AND ONLY ONE CAME HOME

[Maureen K Clifford]

And only one came home.



You’ve cropped my mane and tail and I have to wonder why,
and why are your eyes watering? Are they tears I espy?
It’s very quiet this morning with no sound of battle roar
and all the men are happy to be going home once more.
I look around - it’s beautiful. The day is clear and bright
the desert sands stretch endlessly - with dunes to left and right.
I see my mates all standing, resting at the picket line
and realize their tails are cut and now look just like mine.

There’s Toby, Star and Captain and down the end is Jack.
Unusual to see them without saddles on their back.
They’re looking gaunt and thin, but oh, we’ve all given our best
and every one passed muster when you put us to the test.
Those men now taking groups of horses – do they go for water?
A cool drink now would be so good after such bloody slaughter.
We charged straight through that enfilade into the battle roar,
and put our faith in those who rode us – this was bloody war.

And some have not returned for I see spaces on the line.
I guess we were the lucky ones made it through one more time;
but now the war is over and Beersheba has been won
I know how much we both miss home, and green paddocks old son.
What were those shots that just rang out? Did you hear them? So clear.
Over behind that sand dune. Are the enemy still near?
It cannot be for now more horses are heading that way
and Jack and Star are with them – did you hear them neigh G’day?

We are both battle worn Joe – is that why your eyes are teary?
You rest against my shoulder mate, we’re both a little weary.
That brush feels good against my skin, sand is so irritating
but nowhere near as bad Mate as the day’s that we’ll spend waiting.
But hang on there are shots again – what the hell’s going on?
You want to go – investigate? Well I will tag along.
I just might give a little push to help you on your way,
my nose against your shoulder – like we always did in play.

Do you remember summer days spent swimming in the creek?
Boys, horses, clear water – Here we go short every week,
Do you recall the fun we had when we went mustering
racing through the snow gums with our stock whips echoing?
They were good days Joe and we’ve survived despite this hell
again we’ll ride through green valley’s and hear the tinkling bell
of the bellbirds in the forest, drink cool water from the creek.
I might just enjoy the shade beneath the Ironbarks for a week.


Then two mates who’d grown up strong on a rundown Aussie farm
took a final walk together, one quite unaware of harm;
for no thought of treachery would have entered his head
this soldier was his mate, he always followed where he led.
He never saw the tears that from the young bloke’s eyes were falling
and he never saw the paddocks, never heard the bellbirds calling.
Never rested in an Ironbarks shade or drank the cool creek water.
His days ended in a desert, in a mass of equine slaughter.

Was he fearful at the end? Did he realize his fate?
He must have felt betrayal by a country and a mate.
So remember his sacrifice – for he too went to war.
They cropped his mane and tail away, salted his hide and more.
They could not bring the horses’ home though all had done their best.
They could not leave them living there, this was their last bequest
to a mate. To die with honour, on the sands for which they’d fought
Every man there did his duty – every man with guilt was fraught.



Maureen Clifford © 04/12



Footnote - All walers were to be classified A, B, C and D, according to their condition and age. All C and D horses were to be shot.

They were first to have their shoes removed and their manes and tails cut off. Iron and horse hair were saleable.
Worse, the horses were to be skinned after being shot. Seven pounds of salt was allowed for the salting of each hide, to be sold as leather.

Horrible as these orders seemed, many men thought that this would be better than leaving their horses to be cruelly treated. Some tried to have their walers included in the C and D group. Others asked permission to take their horse for a last ride and returned carrying saddle and bridle, with the explanation: "He put his foot in a hole and I had to shoot him".

Hundreds of the walers who had charged Beersheba or endured the Sinai or carried their Billjim on the last great advance, were taken to olive groves outside Tripoli and tethered in picket lines. They were then given a last nosebag of fodder and shot. Without panic. To the last they trusted the familiar uniformed figures. And gunfire held no fear for them."

ps - “Billjim” was a name apparently given to an Australian Light Horseman (some became Cameliers) by Norman Lindsay (1879-1969) in his comic strip of the time – every second male was named either Bill or Jim!

[Maureen K Clifford]

Help needed - I used the word bequest in this but now wonder if behest would be more correct - any thoughts????

[Neville Briggs]

G'day Maureen. I think bequest is the closest to what you seemed to want to say, it means a legacy as far as I understand. Behest is an old fashioned word meaning a command.

Now enfilade is the word that surprised me, I'd never heard that one before.

At least I suppose some use was made from the horses remains. Some of the Australian horses didn't survive the journey from Australia and got chucked over the side of the ship.

[Neville Briggs]

I believe you Marty a horror whichever way you look at it.

Maureen. The one horse that returned was a General's horse. It wasn't a waler it was a thoroughbred. Funny how some things can be done.

[Maureen K Clifford]

His name was Sandy Neville - he came home in November 1918 and was put down in May 1923 only 6 years after he came back to Australia as he had eye problems - probably caused by war service in the desert .

Sandy’s proud head and neck were mounted and became part of the Australian War Memorial’s collection. Recently restored he is currently on display as a feature part of the ‘A is for Animals’ exhibition. A legend among war horses, his hooves were mounted and used as paperweights and inkwells at Duntroon House. His carcass was buried somewhere in the paddock, believed to be not far from the remount headquarters. The now unmarked and unknown exact spot is part of the 127-hectare former explosives depot sold by the Defence Department to become one of Melbourne’s suburbs at Maribyrnong . Local residents I understand want a memorial erected to Sandy on the hillside there - a right and fitting thing to do IMO .

Thanks for the thoughts on the original question - I wasn't sure

Cheers

Maureen

[Vic Jefferies]

Great poem Maureen. I have read (heard)a number of poems written on this subject but yours is far and away the best!
Bequest is correct within that context.

Vic

[Maureen K Clifford]

Thanks Vic on both counts glad you liked it

Cheers

Maureen