THE MARCHERS

[Vic Jefferies]

Had this one on the old site but thought it may be time to re-post it.

THE MARCHERS.

Each April I join my mates and we march along the street,
to the skirl of the pipes and tattoo of the drummer's beat,
but last year I couldn't make it; my health wouldn't let me go,
so I joined the throngs of people standing row on row,
but when I saw my old mob coming, marching eight abreast,
I regretted I wasn’t with them, although I'd tried my best.

It was then a boy beside me whispered to his dad,
"Daddy, why are these men marching? I thought that war was bad.
You have always taught me that war is a terrible crime,
but some of these men are smiling - like they're having a happy time.
How can they be so happy Dad, after all the things they did,
killing all those people, even the women and the kids?"

I felt my face turn ashen, but I stood and held my tongue,
waiting for the answer now so often given by the young,
for there are few who care for soldiers once the danger's past -
their service and their sacrifice - forgotten all too fast.
The boy's father stood and paused and thought for quite a while,
then the answer that he gave his son, gave me cause to smile.

He said, "Son, what I have taught you I believe to be true,
so for me to explain this now is really hard to do.
I think they could be smiling Son, to see their mates again,
or perhaps they might be smiling to hide from us their pain.
They could be smiling, because when they see young boys like you,
it reaffirms in their hearts why they did what they had to do.

As for them looking happy, well perhaps that's just a sign
they are glad they are not marching once again in battle line
and when this day is ended they'll be going home again
instead of marching off to war with all its death and pain.
Perhaps that's why they're smiling Son, I really do not know,
I was too young to go to war and I'm grateful it was so.”

It was then for just a moment I caught the father's eye
(and I hope he understood; 'twas the sunshine made me cry!)
I thought of the debt I owed him, I owe it still today,
though somehow I realized there was nothing more to say,
for the father's explanation had made it very plain:
sometimes the brightest, broadest smiles - disguise the deepest pain.

Vic Jefferies.

[manfredvijars]

Great sentiments Vic ... and there's still some who don't march ...
Great piece ...

[Maureen K Clifford]

Thank you Vic for sharing that - it is beautiful and I reckon the story that Dad told the little bloke just might be right.

Love that last line Vic - real punchy

Cheers

Maureen

[Heather]

Lovely sentiments Vic and I love the last line too.

Heather

[Bob Pacey]

Good one Vic. I will not be able to make the march this year but I will still take my flag up to the point in the morning and be thankful for what they gave us .


Bob

[Heather]

Do you always have your tankful so early in the morning Bobbit?

[Bob Pacey]

It is a bit like those who go to church Heather.We all remember in our own way.


thank you Moderator


Robert

[Vic Jefferies]

Thank you everyone for your kind comments on the poem.
Manfred there will always be some who don't march, but we don't hold that against them. I didn't march for twenty years after I came home. Still not sure why I do. That's not quite right. I never attended an Anzac Day March until 1987 when they gave us all a Welcome Home Parade and I was so blown away by the Second World War veterans who came out and acted as marshals during the parade and showed by their actions their ready acceptance of us I was absolutely humbled.
From a general point of view it is a dreadfully complicated problem because war and the many individual experiences in such a multi-faceted event is incomprehensible to almost everyone.

[Heather]

My daughter will be marching with the local Scouts. We have a big turnout in Broadford for the Anzac Day march. My grandfather served in the Navy, the other in the Army and my father in the Army Reserves CMF.

Heather

[Vic Jefferies]

Good on you Heather.
I participated in the Anzac Day March in Sydney yesterday and it was amazing to see how many people turned out to watch. They stood for hours in the intermittent rain and even though my mob were, as usual, towards the end of the procession they stayed! (Just remembering as I write that when I was kid growing up in Sydney it was called "The Procession" by a great many people. Wonder if anyone else remembers that?)
I traveled home on the train with an old bloke who had been everywhere and done most everything. His medals told me (so did he) that he had served in New Guinea during world war 2, then to Japan as part of the occupying force, onto Korea during the Korean War and then saw action in Malaya during the Emergency. A remarkable old fellow who said he was eighty five and that yesterday would be his last Anzac Day in Sydney as there were only four of his old mates left and he doubted that they would see next Anzac Day.
Unfortunately his is a common story and many of the battalions and units from the second world war now are represented only by their banners being carried by very young volunteers.
Very sad to see but when one remembers that it is sixty six years since the end of that war there are obviously fewer and fewer left.

Vic Jefferies