Whinfield M W Pte 888

The following has been forwarded to us: -

At Sea, Nov., 1916.

We, the undersigned Essendon lads, have much pleasure in sending you the enclosed poem, which was given to us while at Durban. It may be of interest to you to show the people of Essendon that this little State appreciates what Australia is doing for the Empire. We are all well, and wish you all "The Compliments of the Season."

Staff. Sgt. M. W. Whinfield. A.A.V.C., Athol street, Moonee Ponds;

Sgt. C. R. Gill, A.A.V.C., Moonee Ponds; [Reg no 885]

Coy.-Sgt. Major H. J. Mclvor, Ascot Vale;

Sgt. N. H. Wallder, Ascot Vale;

Q.M.S. C. A. Wallder, Ascot Vale;

Cpl. A. H. J. O'Dee, Moonee Pond;

L.-Cpl. H. J. A. Feehan, Moonee Ponds;

Pte. J. H. Ryan, Flemington;

Pte. H. W. Turnley, Moonee Ponds.

The piece of poetry was written when the hotels were closed against the Australian troops.

"AUSTRALIANS."

(Dedicated to some of the "elite" of Durban, after hearing their opinion of the Australians.)

"We are not cotton spinners all; but

Some love England and her honour yet."

We stand on the shore at Durban,

And watch the transports go

To England from Australia.

Hurrying to and fro,

Bearing the men of a nation

Who are heroes to the core,

To stand or fall by the Motherland,

And they're sending thousands more.

We've watched the ships returning,

With the crippled and the maim,

With limbs that trail and falter,

Their's an immortal name.

The deathless name of "Anzac"

That thrills from Pole to Pole,

Of the remnants of the heroes

On the long and glorious roll.

And now in their tens of thousands.

Come the men to fill their ranks,

And what can we do to show them

Our love, our pride, our thanks?

We can't do much-I own it-

But give them a passing cheer,

While the real "elite" beat a shocked retreat.        

Why! They saw one drinking BEER!!!

Oh, God, could we show these misers

The path that the Anzacs went.

Could they rest in their beds at night-time,

Or live in their damned content.

Could they talk with a sneer of Australians  

When one or two got drunk.

I'd rather a drunk Australian,

Than a wealthy Durban funk.  

He's a better man than you are,

You dear tee-total saint.  

You do not drink, you do not fight:,

What wonderful restraint.  

We stand on the shore at Durban.  

For we're all not made like you,  

And the glorious name-of "Anzac"

Thrills us through and through.

But all we can do is to cheer them

And throw them a trifle from shore.

We're not millionaires-like some are,

Or perhaps we'd try to do more.

They are coming in tens of thousands,

And here's to their honour to-day,

Here's to the sister Dominion

That's showing us the way.  

"BY A SOUTH AFRICAN."

The same poem has also been sent by Sgt.-Major J. H. McDougall, son of Mr. and Mrs. John McDougall of Ascot Vale. We have received from Air Mechanic J. C. Outhred, of the Australian Flying Corps (late of Ascot Vale), a copy of the above, which, in his letter, he writes, was composed by a South African girl.

RECOMMENDED FOR MILITARY MEDAL. (1917, March 8). The Essendon Gazette and Keilor, Bulla and Broadmeadows Reporter (Moonee Ponds, Vic. : 1914 - 1918), p. 3 Edition: Morning.. Retrieved May 3, 2012, from http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article74601872