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Judy's October Post

10/5/2014

3 Comments

 
Closer to home

Night watch ... dead quiet ... big skies
but they’re not my friendly skies.
I always thought the sky would be the same,
you’d have the same old mates blinking down
and the moon riding high across his great paddock
or doing his rounds of the night camp,
just poking around, small,
not disturbing anything.

Night noises in the desert
remind me somehow of the sounds of home –
the old mopoke down by the dam,
the poddy tied up behind the shed
wanting his breakfast.
The other day a wagtail started up
long before dawn ...
The other day?
God, it must be nearly a year
since I heard that wagtail.
Wish I could hear the little blighter now.

I’d like see those big open skies again
reaching clear out to the horizon,
just one more time.
Watch the storms come up from the west,
real storms not dust storms,
and in the still of night
know I was home.

..................................

Rain ... and more rain ... send her down huey!
But just not here in this godforsaken bog.
If I never see another leech it’ll be too soon.

It never stops, the rain,
and the mud never goes away.
You spend your days wishing it would,
hoping there’s a quiet space somewhere
before the drip drip drip gets into your head
and the suck and pull of the mud beneath your boots
sends you crazy mad with jungle fever.

Can’t see the stars
but it’s good to know they’re up there
every night, the cross and the milky way,
a little reminder that you’re still alive,
telling you you’re nearly home mate.

Thinking about home, I get to hearing
kids laughing, dogs barking, the quiet bush at night,
even rain belting down on a corrugated roof.
But this is the jungle, not the bush,
and this rain is not the healing rain of home.

It can be quiet here though, sometimes too quiet.
You strain your ears thinking you hear something,
something you shouldn’t have,
something you’d rather not ...
by then it’s usually too late.

Nearly home?
I was closer to home in the desert.


© Judy Bandidt
September, 2014


[A 2nd AIF soldier, posted first to Tobruk and El Alamein, then transferred to fight the Japanese in the jungles of Borneo and Bougainville, wrote in his diary, 'I was closer to home in the desert.' His words, homesick beyond description, full of yearning for the simple sights and sounds, even the silence, of life back on the farm, inspired me to write this poem.]
3 Comments
Lyn
10/7/2014 01:37:38 am

This poem conveys so well the expanse of the skies, wherever the soldier is serving, and the traditional soldier’s moans really do bring out his yearning for home. This soldier seems authentic, and rather endearing.

‘paddock’ links him with Australia straight away, before we get to mopoke and dam and blighter. I love the sights and sounds of Australia given to us in a soldier’s own words, and that wagtail gives scale, as well as sound, even though it is imagined. That final stanza of the ‘desert’ section is heartbreaking.

I say ‘section’ because I wonder if this poem should have (I) and (II), when the squaddie’s complaints move to Borneo and Bougainville? You might even make this poem into two separate poems?

In section 2, I love the squaddie’s grouses, ‘if I never see another leech’ and ‘drip drip drip’ – I am there with him as he lists his complaints. His imagining ‘the cross’ of course links him with his home country. ‘Rain belting down on a corrugated roof’ – ah, the authentic sound of Australia!

A lovely poem. Next volume of war poetry on its way?

Reply
Brad
10/8/2014 05:17:59 pm

A powerful poem Judy. I like the way you locate our protagonist in his two arenas of war without any blatant signposts and convey the awful godforsaken sense of hopelessness, abandonment and isolation, even in the company of others … and of course, he is only one part of many, suffering those same deprivations, so far from home. Well done.

Reply
Dee
10/14/2014 09:31:45 pm

This poem really moved me. You have brought this soldier to life and we can feel his feelings in these strange, unfriendly lands. His speech and mention of things so Australian tell us of his background and his loves. At first the mention of the çross' felt at odds with the first section, until I realised the transition of battle areas, then it fell into place. I can understand how you were inspired to write this. Well done.

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