Hi all , I've been asked to build a horse sculpture to commemorate the 100 year anniversary of 120,000 Australian horses that went overseas to assist our efforts in World War One,............................only one returned
After doing a bit of research I was inspired to write this poem /song.
I think it would make a fine country & western Ballad .
(Have a tissue on hand: it does pull the heart strings a little bit)
Tell me what you think. Any changes needed.?
Brave, loyal, brown horses, you carried our forces
In that place, long ago, far away?
In a war that was crazy, now memories hazy
It’s Your story that needs tellin' ’ today
From the Gulf where it’s steamy, and snowy ranges,.....all dreamy
Those Wild Blooded Horses called “Walers”
Sent to hot , desert Sands, in strange foreign lands
But We knew that they’d never fail us.
They could go for days, with so little praise;
And all without food , nor water.
There was no finer, a steed that could meet our War need
And deliver our sons from the slaughter
When their war it was over you’d think they’d get clover;
But instead ............................ Betrayal and more.
For The Order it came, that “All Horse Shall Remain”;
(Only one would return to our shore.)
This shock revelation caused much devastation
So many sad wounded hearts, with no cure.
Would the horses be beaten, starved, burdened or eaten;
Such thoughts, too much to endure
All horses gone lame, Too old or in pain
Were tethered together as one
Now the Vets had attested ..... three thousand were, ‘rested’
As “Rule .303” was done
In them War Books, I’m told, that .... the rest,.......... . They got sold;
But there ‘s another whispered tale , I’ll defend.
As an act of great kindness (Though some would say blindness)
A rifle’s farewell kiss,........ From a friend.
For the ANZACs and descendants, our new diggers (and dependants);
Think kindly, of all that’s been given
Even a century of time, has not eroded a crime
That is, ( and remains ) unforgiven
So If you’re travellin’ the high ranges and you feel a new ‘strangeness’
And see a ghostly mare, walkin’ slow
Can you hear that soft laughter ? , she’s found her old master
Now together, at peace they go
So remember them horses, that carried our forces
And a song that helps to remind
You can tell all them **** “pollies”, (politicians) we’re done with their follies
And we don’t leave our friends behind.
Andrew Whitehead Sculptures