FACES IN THE MIST

I stand here this time each year, in the soft grey light of dawn
To pay a silent tribute, to the legend that was born
Abandoned on war’s millstone, you lay a tragic grist
When you went to join the legions, of the faces in the mist

You thought yourself immortal, to the perils that you faced
But death is a close ally, of decisions made in haste
For life is full of chances, to be seized or to be missed
That pays the fatal reaper, of the faces in the mist

Yours was not the honour, of country king or queen
A rally to the colours, the greatest ever seen
You cared not for the danger, as you rushed off to enlist
A passport to eternity, for the faces in the mist

All the propaganda, that made a mighty fuss
You put it all so simply, it was them or it was us
Freedom’s cries were pleading and you knew you must assist
The valiant and righteous ones, of the faces in the mist

You did not bask in glory, marching home from war
So many lives to rebuild, like those who’d gone before
But old age and illness, has snared you from our midst
Now I see you ghostly forms, with the faces in the mist

When life’s final drum roll, summons me from this earth
I hope that heaven’s stewards, will grant me a safe berth
For there’s one thought that haunts me, from the doubts that still exist
Will my descendants see me, amongst the faces in the mist

 

Br Tomas ‘Paddy’ Hamilton

 

FILE IMAGE: Australian infantry on. a jungle track, March 1945. Modified from original AWM 018301

 

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