It was a time of revolution, with monarchs on their knees
Freedom and the rights of man, were carried on the breeze
But all the hopes and dreams, were just too good to last
When they found their new masters, were no better than the past

After four years in the trenches, you’d think they’d seen enough
But many volunteered again, they were made of sterner stuff
They went to fight in Russia, too little and too late
For the country was in turmoil and they faced a mortal fate

It said one soon regrets, decisions made in haste
A foreign allied army, in a frozen waste
No one clearly understood, what they were fighting for
Churchill’s Forgotten Folly, in a forgotten fruitless war

The soldiers days were numbered, of that there‘s little doubt
So they raised the North Russia Relief Force, to try and get them out
They had their reputation, their bravery knew no peer
Still, they asked that age old question. “What are we doing here?”

They were soon to realise and it really hurt their pride
That just only months ago, they fought on the same side
Still on a deadly battle field, where honour was the key
Sergeant Pearce and Corporal Sullivan, were awarded the VC

I’m not here to justify, who was right or wrong
Every shade of politician, seems to sing the same old song
Two crosses inscribed “For Valour”, won in the stinking sludge
The moral of their noble deeds, only history will judge

Tomas ‘Paddy’ Hamilton
16July 2018


FILE PHOTO: Australian Fusiliers of the 45th Battalion in Russia, 1919. Photo AWM 04700





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Posted by Brian Hartigan

Managing Editor Contact Publishing Pty Ltd PO Box 3091 Minnamurra NSW 2533 AUSTRALIA

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