Digger Smith Part 6

I know that since 'e came back 'ere 'E 'asn't seen that girl for fear She'd turn 'im down--give 'im the bird, An' 'and 'im out the frozen word, Because 'e's left a leg in France; An' 'e's afraid to take a chance.

Well, not afraid, per'aps, but--shook.

It's jist the form 'is nerves 'ave took.

Now 'e's been watchin' Flo an' seen 'Er style, an' 'ow she's always keen For news uv Jim. Then 'e starts out To 'ope, an' 'esitate, an' doubt.

'E wonders if 'is own girl spoke Jist this same way about 'er bloke.

'E wonders if in 'is girl's eyes That same look came; an' then 'e sighs, An' dulls 'is senses with the dope That 'arf a man ain't got no 'ope.

'E makes me tired. But, all the same, I tries to work a little game.

"Look 'ere," I sez. "About this Flo.

Jim mightn't come back 'ome, yeh know.

You 'ave a fly; yeh're sure to score; Besides, all's fair in love an' war."

"Sling that!" 'e sez; but I goes on "Ole Jim won't blame yeh when she's gone.

'E knows, the same as me an' you, These silly tarts, they can't keep true."

I piles it on until I've got 'Im where I want 'im--jumpin' 'ot.

An' then 'e sez, "'Ere, sling that talk!

I might be groggy in me walk; But if yeh say them things to me I'm man enough to crack yeh; see?"

"Righto," sez I. "That was me plan.

Now wot about this 'arf a man?"

'E stares at me, an' then sez, slow, "Wot is yer game? Wot do yeh know?"

"Nothin'," I tells 'im, "only this When there's a waitin' tart to kiss Yeh're only 'arf a man; but when There's blokes to fight, yeh're twenty men."

"Wot tart?" 'e asks. "Yeh mean this Flo?"

"P'r'aps not," I sez. "You ought to know."

I waits to let me words sink in.

An' then--'e beats me with that grin.

"Match-makin', Bill?" 'e laughs. "Oh, 'Ell!

You take up knittin' for a spell."

IX. THE BOYS OUT THERE

The Boys Out There

"WHY do they do it? I dunno,"

Sez Digger Smith. "Yeh got me beat.

Some uv the yarns yeh 'ear is true, An' some is rather umptydoo, An' some is--indiscreet.

But them that don't get to the crowd, Them is the ones would make yeh proud."

With Digger Smith an' other blokes 'Oo 'ave returned it's much the same They'll talk uv wot they've seen an' done When they've been out to 'ave their fun; But no word uv the game.

On fights an' all the tale uv blood Their talk, as they remark, is dud.

It's so with soldiers, I 'ave 'eard, All times. The things that they 'ave done, War-mad, with blood before their eyes, An' in their ears wild fightin' cries, They ever after shun.

P'r'aps they forget; or find it well Not to recall too much uv 'Ell.

An' when they won't loose up their talk It's 'ard for us to understand 'Ow all those boys we used to know, Ole Billo, Jim an' Tom an' Joe, Done things to beat the band.

We knoo they'd fight; but they've became 'Ead ringers at the fightin' game.

Well, wot I've 'eard from Digger Smith An' other soldier blokes like 'im I've put together bit by bit, An' chewed a long time over it; An' now I've got a dim An' 'azy notion in me 'ead Why they is battlers, born an' bred.

Wot did they know uv war first off, When they joined up? Wot did I know When I was tossed out on me neck As if I was a shattered wreck The time I tried to go?

Flat feet! Me feet 'as len'th an' brea'th Enough to kick a 'Un to death!

They don't know nothin', bein' reared Out 'ere where war 'as never spread-- "A land by bloodless conquest won,"

As some son uv a writin' gun Sez in a book I read They don't know nix but wot they're told At school; an' that sticks till they're old.

Yeh've got to take the kid at school, Gettin' 'is 'ist'ry lesson learned-- Then tales uv Nelson an' uv Drake, Uv Wellin'ton an' Fightin' Blake.

'Is little 'eart 'as burned To get right out an' 'ave a go, An' sock it into some base foe.

Nothin' but glory fills 'is mind; The British charge is somethin' grand; The soldier that 'e reads about Don't 'ave no time for fear an' doubt; 'E's the 'eroic brand.

So, when that boy gets in the game, 'E jist wades in an' does the same.

Not bein' old 'ands at the stunt, They simply does as they are told; But, bein' Aussies--Spare me days!-- They never thinks uv other ways, But does it brave an' bold.

That's 'arf; an' for the other part Yeh got to go back to the start.

Yeh've got to go right back to Dad, To Gran'dad and the pioneers, 'Oo packed up all their bag uv tricks An' come out 'ere in fifty-six, An' battled thro' the years; Our Gran'dads; _and their women, too_, That 'ad the grit to face the new.

It's that old stock; an', more than that, It's Bill an' Jim an' ev'ry son Gettin' three good meat meals a day An' 'eaps uv chance to go an' play Out in the bonzer sun.

It's partly that; but, don't forget, When it's all said, there's somethin' yet.

There's somethin' yet; an' there I'm beat.

Crowds uv these lads I've known, but then, They 'ave got somethin' from this war, Somethin' they never 'ad before, That makes 'en better men.

Better? There's no word I can get To name it right. There's somethin' yet.

We 'ear a lot about reward; We praise, an' sling the cheers about; But there was debts we can't repay Piled up on us one single day-- When that first list come out.

There ain't no way to pay that debt.

Do wot we can--there's somethin' yet.

X. HALF A MAN

Half a Man

"I WASH me 'ands uv 'im," I tells 'em, straight.

"You women can do wot yeh dash well like.

I leave this 'arf a man to 'is own fate; I've done me bit, an' now I'm gone on strike.

Do wot yeh please; but don't arsk 'elp from me; 'E's give me nerves; so now I'll let 'im be."

Doreen an' ole Mar Flood 'as got a scheme.