Isolated incidents like these show the temper of the men, their desire to be in the midst of the fighting, the devotion and enthusiasm of soldiers who have crossed miles of sea to do their bit in the great war which has tortured Europe for so many years. Of her record in the war Australia may well be proud.
The Khaki Lads
Along the road in the evening the brown battalions wind,
With the trenches' threat of death in front, the peaceful homes behind;
And luck is with them or luck is not, as the tickets of Fate are drawn—
The boys go up to the trench at dusk, but who will come back at dawn?
The winds come soft of an evening o'er the fields of golden grain,
And good sharp scythes will cut the corn ere we come back again—
The village girls will tend the grain and mill the Autumn yield,