Part of the price of peace.
Corpl. Comus, 2nd Bat., A.I.F.
KILLED IN ACTION
Where the ranges throw their shadows long before the day’s surrender,
Down a valley where a river used to tumble to the sea,
On a rising patch of level rest the men who dared to tender
Life and all its sweetness for their love o’ liberty.
In a thousand miles of ugly scrubby waste and desolation,
Just that little space of level showing open to the sea;
Nothing there to lend it grandeur (sure, it needs no decoration)