And can you tell me, doctor, why I still can't get to sleep?
...And night-time's just a jungle dark and a barking M16? And what's this rash that comes and goes, can you tell me what it means? God help me, I was only ninteen.
A four week operation when each step could mean your last one on two legs, It was a war within yourself. But you wouldn't let your mates down til they had you dusted off. So you closed your eyes and thought about something else.
Then someone yelled "Contact!" and the bloke behind me swore, we hooked in there for hours, then a Godalmighty roar, Frankie kicked a mine the day that mankind kicked the moon, God help me, he was going home in June.
I can still see Frankie, drinking tinnies in the Grand Hotel, on a thirty-six hour rec leave in Vung Tau. And I can still hear Frankie, lying screaming in the jungle, Til the morphine came and killed the bloody row.
And the Anzac legends didn't mention mud and blood and tears. And the stories that my father told me never seemed quite real. I caught some pieces in my back that I didn't even feel. God help me, I was only nineteen.
And can you tell me, doctor, why I still can't get to sleep? And why the Channel Seven chopper chills me to my feet? And what's this rash that comes and goes, can you tell me what it means? God help me, I was only nineteen.
vincent