Will You Go?

Will You Go?

By Trooper Victor Peacock

In the shadow of the ridges, there’s a hush upon the land,
And the crackling of the riffle now is still;
But some lonely little crosses on the lonely mounds of sand,
Remind us of the gaps we have to fill.

Can’t you see them round their campfires,
When the moon is on the wane;
And the breeze comes through the olives whisp’ringly,
Can’t you hear them calling “Brothers, have we perished here in vain?”

As they gaze with wistful eyes across the sea,
They are calling you from Courtney’s where the thorny bushes grow,
To the tideless sea that’s lapping at the shore;
And from Pope’s and Quinn’s and Walker’s, they are pleading: “Will you go,
For the honour of the boys that went before?”

Can’t you hear them from the valleys? Can’t you hear them from the hills?
From Suvla Bay and rugged Sari Bair?
Won’t you strike a blow for freedom, tho’ the shrieking shrapnel kills
For the glory of the Anzacs sleeping there?

There’s the sound of moving squadrons, there’s the ring of trumpet call,
There’s the sound of marching troops both night and day;
Will you answer, “We are coming,” for the honour of us all,
And the graves across the ocean, far away.

Source: Australian Great War Poetry

Victor Peacock

Trooper Victor Peacock, a medic, survived the war, but he had clearly seen his fair share of the hell that was World War One. Read more…

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