The Kia ora coo-ee : the magazine for the ANZACS in the Middle East, 1918
We enjoy the atmosphere in the country of Judaea,
When the heavy batt'ries thunder with their muzzles to the sky;
And we're often glad to see extra grim activity,
When the life-denying rifle-lead is ripping low and high.
But when big persistent flies hover round our aching eyes,
In the bivouac that's hotter than the centre of the sun,
How we dread the distant humming of the "Gotha" when it's coming,
And the inconsistent shelling of the anti-aircraft gun.
Man is meant to forge along with a purpose bold and strong,
Though his goal be almost hidden in a haze of anxious doubt.
So, believing in the right, we are all prepared to fight
Until every living obstacle is down and counted out.
But it's very sad to know that you might receive a blow
In a moment of abstraction, when the hardest fighting's done;
For a distant engine's singing where a little "Taube" is winging
Through the high exploding missiles of the anti-aircraft gun.