page 114

Silent Night

Now the glow of the sunset has faded, the shadows of night softly creep
On a world that is tired from its labours and surely is ready to sleep.
So we welcome the hush of the evening and relax in the rest truly earned
With never a care for the morrow—that's one of the lessons we've learned.
But the peace of the night is soon shattered by the croak of unmusical toads
And the whining of gears on the roadway, heavy trucks groaning under their loads
And the rumble of stuttering motors, only source of electrical power
And the whistle of home-coming fighters—so we put off our sleep for an hour
There are night-flying birds in the jungle, harsh cry of the gay parakeet,
And a rattle and hiss in the coral, and the scrape of the crab's armoured feet.
So we toss and we turn on our bedcots, half-awake, half-asleep as we roll
Till we're roused by the roar of the bombers warming up for the early patrol.
We look back on advice of our training, and the lessons when first combat-bound
'Whatever you do in the jungle, keep silent and don't make a sound'!