A Poem for a Soldier

Further to my earlier post about Harry Honnor, I have received a few emails. Included was the photo below of Harry Honnor at Nui Dat, two days before The Battle of Long Tan.

Harry Honnor at Nui Dat, Vietnam - Supplied

Harry Honnor at Nui Dat, Vietnam – Supplied

And this poem written by one of the gunners that served with Brigadier Harry:


I’ve saddled up, and dropped me hooch,

I’m going to take the gap,

my Tour of Duty’s over mates,

and I won’t be coming back.

I’m done with diggin’ shell scrapes,

and laying out barbed wire,

I’m sick of setting Claymore Mines,

and coming under fire.

So, no more Fire Support Base,

and no more foot patrols,

and no more eating ration packs,

and sleepin’ in muddy holes.

I’ve fired my last machine gun,

and ambushed my last track,

I’m sick of all the Army brass,

and I sure ain’t coming back.

I’ll hand my bayonet to the clerk,

he ain’t seen one before,

and clean my rifle one more time,

and return it to the store.

So, no more spit and polish,

and make sure I get paid,

and sign me from the Regiment,

today’s my last parade.

Mike Subritzky, previously RNZA


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  • BJ

    Harry – most aptly named Honnor and a true hero farewelled by those who’s lives were made richer for knowing him.

    No need for pomp and royal treatment with ‘Sir’ and ‘orchards’ on coffins. He may not have entertained, humoured, cajoled, shocked and insulted to be noticed – but he’s famous today. Thanks for posting WO