A Letter [poem, 16 February 1918]

[Editor: A poem published in Aussie: The Australian Soldiers’ Magazine, no. 2, 16 February 1918.]

A Letter.

Somewhere in France, dear Mother —
Somewhere I cannot tell —
We are stoushing the Hun who we’re had on the run
And making for home like Hell.

There are eager, big boys from Aussie
Doing their bit right here.
We are strong and fit, advanced a bit,
And hope to be back next year.

Of course, there’s a chance that we mightn’t,
Though to be, it would be grand,
So in case there’s to be more fighting
Send us others to give us a hand.

For dear old Aussie we’re pining,
The freest and best place on earth,
The land where the sun’s always shining —
The land that gave us our birth.

Tell the lads who are slacking
The duty they should fulfil,
That we could do with some backing
To wipe off the earth Kaiser Bill.

Pte. S. F. Flenley.

Source:
Aussie: The Australian Soldiers’ Magazine, no. 2, 16 February 1918, page 8

Editor’s notes:
Hun = Germans (“Hun” could be used in a singular sense to refer to an individual German, as well as in a collective sense to refer to the German military or to Germans in general) (similar to the usage of “Fritz”)

stoush = fight