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THE crews were always ready
And constantly on call
To come out and do a pick up
From where the enemy had let our blokes fall

SOMETIMES they came with Gunships
With their weapons at the ready
To keep the enemy's heads down
While they held their choppers steady

THEY would come into the LZ
Whether it was hot or cold
To pick up they're human cargoes
They were really very bold

AND once the blokes were loaded
Both the wounded and the dead
They would fly them back to "Vungers"
To the Morgue or to a bed

IT was really quite a miracle
To hear the thumping sound
Of the friendly "Dustoff" chopper
When you're lying on the ground

IT was like a door would open
To allow you to be whisked away
From the constant heat of battle
Hopefully to fight again another day

THEY were the unsung Heroes
Of this our Jungle War
And without their undying courage
We surely would have lost more

SO to our brave young Heroes
I'd like to put all things aside
Then remember my own "Dustoff"
And say thank you for the ride

Copyright 2001 Phil Kadow.



EVERY one hates a Soldier
Until the enemy is at the gate
Then the feelings change
To ones of PRIDE not hate
BUT when the conflict is over
And the enemy is no longer a threat
The feeling of the Nation turns
From relief to regret
THE loss of life is horrific
At the hands of either side
It's no wonder so many people
Just sat down and cried
BUT the Soldiers must come home again
To return to their respective States
And that's where the countries love
Turns again to hate
FOR they will be cursed for the loss
Of many innocent civilian victims
And be kicked and punched and set upon
For only answering the call

THAT call came from the Government
Which is voted in by the people
And these people we know
Are not the soldiers equal
SO if you have a problem
With our Soldiers in some far off distant land
Shout and curse your Government
But shake a Soldiers hand
IF it were not for the people
Who work to keep us safe
Another enemy will come along
And start rattling the garden gate
SO remember well your FREEDOM
That you take so much for granted
And say thank you to those people
Who at all times stand PROUD and TALL
FOR they form a line in front of you
To protect you one and all
Then stay there with out question
As if they were a wall
That runs around your country
To keep you safe and warm
So that no one on the inside
Will come to any harm

Copyright     2003.  Phil 'Fearless' Kadow.


My Best Friend
MY weapon was my best friend
My weapon was my gun
It was meant for giving protection
Not meant for having fun
I would clean it every morning
And then again at night
So that when I had to use it
I knew it would work just right
"BIG BERTHA" was her nickname
Killing was her game
And leaving her behind
It really was a shame
SHE really was a beauty
All black and big and bold
But when it came to firing
She was anything but cold
SHE was capable of shooting down aircraft
But she was never used for that
She was used against human targets
And the bunkers where they were at
FOR that she did a good job
When ever we were around
And it made our lads feel safer
While they were being pinned down on the ground
THE enemy had weapons
Of a very similar size
And were only too willing to use them
To take many of our lads lives
So when we had the chance
We would always pay them back
For when it's kill or be killed
That's really where it's at
BUT when you are in a War Zone
You gun becomes your best friend
So that's why you take good care of it
So as to make it through to the end
Copyright 2002 Phil Kadow.


PTSD and Me.
I don't understand the feelings
That are happening to me
Is it that I'm abnormal?
Or is it PTSD
I want to be a loner
I want to yell and scream
I make mountains out of molehills
All is not what it seems
My tolerance is very low
Incompetence I cannot stand
If mistakes are made of any kind
Retribution I demand
At times I feel like crying
Or just lashing out
I can't control the feelings
That are languishing about
I know I won't be cured
After all these many years
But there's a light at the end of the journey
Shining bright through the tears.
Copyright 2001 Phil Kadow.



Thank you Australia
Thank you one and all
For all the support you gave us
When our backs were against the wall

We gave our lives and spirits
To protect you for years to come
We answered the call of our country
But you treated us like scum

You called us 'baby killers'
Murderers and the likes
And while your sons and daughters
were trying to survive
The 'BLOODY MONGREL' wharfies
called a couple of strikes

We came home after our Tour
Under cover of the night
To be whisked away in secret
So as not to cause any strife

When we stepped out in the daylight
With our Medals so shiny bright
You cursed and spat and treated us
Like a wound that oozes pus

It was your way of protesting
Against the 'War Machine'
But you used us as the scapegoats
And for that you will always be seen

As a country that was too ashamed
To stick up for what was right
Then left the under dogs stranded
With no future joy in sight

They were in the hands of the aggressors
And were treated with disdain
For only wanting their freedom
They were left to deal with the pain

You blamed the Government of the day
for sending our young to fight
But they went with pride to do their best
as others had done before
And came back home to the ones they loved
Just to fight another WAR

For those of us that did come home
We remember those with pride
Who gave their all for their mates
And for their country died

But as always for the living
The war will never end
As the memory in the mind
Has been etched with an indelible pen.

Copyright 2001 Phil Kadow.


Switched On.

When we were training with our unit
It was about the middle of the Vietnam War
We learnt new techniques every day
That we put in our heads to store
We did exercises after exercises
That were mostly in the bush
But they always seemed to finish
With everyone in a rush
There was always some one saying
Things like 'Hurry up and wait or get your Great Coats on'
But there's the one that was to linger
And that was to stay 'Switched On'
I expect that all of those sayings
Have been said one way or another
To all 'Diggers' from years gone past
And like them we had to learn it fast
In 'Conventional' warfare they had a net
To catch them as they'd fall
In the form of 'mateship' and old friends
Who had also answered the call
There were breaks between the battles
And troop movements to the rear
Which gave them time to simmer down
And talk about their fear
But the jungle is a different place
With no line front or rear
Just ever increasing tension
And hardly time to shed a tear
When the 'Great' war was over
Or they were returning from their tour
They had the time with their mates
To share what they all had to endure
But we would be out bush one day
Being reminded to remain 'switched on'
Then be on a Qantas flight the next
Flying cautiously out of Saigon
As yet, I haven't found the fuse box
Which controls the bloody switch
That keeps me jumpy and on edge
And occasionally increases the itch
To pack my bags and piss off
Some where to be on my own
So I can pull out the fuse
And no longer be alone.

Copyright 2001 Phil Kadow