Tweet
Text of a letter from a kid from Eromanga to Mum and Dad. (For Those of
you not in the know, Eromanga is a small town, west of Quilpie in the
far south west of Queensland Australia)
Dear Mum & Dad,
I am well. Hope youse are too. Tell me big brothers Doug and Phil that
the Army is better than workin' on the farm - tell them to get in bl00dy
quick smart before the jobs are all gone! I wuz a bit slow in settling
down at first, because ya don't hafta get outta bed until 6am. But I
like sleeping in now, cuz all yagotta do before brekky is make ya bed
and shine ya boots and clean ya uniform. No bl00dy cows to milk, no
calves to feed, no feed to stack - nothin'!! Ya haz gotta shave though,
but its not so bad, coz there's lotsa hot water and even a light to see
what ya doing!
At brekky ya get cereal, fruit and eggs but there's no kangaroo steaks
or possum stew like wot Mum makes. You don't get fed again until noon
and by that time all the city boys are knackered because we've been on a
'route march' - geez its only just like walking to the windmill in the
back paddock!!
This one will kill me brothers Doug and Phil with laughter. I keep
getting medals for shootin' - dunno why. The bullseye is as big as a
bl00dy possum's bum and it don't move and it's not firing back at ya
like the Johnsons did when our big scrubber bull got into their prize
cows before the Ekka last year! All ya gotta do is make yourself
comfortable and hit the target - it's a piece of P155!! You don't even
load your own cartridges they comes in little boxes and ya don't have to
steady yourself against the rollbar of the roo shooting truck when you
reload!
Sometimes ya gotta wrestle with the city boys and I gotta be real
careful coz they break easy - it's not like fighting with Doug and Phil
and Jack and Boori and Steve and Muzza all at once like we do at home
after the muster.
Turns out I'm not a bad boxer either and it looks like I'm the best the
platoon's got, and I've only been beaten by this one bloke from the
Engineers - he's 6 foot 5 and 15 stone and three pick handles across the
shoulders and as ya know I'm only 5 foot 7 and eight stone wringin'
wet,but I fought him till the other blokes carried me off to the boozer.
I can't complain about the Army - tell the boys to get in quick before
word gets around how bl00dy good it is.
Your loving daughter,
Sheila
you not in the know, Eromanga is a small town, west of Quilpie in the
far south west of Queensland Australia)
Dear Mum & Dad,
I am well. Hope youse are too. Tell me big brothers Doug and Phil that
the Army is better than workin' on the farm - tell them to get in bl00dy
quick smart before the jobs are all gone! I wuz a bit slow in settling
down at first, because ya don't hafta get outta bed until 6am. But I
like sleeping in now, cuz all yagotta do before brekky is make ya bed
and shine ya boots and clean ya uniform. No bl00dy cows to milk, no
calves to feed, no feed to stack - nothin'!! Ya haz gotta shave though,
but its not so bad, coz there's lotsa hot water and even a light to see
what ya doing!
At brekky ya get cereal, fruit and eggs but there's no kangaroo steaks
or possum stew like wot Mum makes. You don't get fed again until noon
and by that time all the city boys are knackered because we've been on a
'route march' - geez its only just like walking to the windmill in the
back paddock!!
This one will kill me brothers Doug and Phil with laughter. I keep
getting medals for shootin' - dunno why. The bullseye is as big as a
bl00dy possum's bum and it don't move and it's not firing back at ya
like the Johnsons did when our big scrubber bull got into their prize
cows before the Ekka last year! All ya gotta do is make yourself
comfortable and hit the target - it's a piece of P155!! You don't even
load your own cartridges they comes in little boxes and ya don't have to
steady yourself against the rollbar of the roo shooting truck when you
reload!
Sometimes ya gotta wrestle with the city boys and I gotta be real
careful coz they break easy - it's not like fighting with Doug and Phil
and Jack and Boori and Steve and Muzza all at once like we do at home
after the muster.
Turns out I'm not a bad boxer either and it looks like I'm the best the
platoon's got, and I've only been beaten by this one bloke from the
Engineers - he's 6 foot 5 and 15 stone and three pick handles across the
shoulders and as ya know I'm only 5 foot 7 and eight stone wringin'
wet,but I fought him till the other blokes carried me off to the boozer.
I can't complain about the Army - tell the boys to get in quick before
word gets around how bl00dy good it is.
Your loving daughter,
Sheila
Comment