Martin “Marty” Boyce

OLD MATE

I met him in the city when our bus was running late
And because I can’t recall his name I’ll just call him Old Mate
old mate he looked dishevelled and his clothes were quite unclean
But I thought he’d have a story of the places he had been

He didn’t have a lot to say, some words about the weather
So we sat there waiting for the bus not saying much together
Until a young lass and her kids went gaily walking by
And beneath his hat I saw a tear well up in Old Mates eye

You see he used to have a wife and three kids of his own
his wife had died some years ago and all the kids had grown
And so it was that he was left to make it by himself
Just like so many old blokes he was left up on the shelf

He met his wife in 46 when he came back from war
he smiled as he told me of the beauty that he saw
She helped him through tough times when his mind would wander back
To those terrifying days he spent up on Kokoda Track

Since she’d gone the darkness brings the nightmares flooding back
Just like the unseen foe he faced each day up on that track
He can still see his mate Johhno as he lay dying in the mud
Can still recall the sights and sounds the screaming and the blood

Old Mate was talking freely now of mateship and of war
But I don’t believe he told me of most of the things he saw
I think he thought that I would not believe him if he told
That I would think of him as just some stupid bum who’s old

He told of the times that they would get their hands upon some beer
And of how if you got coopers you would let out such a cheer
How everyman was hoping to have coopers in his hand
Because you could swap one bottle for two of the other brands

He spoke of blokes who he called mates who long ago had died
Just normal blokes just like Old Mate who helped to turn the tide
Who gave so much and pushed the Japs way back along the Track
Whose folks received a telegram to say they won’t be back

He watched the mother and the kids as they walked passed again
He smiled at the little ones as they waited for their train
He told me that the only thing that takes away the pain
Is to watch the freedom they enjoy, so deaths were not in vain

We parted as the bus arrived, I shook his frail hand
I thanked him for the freedoms we enjoy in this great land
So when you see old mate please don’t dismiss him with a sneer
Go up and say g’day to him or offer him a beer

Author’s Note: I wrote this poem after attending the Crokwell, NSW ANZAC Day service. The RAAF Officer who gave the keynote speech made mention of the fact that we all pat the old blokes on the back on ANZAC day yet often won’t give the time of day the rest of the year. My poem is about meeting an old bloke and striking up a conversation. I trust you enjoy the story.