George Mansford

DIG IN

Often when soldiers climbed a god forsaken hill
Soaking with summer sweat or shivering with winter chill
Even before the heavy loads were off their backs
The sergeant would yell “dig in, no time to be slack”

First it was just a shell scrape to provide some cover
Then it would be dug deeper by two military brothers
The walls and floor took shape with much toil
Then came a roof of logs, sandbags and more soil

They cut niches in the earthen walls for handy little things
Like spare ammo and grenades the boss made them bring
Camouflaged so the home could not be seen
So well hidden behind twigs and hessian screen

That cramped hole was kitchen, dining and bedroom complete
A toilet far away on a reverse slope with wooden seat
The good news was no rates, power bills or rent
Thus on R&R more money on women and grog to be spent

Then when the Diggers finally finished their home
The cry was “pack up and get ready to roam”
Once more they would march by day and night
Until again would come an order to dig in to fight

They were the days of soldiering on so many unnamed hills
Where now no one now lives and perhaps never will
Once a home of stale air and smothering darkness underground
Waiting, sharing, enduring; wishing to be homeward bound

Today most old soldiers enjoy the pleasures of civilian life
A quiet peaceful home, a comfortable bed and a devoted wife
Instant lights, hot and cold water and secure from strife
And no bloody Sergeant bellowing “dig in by last light”