The official changing of the wording on one of our icons in New Guinea from “Mateship” to “Friendship” left me clutching for my tranquilisers..

Clearly this was the work of maniacs intent in destroying much of what we value so dearly from yesterday. Even more infuriating is that those responsible are using public money in no small measure to do it.

Mateship among other qualities forms the base of our Australian spirit, conceived with the arrival of the First Fleet, born and reared in early colonial days and christened in its young  age  with the landing at Gallipoli .

A classic example of the mateship on the Kokoda Track was during the fighting withdrawal of the 39th Battalion. A group of walking wounded was ordered to return to Port Moresby.  Soon there would be showers, clean clothes, hot meals , crisp white sheets and deep restful sleep then home. It seemed that for these diggers, their war was over.

On the journey, they met the advance guard of the units moving to relieve the battered 39th. The word was that the 39th was in deep trouble.  With the exception of three very badly wounded, the casualties turned around and went back to fight once more besides their comrades.  Such conduct is surely much deeper and meaningful than friendship.

In my view, friendship is holding hands while strolling along a well sign-posted path on a sunny day. Mateship is often stumbling into uncertainty where your only strength is being with those you trust.

Revisionists of military campaigns clearly do not understand the fundamentals of human behavior and emotions during dangerous times when there is a common sense of purpose. Nevertheless, surely responsible research would show the difference between mateship and friendship, before leaping into nowhere and distorting history.

         The Power of Mateship

Such fools in air conditioned offices and dens 

Change history with strokes of pens.

Thus after much public money has been spent 

“Friendship, not mateship” was the signal they sent. 

I wonder what the diggers would have thought

Of “Friendship” on a track where they had fought.

Against incredible odds with blood, sweat and tears so long ago

While in OZ, loved ones held their breath as the threat did grow. 

No air conditioning, instant coffee and umbrella in case of rain

These mates in green, soldiered in heat, rain, mud, misery and pain. 

No sick leave on the track; just mateship to help them out 

Deep brotherly love, sharing and caring was what it is all about.

A silent oath to each other when danger loomed and then the fear 

They stayed together, staunch and true even when death was near.

Like the ANZACs, they were true blue mates, not just friends

Mates were brothers and whatever the test, would never bend.

Fancy coffin, polished hearse or many flowers that friends gave

Versus mates in green rags, shrouded by groundsheets in muddy graves.

No splendid wakes, laughter and what a great chap he had been

Just a sip of water, new orders and moving on in the cruel jungle green.

So many battles where back to back, they all stood fast.

Brothers bonded in mateship and ready to fight to the last.

The power of such unions is a signature from ANZAC to this very day.

Our sacred mateship from generations past is not for sale in any way. 

George Mansford © March 2017

Training for War

One of the latest trends emanating from Canberra is how to enhance Political Correctness via the Armed Forces to higher levels. The military obediently stands to attention as the lash is applied and after the salt has been rubbed into the wounds, does its best to repair the damage.

Today there is new warm fuzzy feeling that the problem is Anglo Saxons. It’s claimed they have been the dominating force in our military and at the expense of minority groups. Thus a recent directive is a quota system for all. Clearly the old practice of seeking the best of the best, no matter the origins has been discarded.

One requirement will never change and that is combat readiness is developed with tough demanding and realistic training where mental and physical toughness becomes paramount. Where mateship is conceived on the parade ground and becomes reality in the field. Where they share that last mug of coffee, sleep in the freezing cold and embrace each other for warmth or huddle together draped in a wet sodden blanket in bone piercing icy winds.  Slowly but surely arrives an awareness that they will rely on each other for survival.

Our military history clearly shows that no matter race, colour or religion, they all wore the same uniform and with the same purpose.

There is no need to brainwash or use space age gimmicks to highlight a particular group. The new initiative which emphasises diversity is far from achieving unity and has every chance of fragmenting the team.

Unity, not diversity, is the key to achieve “All for one and one for all”

There is ample evidence to be found, such as Charlie Mene, a Torres Strait Islander decorated for going forward under fire to rescue his white mates.  Sergeant Charlie Anderson, a proud aborigine killed in action and his platoon wept at his loss. History records the much loved Captain Reg Saunders, the first aborigine to be commissioned and when in the thick of a battle, one of his soldiers yelled, “This is no place for a white man” and their leader yelled back “No place for a black fella either”

The critics would on many pages find true blue Aussies such as fair headed Ziggy Imaks, born in Lithuania. Swarthy Tony Parrello born in Trieste, Von Kurtz born in Germany (and at school was part of the Hitler youth) and even a Muslim who never brought his prayer mate. Huddled together, black, brown, brindle and white, they all ate the same food including devout Catholics such as Bluey Doyle who in the field was never offered fish on Fridays. They were all of the same team with the same purpose and would give all for each other. Sadly some of them did.

They were welded together, not by political brain washing but because they had met the tough demands of soldiering together, “all for one and one for all” regardless of religion, race or colour.

No matter who they are or where they come from, tough and realistic training prepares them for war. Given mental and physical toughness combined with a highest standard of battle discipline and sense of purpose, they will endure all. Raw recruits from yesterday who met the challenges of battle discipline become today’s best of the best and not necessarily in equal ratios from each quota, be it black, brown, white, brindle, uni- sex or in between.

Let all recruits be from the same box with the same rules and considerations. After all, they will fight together and risk all together.

George Mansford March 2017

                   Soldiering

All of us together, how many miles did we walk 
Or over a few beers, so much banter and talk
Sharing the dangers of our time
All those dreams, yours and mine 
Didn’t matter what our race or colour 
Simply put, we were brothers
Some were teased for past walkabouts and hunting game
Their answer was finding food for white bastxxds in ball and chain 

When it was all over, we went our different ways 
Then political correctness crawled in on a dark miserable day 
PC ***zealots, frothing at the mouth prowled the social scene
Pointing fingers at old soldiers for racism (which had never been)
I recalled all with whom I served
Such accusations they did not deserve
Black, white, brown and brindle, we were as one 
Long before these PC disciples lives had begun

How dare they decide there is a need to change
To target and distort the past when they are far out of range
History records the deeds of such soldiers throughout the ages
So many scattered among our proud military pages  
Charlie Mene from the Torres Strait risked all to save white mates
Jacky Walsh was always there when needed and never late
Reg Saunders who commanded was respected and loved by all
Sergeant Anderson whose men wept when he did fall  

We bled, starved and thirsted together yet always ready to dare
Read my lips, for we were as one, no matter when or where
Canberra Suits and PC witches should bugxer off and do their sums
To understand that we will always, always be as one.
George Mansford © March 2017

Some computers have been programmed to prevent the delivery of messages with such obscenities. My apologies if I offend you however I was reared on basxxxrd and buggxx  off