Author: Duncan Butler, 2/12th Field Ambulance

Published in Patsy Adam-Smith's book: "Prisoners of War", 1992

I've travelled down some lonely roads

Both crooked tracks and straight,

An' I've learned life's noblest creed

Summed up in one word … "Mate"

I'm thinking back across the years,

(a thing I do of late)

An' this word sticks between me ears

You've got to have a "Mate".

Someone who'll take you as you are

Regardless of your state

An' stand as firm as Ayres Rock

Because 'e is your mate.

Me mind goes back to '42

To slavery and 'ate

When Man's one chance to stay alive

Depended on 'is "Mate".

With bamboo for a billy-can

An' bamboo for a plate

A bamboo paradise for bugs,

Was bed for me and "Mate".

You'd slip and slither through the mud

And curse your rotten fate,

But then you'd 'ear a quiet word:

Don't drop your bundle "Mate"

And though it's all so long ago

This truth I 'ave to state:

A man don't know what lonely means

Til 'e 'as lost his "Mate".

If there's a life that follers this,

If there's a 'golden-gate',

The welcome I just want to 'ear

Is just "Good on y' Mate".

An' so to all that ask why

We keep these special dates,

Like "Anzac Day" … I answer "why?"

We're thinking of our "Mates".

An' when I've left the driver's seat,

An' handed in me plates,

I'll tell ol' Peter at the door

I've come to join me "Mates".