This war now called 'unnecessary', or as the ill informed proclaim
We only did some 'mopping up', 'twould seem 'twas just a game.
But if those armchair 'experts' take a trip up Moresby way
Neat white crosses at Bomaga silence critics such as they.
But if you've never scaled a summit, despite the ache and pain,
Then you've not soaked in full measure a panoramic plain.
And one thing I'm cognisant of, it's been true since time begun
That no shadow ever falls at all, where there never shines a sun!
And when the war was over they shipped us to Rabaul
To round up our erstwhile enemy, our last overseas locale
And more than two score years would pass 'ere Keith Miles took a stand
To set up our first reunion, with Joe Sellen his right hand.
But time moves on more swiftly now as those left of us grow old,
When we can but recall the days, when we were young and bold.
And as I look around this room, at the heads now turning white,
A colour patch of diamond shape binds us each reunion night.
Flannel shades of Blue 'n' Purple, rampant on it's corner square.
Adorned our faded puggarees, on slouch hats so proud to wear.
It still symbolises mateship in a bond extraordinaire,
That the years can't diminish, though our ranks are thinned and spare.
So while the Twenty Sixth Battalion on history's page must wane,
And there's just each year's reunion for us all who still remain,
I'm sure the assembly here understands the point I take,
If I could have my time again and the choice was mine to make
I'd be real proud and grateful too, to embrace the self same team