David J. Delaney


They walk the shifting sand like those who went before,
now in that ancient land still fighting in a war.
They once again defend, the young answer the call,
joined by their Kiwi friends, they’re ANZAC’s proud and tall.
While now the Hum-vee’s rule where once were camel train,
and desert life is cruel, support we must sustain.

They fly the open skies like those who went before,
though fear is in their eyes, they hope to end this war.
Insurgents hidden well, with missiles in their hands.
At times it must be hell to fly those hostile lands.
Now in their super jets, not like those planes of old.
I hope no one forgets, the sacrifices told.

They sail the oceans wide like those who went before,
with allies by their side, protecting ports and shores.
They’re boarding suspect ships that could have contraband,
then, guiding battleships they fight the Taliban.
They glide on ‘Omans’ waves, or ghosts in submarines
while many lives they save, on daily scout routines.

The young now fight the fight, like those so long ago.
Believing this is right to beat the hidden foe.
When home they do return and nightmares are now told,
these visions will confirm, they’ll need someone to hold.
So with each morning light, respect for ever more,
they all have earned this right — like those who went before.