By George Mansford

Always has been personal pride of warriors wearing military thread Confident and firm stride, be it off duty or on

Our proud flag, flying high above, is me and you Speak evil of her and she will in time bid

A very special sacred day to salute our fallen from the first to the last To reflect on glorious deeds

        1939–A war and its trials we did not seek  Can you recall far distant drumbeats of

. What strange rules for combat wrapped in white flags we use To placate political masters far distant from arenas

Remember those farewells, strong hugs and comforting hands The sounds of blaring busy airports, and perhaps military bands Or a

The night before the historic day, campfires were well alight Burning with true blue flickering flames so bright Creeping warmth

Soldiers are trained to kill and endure battle din No second chance, no shoulder shrugging or apologetic grin They bayonet,

You ask this old soldier where I’ve been Oh, to see the space age medics and their teams So many

Stand tall and proud for all those yesterdays When our flag of unity was first flown to lead the way

It is nearing 68 years since I returned late at night after leave in WA, and reported to the orderly

Amid constant gloom and distant frowns Increasing debt, and heads drooping down Comes a time when a youngster will ask

Faith, Hope, Unity and Purpose are Powerful National Weapons When you hear Mother Nature is about to tear us apart

Major General R.A. Grey AO, DSO – a salute from all his centurions, living and dead Find me the soldier who

I watched as the young widow laid her wreath. I wanted to tell her I was with her husband shortly

In the mist of time, Jock’s fond familiar image reaches out Fleeting frames of determination, duty and a heart so

Born on the sands of Egypt, christened with rum, then issued 303s Your sacred Cloths now stitched with proud deeds

Can you hear the stirring sounds of band and drums? As ghosts of Two Squadron’s many generations march as one