Remembrance

We sailed into Sunda Straight
In the golden purple twilight of the day.
The scything bow of "Derwent" sent flying fish
Leaping from her way.
The green black hills of Java
Crowded the horizon on our beam
The inky, silky, velvet night,
Enfolded us in our dream.
A waxy, tropic, orange moon
Lit the phosphor in our wake,
Tracked the veiled and secret journey,
Our pilgrimage to make.


In time we reached the hidden, holy place
That is marked upon the chart.
Where "Perth" is fixed in dreamless sleep
And in Australia's heart.
Our ship hoved to, above her,we gathered on the deck
To await the Old Man's arrival,
To speak above the wreck.
Skipper came now from the Bridge, and bade us gather near.
We Company fored about him, hushed and silent
his solemn words to hear.


He told us how the battle raged, the clamour, the fire,
The  shell.
How "Perth" with guns exhausted
Dipped beneath the boiling swell.
In silence then, we thought of life, now in our golden days
To never end.
And how our wars all fought in foreign lands
Left hearts refused to mend.

When death came into that iron ship,
Who thought of their Southern land?
Did older help younger greet Eternity,
And shake it by the hand.
Did brave hearts help the less courageous, Strong ones help the weak.
Shouts of damn defiance,
Did anybody speak?

The Captain prayed then for their souls,
And for those who go to sea.
In that inky, tropic blackness,
We were proud that he meant "Me."
When the Captain had departed
We made ready to be gone.
We gathered speed "Derwent" turned about
Her respectful duty done.

Thirty years, and more, have passed the bar
Since the night in Sunda Strait.
How the memory of it haunts me,
As the tale I now relate.
Now, each year, when called to ponder on Anzac Day,
And what it holds for me.
I do not think of The Somme, Vungtau,
Tobruk,or even Gallipoli.
No. I save my prayers, and fond remembrance
For Iron men, in Iron ships
And those who go down to sea.

Copyright. Michael Grelis 1991.