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AUSTRALIA'S ANZAC TRADITION
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THE
FINAL INSPECTION ~Author Unknown~
The
Soldier stood and faced his God, Which
must always come to pass. He
hoped his shoes were shining, Just
as brightly as his brass. "Step
forward now, you Soldier, How
shall I deal with you? Have
you always turned the other cheek? To
My Church have you been true?" The
Soldier squared his shoulders and said, "No,
my Lord, I ain't. Because
those of us who carry guns, Can't
always be a saint. I've
had to work most Sundays, And
at times my talk was tough. And
sometimes I've been violent, Because
the world is awfully rough. But,
I never took a dollar, That
wasn't mine to keep... Though
I worked a lot of overtime, When the bills got just too steep.
And
I never passed a cry for help, Though
at times I shook with fear. And
sometimes, God, forgive me, I've
wept unmanly tears. I
know I don't deserve a place, Among
the people here. They
never wanted me around, Except
to calm their fears. If
you've a place for me here, Lord, It
needn't be so grand. I
never expected or had too much, But
if you don't, I'll understand. There
was a silence all around the throne, Where
the saints had often trod. As
the Soldier waited quietly, For
the judgment of his God. "Step
forward now, you Soldier, You've
borne your burdens well. Walk
peacefully on Heaven's streets, You've
done your time in Hell." Home * Contact * INDEX * Current Issues * Priority Issues * Reference Index * Selwyn's Profile * Your Comments
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Written and Authorised by Selwyn Johnston,
Cairns FNQ 4870 |