The Mushroom Club Masthead


© 2012 Greg Tommasi

Straight white streaks across the sky,
Is all you see with the naked eye.
There is no sound from the sky above,
But they've come for "Charlie", with all our love.

A long way off there's a frightful din,
Their massive bombs are ploughing in.
The earth, it shakes from far away,
And even the leaves from the trees will stray.

Whole paddies turn to quarry pits,
Great masses of jungle torn to bits.
The holes they leave are really grouse,
They're deep enough to hide a house.

And all the dirt from in the ground,
Has vaporised, - it can't be found.
For every bomb weighs a thousand pounds,
It's "Hell on Earth" when they hit the ground.

A hundred or more from a single plane,
Either "Charlie's" dead or he's left insane.
So whichever way it's a job well done,
There's less of the bastards to carry a gun.

Terry Tommasi
Terry Tommasi
9 Platoon, C company 1966-67

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