Tobruk

When a war was a war

Long after they were gone we went back to the farm

Found some letters in a draw, the ink was faded blue

When we untied the string, some sand fell out of them

The were post-marked Alexandria, 1942

My sister read them out, I still can hear her now

It could have been my father’s voice when he was twenty-four

He said, “Oh my darling one, there’s a distant boom of guns

Reminds me of Van Reenen’s in that sudden thunderstorm

I said the sky ain’t falling down, I tried to kiss away your frown

You got out in the rain and slammed the door

I was so angry when your tears just wouldn’t end

But it doesn’t matter that much anymore

Oh, my darling one, I don’t know what’s to come

The problem in a desert is you’ve got nowhere to hide

Allan says he’s fine, he’s like that all the time

So good to have a brother fighting at your side

There’s a town here called Tobruk, we went and had a look

All it means in Arabic is some place over the sea,

The nights are cold and long but the Desert Rats are strong

What they’re saying now is that it’s going to be a breeze

The folks they worry much too much, it’s understandable enough

They really just don’t know the ways of war

Oh, how they frightened you, it upset me so much too

But it doesn’t matter that much anymore

Now the guns are getting close, we’re scrambling for the coast

If we can get to Malta everything will be alright

Those Stukas, how they wail, now Rommel’s on our tail

They tell me it’ll all be done before the morning light

Oh my dear, my darling one, it feels as if we’ve just begun

You’re everything that I’ve been fighting for

Allan’s on his way to Rome, he says he’ll post these letters home

But it doesn’t matter that much anymore

*

For my father Allan and his younger brother Jock, one of the thousands of POWs who died of starvation in concentration camps in Italy, 1943-44.

Buried in Palermo.