Changi Larrikins
They huddle in the bush, like thieves who strike then flee the fight
and know if they are caught, they’d not survive another night.
Just like a well drilled team, complete their mission in quick time,
then join the other prisoners in guarded wire confines.
For fuel is gold and buys supplies that’s needed by the men
while all the while they risk of being bashed there once again.
But rendezvous they do, Chinese and local tribes pay well,
where, only for a moment they’d forget about this hell.
Though, death and cruelty for all those captured was abound
and any misdemeanour, would bring bashings all around,
or working on that rail line where so many aussie’s died,
they kept their sense of humour and their noted aussie pride.
Word filtered through the compound that the commandants flash car,
ran dry of fuel when he approached, the freshly laid black tar.
The only give away, around this god forsaken place,
a certain group of aussie’s — with huge grins upon their face.
David J Delaney
19/02/2010 ©
Based on a true story as told by my step father-in-law, Norm Hutley,
who spent 3.5 years in Changi prison camp during world war 2.
