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boodieSometimes iTunes throws up some interesting song combinations, just by chance it
played Khe Sanh by Cold Chisel followed by I was Only 19 (A walk In the Light
Green) by Redgum, now as any red blooded Australian worth their salt knows that
both songs are about the Vietnam war, or more importantly the aftermath.
Khe Sanh is considered to be an classic Australian song that most often gets
sung in the pub by drunk people who then almost come to blows over whether it's
'the last train out of Sydney' or 'the last plane out of Sydney'.
Reasoned explanation that the next line is about spending seven hours and then he'll
be hitting 'some hong kong matress all night long' and 'in the arms of a chinese
princess' will get you nowhere. People, drunk loud people will still argue that
he's catching the 'last train'. Barnesy himself could be in the pub knocking
back a few and tell them it's the 'last plane' and they still won't believe him,
they'll argue til they are blue in the face that it's the 'last train'.
Which is a bit sad because it ignore the absolutely brilliant and cutting commentary
lyrics from Don Walker, personally the only Vietnam veteran that I knew was the father
of my best friend at High School, my own father didn't serve in Vietnam, I'm not sure
if it was because his number just didn't come up, or some other reason we don't talk about.
My friends father was a bit 'strange' at times, he liked to be alone, and he drank a lot,
and sometimes he said and did weird things, my friends Mum just told us to ignore him
and that he didn't mean what he said and that it was just best not to annoy him and to
leave him alone.
Of course now I can recognise the symptons of PTSD, he was always never 'quite well' so
I also imagine that there was some Agent Orange damage going on as well, but back then in
1977 it wasn't talked about or even believed that there could be problems from the wide
spread use of a dangerous pesticide.
Khe Sanh talks about the problem that a lot of Vietnam vets had about fitting in back to
the 'real world' after their tour of duty was up, especially those who came back after
the protests, they were the first lot of War veterans that were actively hated and ignored
by a great swathe of the population, not for them the pride of marching on Anzac day or
the greatful thank yous of a relieved populace.
Khe Sanh
(Don Walker)
I left my heart to the sappers round Khe Sanh
And my soul was sold with my cigarettes to the blackmarket man
I've had the Vietnam cold turkey
From the ocean to the Silver City
And it's only other vets could understand
About the long forgotten dockside guarantees
How there were no V-day heroes in 1973
How we sailed into Sydney Harbour
Saw an old friend but couldn't kiss her
She was lined, and I was home to the lucky land
And she was like so many more from that time on
Their lives were all so empty, till they found their chosen one
And their legs were often open
But their minds were always closed
And their hearts were held in fast suburban chains
And the legal pads were yellow, hours long, paypacket lean
And the telex writers clattered where the gunships once had been
But the car parks made me jumpy
And I never stopped the dreams
Or the growing need for speed and novacaine
So I worked across the country end to end
Tried to find a place to settle down, where my mixed up life could mend
Held a job on an oil-rig
Flying choppers when I could
But the nightlife nearly drove me round the bend
And I've travelled round the world from year to year
And each one found me aimless, one more year the worst for wear
And I've been back to South East Asia
But the answer sure ain't there
But I'm drifting north, to check things out again
You know the last plane out of Sydney's almost gone
Only seven flying hours, and I'll be landing in Hong Kong
There ain't nothing like the kisses
From a jaded Chinese princess
I'm gonna hit some Hong Kong mattress all night long
Well the last plane out of Sydney's almost gone
Yeah the last plane out of Sydney's almost gone
And it's really got me worried
I'm goin' nowhere and I'm in a hurry
And the last plane out of Sydney's almost gone
So the next time you feel like belting out Australias' unofficial National anthem, spare a
thought for the meaning behind it, it's far more than a karaoke/pissed as newt
drinking song, far far more.
That of course brings us to I Was Only 19, this one speaks more of the unfairness of
the ballot and how conscription changed and ruined so many young lives, fighting a
war that in reality had fuck all to do with Australias' security and far more to do
America trying to take something that wasn't theirs to begin with.
The first time I heard I Was Only 19 I will admit that I cried, it touched me in the same
place that hearing 'And the Band Played Waltzing Matilda' did, and even now both songs hit a
raw nerve, something about the way both songs tell in essence the same story, but
with two different endings.
I Was Only 19 (A Walk In The Light Green)
John Schumann
Mum and Dad and Denny saw the passing-out parade at Puckapunyal
It was a long march from cadets.
The sixth battalion was the next to tour, and it was me who drew the card.
We did Canungra, Shoalwater before we left.
And Townsville lined the footpaths as we marched down to the quay
This clipping from the paper shows us young and strong and clean.
And there's me in my slouch hat with my SLR and greens.
God help me, I was only nineteen.
From Vung Tau, riding Chinooks, to the dust at Nui Dat
I'd been in and out of choppers now for months.
But we made our tents a home, VB and pinups on the lockers
And an Asian orange sunset through the scrub.
And can you tell me, doctor, why I stil can't get to sleep?
And night-time's just a jungle dark and a barking M16?
And what's this rash that comes and goes, can you tell me what it means?
God help me, I was only ninteen.
A four week operation when each step could mean your last one on two legs
It was a war within yourself.
But you wouldn't let your mates down til they had you dusted off
So you closed your eyes and thought about something else.
Then someone yelled out "Contact!" and the bloke behind me swore
We hooked in there for hours, then a Godalmighty roar
Frankie kicked a mine the day that mankind kicked the moon,
God help me, he was going home in June.
I can still see Frankie, drinking tinnies in the Grand Hotel
On a thirty-six hour rec leave in Vung Tau
And I can still hear Frankie, lying screaming in the jungle
Til the morphine came and killed the bloody row.
And the Anzac legends didn't mention mud and blood and tears
And the stories that my father told me never seemed quite real.
I caught some pieces in my back that I didn't even feel
God help me, I was only nineteen.
And can you tell me, doctor, why I still can't get to sleep?
And why the Channel Seven chopper chills me to my feet?
And what's this rash that comes and goes, can you tell me what it means?
God help me, I was only nineteen.
I always found it a little bit sad that it took Australia so damn long to oficially
recognise the War service of the Vietnam vets, even in RSL (Returned Servicemans League)
Vietnam vets were looked upon as slightly inferior for so many decades. There were no
welcome home parades for the Vietnam vets, it was definitely like the Government
wanted to forget that we'd sent off our young men, our best and brightest, conscripted
them, sent them to fight in a war that we had no business in being in.
Vets from the Sudan, Boxer Rebellion, Boer War, WW1 and WW2 were held in high esteem on
their return. Vets from Malaya and Korea were ignored but tolerated if encountered.
Viet Nam vets felt somewhat cheated, firstly because they were hampered in
(even stopped from) winning the war by the very political system that sent them and
then secondly because they were abused by the people that they represented.
After 1968 the tide started turning against the Vietnam war in Australia, so any
homecoming parades attracted protests and violence, so the Govt just stopped having
them, making the Vets feel even more distanced and disenchanted.
Australia held an offcial 'Welcome Home' march on the 3rd October 1987, some fourteen
years after the last Australian battalion was withdrawn from Vietnam. That went some
way to healing some of the distress, and now finally the Vietnam vets are applauded
at Anzac Day ceremonies, I can't see any of the current diggers serving in Iraq or
Afghanistan being treated in the same way when they finally all come home, and
that's a good thing.
Even if I don't agree that we should be in Iraq, and that we should NEVER have been
in Iraq, the reality is that our Men and Women are serving with honour and that
is how we should treat them when they come back.
So hopefully there won't have to be songwriters who write songs that deal with the
disenfranchising of Iraqi and Afghani Vets.
And before I forget ANOTHER song about the Vietnam war and the aftermath, Compulsory Hero from 1927, this one also made me sad.
played Khe Sanh by Cold Chisel followed by I was Only 19 (A walk In the Light
Green) by Redgum, now as any red blooded Australian worth their salt knows that
both songs are about the Vietnam war, or more importantly the aftermath.
Khe Sanh is considered to be an classic Australian song that most often gets
sung in the pub by drunk people who then almost come to blows over whether it's
'the last train out of Sydney' or 'the last plane out of Sydney'.
Reasoned explanation that the next line is about spending seven hours and then he'll
be hitting 'some hong kong matress all night long' and 'in the arms of a chinese
princess' will get you nowhere. People, drunk loud people will still argue that
he's catching the 'last train'. Barnesy himself could be in the pub knocking
back a few and tell them it's the 'last plane' and they still won't believe him,
they'll argue til they are blue in the face that it's the 'last train'.
Which is a bit sad because it ignore the absolutely brilliant and cutting commentary
lyrics from Don Walker, personally the only Vietnam veteran that I knew was the father
of my best friend at High School, my own father didn't serve in Vietnam, I'm not sure
if it was because his number just didn't come up, or some other reason we don't talk about.
My friends father was a bit 'strange' at times, he liked to be alone, and he drank a lot,
and sometimes he said and did weird things, my friends Mum just told us to ignore him
and that he didn't mean what he said and that it was just best not to annoy him and to
leave him alone.
Of course now I can recognise the symptons of PTSD, he was always never 'quite well' so
I also imagine that there was some Agent Orange damage going on as well, but back then in
1977 it wasn't talked about or even believed that there could be problems from the wide
spread use of a dangerous pesticide.
Khe Sanh talks about the problem that a lot of Vietnam vets had about fitting in back to
the 'real world' after their tour of duty was up, especially those who came back after
the protests, they were the first lot of War veterans that were actively hated and ignored
by a great swathe of the population, not for them the pride of marching on Anzac day or
the greatful thank yous of a relieved populace.
Khe Sanh
(Don Walker)
I left my heart to the sappers round Khe Sanh
And my soul was sold with my cigarettes to the blackmarket man
I've had the Vietnam cold turkey
From the ocean to the Silver City
And it's only other vets could understand
About the long forgotten dockside guarantees
How there were no V-day heroes in 1973
How we sailed into Sydney Harbour
Saw an old friend but couldn't kiss her
She was lined, and I was home to the lucky land
And she was like so many more from that time on
Their lives were all so empty, till they found their chosen one
And their legs were often open
But their minds were always closed
And their hearts were held in fast suburban chains
And the legal pads were yellow, hours long, paypacket lean
And the telex writers clattered where the gunships once had been
But the car parks made me jumpy
And I never stopped the dreams
Or the growing need for speed and novacaine
So I worked across the country end to end
Tried to find a place to settle down, where my mixed up life could mend
Held a job on an oil-rig
Flying choppers when I could
But the nightlife nearly drove me round the bend
And I've travelled round the world from year to year
And each one found me aimless, one more year the worst for wear
And I've been back to South East Asia
But the answer sure ain't there
But I'm drifting north, to check things out again
You know the last plane out of Sydney's almost gone
Only seven flying hours, and I'll be landing in Hong Kong
There ain't nothing like the kisses
From a jaded Chinese princess
I'm gonna hit some Hong Kong mattress all night long
Well the last plane out of Sydney's almost gone
Yeah the last plane out of Sydney's almost gone
And it's really got me worried
I'm goin' nowhere and I'm in a hurry
And the last plane out of Sydney's almost gone
So the next time you feel like belting out Australias' unofficial National anthem, spare a
thought for the meaning behind it, it's far more than a karaoke/pissed as newt
drinking song, far far more.
That of course brings us to I Was Only 19, this one speaks more of the unfairness of
the ballot and how conscription changed and ruined so many young lives, fighting a
war that in reality had fuck all to do with Australias' security and far more to do
America trying to take something that wasn't theirs to begin with.
The first time I heard I Was Only 19 I will admit that I cried, it touched me in the same
place that hearing 'And the Band Played Waltzing Matilda' did, and even now both songs hit a
raw nerve, something about the way both songs tell in essence the same story, but
with two different endings.
I Was Only 19 (A Walk In The Light Green)
John Schumann
Mum and Dad and Denny saw the passing-out parade at Puckapunyal
It was a long march from cadets.
The sixth battalion was the next to tour, and it was me who drew the card.
We did Canungra, Shoalwater before we left.
And Townsville lined the footpaths as we marched down to the quay
This clipping from the paper shows us young and strong and clean.
And there's me in my slouch hat with my SLR and greens.
God help me, I was only nineteen.
From Vung Tau, riding Chinooks, to the dust at Nui Dat
I'd been in and out of choppers now for months.
But we made our tents a home, VB and pinups on the lockers
And an Asian orange sunset through the scrub.
And can you tell me, doctor, why I stil can't get to sleep?
And night-time's just a jungle dark and a barking M16?
And what's this rash that comes and goes, can you tell me what it means?
God help me, I was only ninteen.
A four week operation when each step could mean your last one on two legs
It was a war within yourself.
But you wouldn't let your mates down til they had you dusted off
So you closed your eyes and thought about something else.
Then someone yelled out "Contact!" and the bloke behind me swore
We hooked in there for hours, then a Godalmighty roar
Frankie kicked a mine the day that mankind kicked the moon,
God help me, he was going home in June.
I can still see Frankie, drinking tinnies in the Grand Hotel
On a thirty-six hour rec leave in Vung Tau
And I can still hear Frankie, lying screaming in the jungle
Til the morphine came and killed the bloody row.
And the Anzac legends didn't mention mud and blood and tears
And the stories that my father told me never seemed quite real.
I caught some pieces in my back that I didn't even feel
God help me, I was only nineteen.
And can you tell me, doctor, why I still can't get to sleep?
And why the Channel Seven chopper chills me to my feet?
And what's this rash that comes and goes, can you tell me what it means?
God help me, I was only nineteen.
I always found it a little bit sad that it took Australia so damn long to oficially
recognise the War service of the Vietnam vets, even in RSL (Returned Servicemans League)
Vietnam vets were looked upon as slightly inferior for so many decades. There were no
welcome home parades for the Vietnam vets, it was definitely like the Government
wanted to forget that we'd sent off our young men, our best and brightest, conscripted
them, sent them to fight in a war that we had no business in being in.
Vets from the Sudan, Boxer Rebellion, Boer War, WW1 and WW2 were held in high esteem on
their return. Vets from Malaya and Korea were ignored but tolerated if encountered.
Viet Nam vets felt somewhat cheated, firstly because they were hampered in
(even stopped from) winning the war by the very political system that sent them and
then secondly because they were abused by the people that they represented.
After 1968 the tide started turning against the Vietnam war in Australia, so any
homecoming parades attracted protests and violence, so the Govt just stopped having
them, making the Vets feel even more distanced and disenchanted.
Australia held an offcial 'Welcome Home' march on the 3rd October 1987, some fourteen
years after the last Australian battalion was withdrawn from Vietnam. That went some
way to healing some of the distress, and now finally the Vietnam vets are applauded
at Anzac Day ceremonies, I can't see any of the current diggers serving in Iraq or
Afghanistan being treated in the same way when they finally all come home, and
that's a good thing.
Even if I don't agree that we should be in Iraq, and that we should NEVER have been
in Iraq, the reality is that our Men and Women are serving with honour and that
is how we should treat them when they come back.
So hopefully there won't have to be songwriters who write songs that deal with the
disenfranchising of Iraqi and Afghani Vets.
And before I forget ANOTHER song about the Vietnam war and the aftermath, Compulsory Hero from 1927, this one also made me sad.
