Bert Beros Poem
A famous poem by Sapper Bert Beros which illustrates the effort shown by the Fuzzy Wuzzy Angels:
The Fuzzy Wuzzies
- Many a mother in Australia
- when the busy day is done,
- Sends a prayer to the Almighty
- for the keeping of her son;
- Asking that an Angel guide him
- and bring him safely back -
- Now we see those prayers are answered
- on the Owen Stanley track.
- For they haven't any haloes
- only holes slashed through the ear
- And their faces worked by tattoos
- with scratch pins in their hair:
- Bringing back the badly wounded
- just as steady as a horse,
- Using leaves to keep the rain off
- and as gentle as a nurse
- Slow and careful in bad places
- on the awful mountain track
- The look upon their faces
- Would make you think that Christ was black
- Not a move to hurt the wounded
- as they treat him like a saint
- It's a picture worth recording
- that an artist's yet to paint
- Many a lad will see his mother
- and husbands see their wives
- Just because the fuzzy wuzzy
- carried them to save their lives
- From mortar bombs and machine gun fire
- or chance surprise attacks
- To the safety and the care of doctors
- at the bottom of the track
- May the mothers of Australia
- when they offer up a prayer.
- Mention these impromptu angels
- with their fuzzy wuzzy hair
Read more about this topic: Fuzzy Wuzzy Angels
Famous quotes containing the words bert and/or poem:
“Why dont you go home to your wife? Ill tell you what. Ill go home to your wife and outside of the improvements, youll never know the difference. Pull over to the side of the road there and let me see your marriage license.”
—S.J. Perelman, U.S. screenwriter, Bert Kalmar, Harry Ruby, and Norman Z. McLeod. Groucho Marx, Horsefeathers, a wisecrack made to Huxley Colleges outgoing president (1932)
“There were ghosts that returned to earth to hear his phrases,
As he sat there reading, aloud, the great blue tabulae.
They were those from the wilderness of stars that had expected more.
There were those that returned to hear him read from the poem of life,
Of the pans above the stove, the pots on the table, the tulips among them.
They were those that would have wept to step barefoot into reality....”
—Wallace Stevens (18791955)