Louis was my dearest friend
Fighting in the Anzac trench.
Louis ran forward from the line,
And I never saw him again.
Later in the dark
I though I heard Louis' voice
Calling for his Mother, then me,
But I couldn't get to him.
He's still up there on that hill.
20 years on that hill.
Nothing more than a pile of bones,
But I think of him still
If I was asked I'd tell
The colour of the earth that day;
It was dull and browny-red,
"the colour of blood" I'd say.
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