Life in the Australian Army...
>
> Text of a letter from a kid from Eromanga to Mum and Dad. (For
> Those of you not in the know, Eromanga is a small town, west of
> Quilpie in the far south west of Queensland)
>
>
>
>
> Dear Mum & Dad,
>
> I am well. Hope youse are too. Tell me big brothers Doug and Phil
> that the Army is better than workin' on the farm - tell them to get
> in bloody quick
> smart before the jobs are all gone! I wuz a bit slow in settling
> down at first, because ya don't hafta get outta bed until 6am. But
> I like sleeping in now, cuz all yagotta do before brekky is make ya
> bed and shine ya boots and clean ya uniform. No bloody cows to
> milk, no calves to feed, no feed to stack - nothin'!! Ya haz gotta
> shower though, but its not so bad, coz there's lotsa hot water and
> even a light to see what ya doing!
>
> At brekky ya get cereal, fruit and eggs but there's no kangaroo
> steaks or possum stew like wot Mum makes. Youdon't get fed again
> until noon and by
> that time all the city boys are buggered because we've been on a
> 'route march' - geez its only just like walking to the windmill in
> the back paddock!!
>
> This one will kill me brothers Doug and Phil with laughter. I keep
> getting medals for shootin' - dunno why. The bullseye is as big as
> a bloody possum's bum and it don't move and it's not firing back at
> ya like the Johnsons did when our big scrubber bull got into their
> prize cows before the Ekka last year! All ya gotta do is make
> yourself comfortable and hit the target - it's a piece of pi$$!!
> You don't even load your own cartridges they comes in little boxes
> and ya don't have to steady yourself against the rollbar of the roo
> shooting truck when you reload!
>
> Sometimes ya gotta wrestle with the city boys and I gotta be real
> careful coz they break easy - it's not like fighting with Doug and
> Phil and Jack and Boori and Steve and Muzza all at once like we do
> at home after the muster.
> Turns out I'm not a bad boxer either and it looks like I'm the best
> the platoon's got, and I've only been beaten by this one bloke from
> the Engineers - he's 6 foot 5 and 15 stone and three pick handles
> across the shoulders and as ya know I'm only 5 foot 7 and eight
> stone wringin' wet,but I foughthim till the other blokes carried me
> off to the boozer.
>
> I can't complain about the Army - tell the boys to get in quick
> before word gets around how bloody good it is.
>
> Your loving daughter,
>
> Sheila