Wading through rivers and
sleeping in marshes,
Fronting the C.O. on numerous charges,
Bamboo that rips me, the scorpion that stings,
These are a few of my favourite things.
Eating from dixies that I've used for shaving,
Spaghetti and meatballs have me almost raving.
Twenty-four hour packs can make a man cry –
I'll never eat camp pie again ‘til I die!
Rubber trees, rubber trees, rubber trees – crikey!
If I ever see one again I'll go psyche.
If you ever see me again in a tent,
You'll know it's for sure 'round the bend I've been sent.
Chomper ants, scorpions, and mozzies and leeches,
All through the night they just munch through my breeches.
Sitting on picket from midnight to three,
Waiting for stand down to have that first pee.
Officers, NCOs, other such daggies,
Why can't the army be run by the baggies?
The RMO, I.O. and Adjutant too,
Have you ever seen such a great bludging crew?
My fourth application for homer's rejected,
No wonder I feel so goddamned dejected!
I sit there for hours outside R.A.P.,
Oh when the RMO finish his tea?
Girls in white au dais who ask for five hundred,
Bars in old Vungers where diggers have chundered,
Streets full of garbage that stink of decay,
Kiddies who offer you, 'Short time, O.K.?'
The land of South Vietnam's a tourist attraction,
Glorious weather, plenty of action!
When I shall reach the Australian shore,
I know that I'll come back to Vietnam once more!
Nui Dat November 1966