The 2ESB in Verse

Smoke screen at Yeppon Australia, to hide
landing craft in an amphibian exercise

WELL DONE

The tides of war have surged across the world,
Their flood of hate released upon mankind.
To keep out home-land free, we had to fight
In far-off lands beneath the tropic sun.

Our landing craft went roaring o'er the tide
To many hostile shores. We struck at dawn
Our arms aglint in morning's first stray light.
With trucks and 'dozers too we smashed ashore.

From "Aussie-land" to Guinea's wilds, we inched
The hard road back through stinking jungles dim.
Though now a few had found their last long rest,
We licked our wounds and went back in for more.

Still farther north, the octopus was spread
From Zamboango to Lingayen Gulf,
Until our boats its deadly grip did break
To make a country once more proud and free.

Then forward to new shores our men embarked,
To seize the final beach-head from the foe.
Now that mankind is freed of hate at last,
The Second E. S. B. has done its task.

Awards and medals glitter on the chests
Of fighting men for valiant deeds achieved.
But for our feats, the best reward is this-
Second E. S. B., WELL DONE!!!

C. D. WHITTAKER.

"THE FLAT BOTTOMED NAVY"

A tribute to the men of the 2d American Landing Craft Brigade...just before we leave New Guinea There's a poem we'd like to draft To those stirling Yankee watermen Who manned the landing craft.

Kind generous openhearted
And game to their very core
Nip's strafing and bombing they laughed at
As they ferried us up to the shore.

At Lae, Finschhafen and elsewhere
Undaunted they kept on the job
Landing their human cargoes there
Valiantly doing a job.

That was vital in this rugged country
To the success of the Allied Cause
Though 'oft tired, cold, wet and weary
They toiled on without a pause.

Mere words cannot describe them
Or the esteem in which they are held
By the men of the 9th Aust. Division
A "band of the finest weld."

They're the unsung heroes of Lae-Sio,
Reliable valiant and staunch
"You'll do"! was the verdict the Divvy gave
These men of the landing craft, launch.

Yes! "You'll do"! the highest form of praise
The Aussie ere gives whom it fits
And it sure fits you blokes from the U. S. A.
Who gave us those "Taxi boat" lifts.

You've earned for yourselves
A warm spot in the hearts
Of the lads who wear the framed "T"
And tales will be told of the great job you did
Wherever these lads may be.

So! A toast to Ye Marines of flat bottomed boats
Who hail from the land of Columbus
"May your great shadows never grow less"
Is the firm wish of every one of us.

And when it's all over and homewards you trek
Your job well and faithfully "Finnie"
You'll carry with you the good wishes, respect
Of the lads whom you met in New Guinea.

And may you and yours through the long years to come
Have the best of good luck and no failure
It's the heartfelt wish that sure echoes from
Those 9th Divvy lads of Australia.

QX "T" New Guinea 2-18-44.
Australian 9th Division Soldier

THE 9TH DIV'S LITTLE BOATS

They Landed us on the beachhead.
When we made our assault on Lae;
It was their first taste of battle,
When , they took us in that day.

They didn't heed the bullets.
Or the bombers angry roar.
They stood at the wheel of their barges,
And drove them at the shore!

And they backed us up and helped us
On the long drive up the coast,
We'll get supplies and ammo through,
Without fail, was their boast.

Into little bays the japs had held
Not very long before,
They nosed their little barges,
And drove them at the shore!

They brought our mail and rations up,
And put them on the beach.
When the Zeros tried to stop them,
Their gun crews took a hand.

In wet and stormy weather,
With the crew of three in each,
Those Yankees get their barges through,
And land them on the beach!

We loaded on our wounded,
And they took them back to base.
Then loaded up with stores once more,
To the battle front they race.

They did just what we asked them,
No man could e're do more,
The Yanks with their little barges,
Plying from shore to shore!

And when the war is over,
It will live in our memories.
How the Yankee boat battalion,
Conquered the Coral Seas.

The Jap too, will remember,
The worst sight he ever saw,
Was the little Yankee barges
Racing at his shore.

-Another Soldier, Aust. 9th Div.

BILL HEAVEY'S BRIGADE

Dedicated to the Men of the Second Engineer Special Brigade
Commanded by Brig. Gen. William (Bill) Heavey

The orders, were secret, so not a man knew
|He was picked, from the best in the land
From all over, they came, not knowing who
They "hushed" The Amphibian Command

They preached them a story, of stark death, or glory
For beach-heads, are suicide made
You are Cape Cod Commandos-hit
but don't run Line up, for the Second Brigade

The pick of the Army, spiced with the blarney
You're the stuff, from which heroes, are made
So, they threw them together, for fair or foul weather
To make up Bill Heavey's Brigade

They started to train, in the mud, and the rain
They practiced beach landings, that paid
Tho it was plain hell, they stood up to it well
Those boys of Bill Heavey's Brigade

The training was sound, soon Florida bound
Then the coast, and the surf, where they stayed
Till hardened, and toughened, they put them aboard
"Down Under" went Heavey's Brigade

They landed one day, in the south-west P. A.
Started in then, at their trade
Made the first landing, boosted their standing
In the name of Bill Heavey's Brigade

Up to New Guinea, where Tojo still ruled
Where the keystone of an empire, he laid
They came with their M's and their little V's
And in went Bill Heavey's Brigade

To land on the beach, unload, and retract
While Too tight-lipped, and dismayed
Began his retreat, at Nassau, and Lae
Then he first met Bill Heavey's Brigade

At Finschhafen, Saidor, and Arawe, too
Those little boats plowed, unafraid
And Tojo bewildered, retreated, withdrew
At the threat of Bill Heavey's Brigade

On the Dutch Guinea shore, there'll be many more
Where they'll fight, as they ply their grim trade
Till this war is over, on sea, and on shore
You'll hear of Bill Heavey's Brigade

They saw plenty action, and gave satisfaction
In every beach landing, they paid
Yet they still voice a prayer, to hope you will share
In the luck of Bill Heavey's Brigade

Tho they don’t boast about it, they all like to say
Each man gave his best, to the trade
They are happy, and proud, to be one of the crowd
That belongs to Bill Heavey's Brigade

If there is a world, beyond this one of ours
When over the Jordon, you wade
You'll probably find, the small boats are manned
By the boys from Bill Heavey's Brigade.

-W. S. ELLIOTT.