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I feel the trip wire taut against my knee.
The ant nests high up in that ironbark tree
Are concealed Claymores pointing at my head.
The corporal beside me says: “We’re dead”.

A swinging mace – tripped by our forward scout.
A spiked drum full of concrete packs a clout.
He’s lucky it’s a dummy used for training,
Or else he would have copped a proper braining.

The Vickers gun is firing overhead.
Crawl on your belly or for sure you’re dead.
It’s just pretend, but still those rounds are real.
To get killed by your mates – how would you feel?

I wouldn’t wish to fall into that pit.
Those perforating points are smeared with shit.
Such sharpened bamboo slivers can’t be fakes;
They’re genuine imported panji stakes.

Now listen lads, our oriental foe
Is clever, see this finely made crossbow?
Get hit by that, I doubt you’d see the joke.
They say a bolt once went right through a bloke.

Claymore – antipersonnel mine
Panji stakes – sharpened sticks (often coated with faeces) used
by the enemy during the Vietnam War.
Swinging mace – concrete filled 44 gallon drum with steel spikes,
suspended by a chain from a tree.
Crossbow – set to fire a bolt when triggered by a trip wire.

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