Page 6
I SAT IN THE DRIVERS SEAT OF 169005
FOR MY FIRST DRIVE IN 44 YEARS
and this is how I felt
I climbed into the drivers seat – and tried to settle down
T’was forty years and more – and the thought did bring a frown
My eyes scanned the dash – my hands were on the sticks
Adjust the seat and stretch the legs – that bloody clutch was stiff
I felt a touch of worry - as I pressed the pedal down
I knew I would sorry – and my brow creased in a frown
I knew my leg would kill me – in tomorrow’s early morn
When Tankie leg attacked me – I would stagger in the dawn
Depress the clutch and flick the stick - and slip it into neutral
It was time to hit the switch – to stop now would be futile
Revs up to a thousand – and watch the gauges settle
A burst to eighteen hundred – and I start to feel my metal
Gear stick into second – and you slowly start to move
You slip one earphone off your ear – to listen to the revs
You have to get this gear change right - and into third you go
You are feeling good and floor the foot - and power hits the road
Left stick, left stick again – and you straighten on the track
The powers on and another gear - and you slowly settle back
Its now in fifth and your driving fast – and you slowly look around
A touch of stick and it slews across – and you start to settles down
A rise comes up and you kick a gear – a lovely change you feel
That double clutch comes back at once - and the gear changes are real
The surge of power is great to feel – and you start to feel at home
The governor’s ping and you ease the foot – and your mind begins to roam
Your back forty years and your made of steel - and your world is one big rush
You kick in the power and feel the surge - you control this beast with a touch
Then it’s down a gear and you snick the change – and the memories come back again
To go back to your youth tis a wonderful thing – and so is to drive a Centurion again.
Col Filtness 2003
Vietnam
They told you to go – and you had no choice
There was no way to stop it
– because you had no voice
Torn from your loved ones –
a new life was formed
It was so different – not
like the norm
To Armoured you went – to
crew on a Cent
A few months to train
you - and off you went
To a land so strange – so
different and green
To help the people - you
never had seen
But you did what you had to
– to stem the tide
Twelve months of horror -
that was your ride
To live in a Cent – in the
jungle so dense
To fight an enemy – strong
eager and tense
I thought of mates – who’s
number had missed
They were sitting at home -
with the girls I had kissed
Born eighteen years – but
forty years old
I’ve seen so much – that can never be told
To try and see reason
When all we could think of –
were mates that were dead
The night brought back
memories – so bad that we cringed
The drink was a mercy – so
many did binge
Now I read of sportsmen –
called hero’s today
I agree they are great – but
hero’s they ain't
To risk your life – for some
of your mates
That to a civilian –they
cannot relate
When in the jungle – and
fighting so close
You jump from your tank –
with a pistol at most
Fire down in the bunker –
till your weapon goes click
Then back into your tank –
and into the sticks
Today I think - of mates at home
Out with the girlfriend – or
on the phone
While I wander around – a
dirty old Cent
And I wipe off an eye – that was stuck to a vent
Was it from a friend or enemy - this terrible show
It just happened yesterday – so no one will know
No one saw it - It was just
part of the day
A life is gone – why I cannot say
Out the back way - and out
of sight
Come back in a week – and we
will pay you then
Then kick you out – with nothing to spend
Why did I go there – and
what made me stay
A quick shot in the foot –
and I’d be on my way
Home to a country – to be
spat on and shamed
Home to a country - that should be ashamed
Col Filtness 2003
I would like to point out that I was not a Vietnam Vet,.
But every verse is from a story of an incident in Vietnam or a story told to me by a Vet.
This one I have no idea where it came from or who wrote it but it has a pride of place on my desk
All
his R.S.L. buddies listened, for they knew of what he spoke
But
we will hear these tales no longer, for old Bill has past away
And
the world’s a little poorer, for a Soldier died today
He
was just a common Soldier and his ranks are growing thin
But
his presence should remind us, we will need his type again
For
when countries are in conflict, then we find the Soldiers part
Is
to clean up all the troubles that others always start
If
we cannot give him honour, while he’s here to hear the praise
Then
at least let’s give him homage, at the ending of his days
Just
a simple message saying-----------------------------------
Our country is in mourning “cause a Soldier passed away.”
Now back to the Centurions.
169081 was rescued from the Puckapunyal Gunnery Range, restored and is now Holding Ground at the Gunnery Wing - Armoured School Puckapunyal
She had been penetrated with some projectiles and rather than repair them they have been highlighted
This shows how the projectiles can cut through armour like butter
169034 at Puckapunyal Armour Museum still showing the side skirts
I thought this was a MK 3 but was proved wrong as it had a .30 cal Co - Ax gun fitted
169056 Holding ground on the Parade Ground at Puckapunyal
Owned by Howard Bull at Cape Schanck Victoria
Howard runs a driving school for armoured vehicles
169063 At Cape Schanck Victoria
Running on the circuit
Late shot of Corruption
An old shot of 169063 taken at Puckapunyal about 1964--1965
Crewman is Ian Summers ---- Note the old black Tank Suit
These two crewmen are Harry Taylor on the left and Barry Rainey on the right 1964----1965
169073 Holding Ground at Bandiana at the museum of the 8/13 Victorian Mounted Rifles
169076 at Holbrook NSW
This tank I also now believe has gone to the scrap merchant in NSW and has been cut up for scrap.
