KIDD FROM TIMARU

Dominion, Volume 8, Issue 2497, 25 June 1915, Page 3

KIDD FROM TIMARU

"A sunny-faccd .youngster from Timaru —Jio was always cracking up his little town— fought like a. young tigor. He's in hospital now, but will be heard of again."— Extract from a soldier's letter. The boys aboard the transport wore tusy talking "fight," Wo'd just begun our journey, said "Good-bye" to Farewell light, Some wero skitiu' awful of tho deeds they meant to do, Whon he butted in promiskus with— "I'm Ividd from Timaru." His years were twenty; warm' hair above two steel-grey eyes, A laughin' face—you know the sort— the smile that makes smiles rise; At first we barely noticed him uutil again he drew Attention, by repeatin' Ms—"l'm Kidd from Timaru. Oh! Timaru!—that tiny town—he'd got it on the brain. We'd start to talk of many things but he stuck to one refrain; We hoped we might see London, p'raps Berlin, and Paris too; And then he calmly asked us, if we'd been in Timaru. And he'd a girl in Timaru—a girl with Irish eyes— "A genuine oil paintin' "; guessed she'd tumbled from the skies; He referred to her as "scrumptious"— was satisfied he knew That her eyes were fixed on Egypt, though she lived in Timaru. Egypt! Well, we got there, to its endless sand and sun. Then drilling, always drilling—a case of never"done; Sand and sand, ficrco burning sand, out red hot curses drew, And Kidd admitted Egypt had more sand than Timaru. Then came the news that we could get a chance to win on* spurs, To piny the game and show our breed was not a breed of curs. We were ordered off to to face the Turkish crew, We yelled "New Zealand will he there," —Kidd said "And Timaru." A rousin' cheer, that split the sky, went boundin' through the air; We vow'd when we struck Gaba they'd know that we were there. We swore for King and Country, cmr very best to ao, Kidd swore for King and Country, but added—'Timaru. The world knows how we played the game on Gaba Tope's sliore, How ploughin' through the gates of Hell, the brunt of fire we bore, Blood-painted sand proclaimed the doom of comrades good and true; But bullets somehow 6oemed to miss young Kidd from Timaru. We faced "Loosed Hell" as we scrunched o'er the sand to scale the cliff, While Turkish snipers' rifles mowed men down at every whiff; No fellows stopped to count the cost as up ithe bank we flew, And level with the foremost ran young Kidd from Timaru. Old Abdul under cover was as cunnin' as a rat; As yet wo'd done no shootin'—saw notliin' to shoot at, Till a Turkey popped his head up; that head he ne er withdrew, For a rifle pinged, the sergeant Baid, "Tuik's head for Timaru." And when .the fight was over, and each had done hw part, And felt like men and eoldiers, with aching eye and heart, I searched among the wounded, for the fellows that I knew, I toned 0110 over on tho sand—'twas Kidd from Timaru. He'd carried in his Captain, almost dying through tho wrack j Of smoke and tire of battle; but just as ' he'd got back, A Turkish sniper "pink'd" him, but the bullet went clean through, And when he's well they'll hear again from Kidd of Timaru. Wo both could do with patchin', so they popped us into dock, Where we lie, with many others, with our eyes fixed on the clock, Wonderin' when the time will como, when we're well enough to do Our bit for Old Now Zealand—Kidd, Bomo moro for Timaru. i Last week a "head" slipped in and read a cable from the King; He thanked liis "gallant soldiers!" we made the sick room ring With cheers—real rousin' hearty cheers —then Kidd said "Strike me blue, I liopa to God he's not forgot to cable Timaru." —Bai-rie Marschel. Wellington, June M.