An Australian Army Recruit sends home a letter

Dear Mum & Dad,

I am well. Hope you’re too. Tell me big brothers Doug and Phil that the Army is better than workin’ on the farm – tell them to get in quick smart before the jobs are all gone! I wuz a bit slow in settling down at first, because ya don’t hafta get outta bed until 6am. But I like sleeping in now, cuz all ya gotta do before brekky is make ya bed and shine ya boots and clean ya uniform. No cows to milk, no calves to feed, no feed to stack – nothin’!! Ya haz gotta shower though, but its not so bad, coz there’s lotsa hot water and even a light to see what ya doing!

At brekky ya get cereal, fruit and eggs but there’s no kangaroo steaks or possum stew like wot Mum makes. You don’t get fed again until noon and by that time all the city boys are dead because we’ve been on a ’route march’ – geez its only just like walking to the windmill in the back paddock!!

This one will kill me brothers Doug and Phil with laughter. I keep getting medals for shootin’ – dunno why. The bullseye is as big as a possum’s bum and it don’t move and it’s not firing back at ya like the Johnsons did when our big scrubber bull got into their prize cows before the Ekka last year! All ya gotta do is make yourself comfortable and hit the target! You don’t even load your own cartridges, they comes in little boxes, and ya don’t have to steady yourself against the rollbar of the roo shooting truck when you reload!

Sometimes ya gotta wrestle with the city boys and I gotta be real careful coz they break easy – it’s not like fighting with Doug and Phil and Jack and Boori and Steve and Muzza all at once like we do at home after the muster.

Turns out I’m not a bad boxer either and it looks like I’m the best the platoon’s got, and I’ve only been beaten by this one bloke from the Engineers – he’s 6 foot 5 and 15 stone and three pick handles across the shoulders and as ya know I’m only 5 foot 7 and eight stone wringin’ wet, but I fought him till the other blokes carried me off to the boozer.
I can’t complain about the Army – tell the boys to get in quick before word gets around how good it is.

Your loving daughter,
Sheila.

Related Posts

My 5-Year-Old Refused to Cut Her Hair, Saying, ‘I Want My Real Daddy to Recognize Me When He Comes Back’

When my five-year-old daughter refused to cut her hair, I didn’t think much of it until she said she wanted to keep her hair long for her…

The First Time My Daughter Held Her Newborn Sister, She Said Something That Caught Me Completely Off Guard

Everyone kept telling me this would be the moment—the moment. That picture-perfect sibling meeting I’d want to frame, post, remember forever. And yes, the photo looks sweet….

WE HIRED A NANNY, BUT HER SECRET NOTE CHANGED EVERYTHING

We hired a nanny, a quiet, 24-year-old girl named Sabine. She showed up for the interview wearing a plain navy dress and speaking so softly I had…

My Entitled Mother-in-Law Wore White Dresses to Two Weddings — But This Time, the Photographer Put Her in Her Place

When I got married, my mother-in-law, Linda, did something unforgettable — and not in a good way. She showed up to my wedding wearing a full white…

My Dad Doesn’t Say Much These Days—But Last Week He Looked At Me And Said Something He Hasn’t In Years

He’s always been the quiet kind. The guy who fixes things without saying they’re broken. Who shows up to help move your furniture but never calls just…

I Nearly Froze to Death at 8 Years Old Until a Homeless Man Saved Me—Today, I Accidentally Met Him Again

I never thought I’d see him again. Not after all these years. Not after he saved my life that night in the snowstorm and vanished without a…

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *