Anzac Diary - Steve Davis

Ever since I interviewed Eric Bogle many years ago on 5MU, and we discussed (and I think we played) the full version of his iconic song, And The Band Played Waltzing Matilda, I have believed that song is the primary way we can enter the Anzac story with not just words and facts, but with a deep emotional connection.

Years later, John Schumann crafted I Was Only 19, and also captured the gut-wrenching elements of responding to the call and then enduring sheer horror.

So here we are in 2026, and I have just read the diary of signaller Ellis Silas, who survived the Gallipoli campaign, just, in 1915. His writing and insights drew me into the most visceral understanding of the experience our volunteers went through, no doubt made richer due to his background skills and sensibilities as a artist.

Ellis pulled no punches in his diary, nor did he seem to glorify or magnify or distort his accounts with romantic flourish. Instead, his ability to capture the minutiae of the experience, given context by the interweaving of campaign updates, places us right there, without the 24-hour dread of imminent death (or worse).

I am grateful to the Australian Government’s Department of Veterans’ Affairs, for maintaining the Anzac Portal, where generous extracts from Ellis’ diary can be read, and sketches seen, free of charge. If only history had been taught this way in school, we would have much better literacy of world affairs.

My reading of his diary coincided with discovering a similarly thoughtful and rich deep dive into war, via Dan Carlin’s Hardcore History podcast’s exploration of WW2 politics, military insight, and human suffering and endurance in the long, 6-part series, Supernova in the East. Although it is different territory, the themes align with those from Ellis’ diary. Again, it is impossible to absorb either account without being chastened and deeply moved.

The last piece of the puzzle that compelled me to craft this song, was the fact that Ellis used shore leave during transit to Egypt, to dash into the South Australian Art Gallery, to see his favourite Waterhouse painting “Circe Invidiosa” (1892), in which Circe poisons Scylla’s bath in venomous green. I have since gone and sat before that painting, as one small token way of showing solidarity with Ellis and his brethren. His story paints a richer, human element into the panorama of diggers and Turks engaged in battle.

Both in terms of this song, Anzac Diary, and in life as I move forward, reflecting on war, I will forever remain indebted to Carlin’s empathy for all involved in war (there are so many different situations and motivations) and Ellis’ keen eye for detail and commitment to honesty.

Lest We Forget.

This song, and these notes, are shared publicly, having received approval from the Minister for Veterans’ Affairs, via PERMIT No. 1053, under the Protection of Word ‘Anzac’ Regulations 2(1) and 3(1) and regulation 4V of the Customs (Prohibited Imports), on January 9, 2026.

Anzac Diary Lyrics

[Verse 1]
They put us on a ship to train in Egypt
It stopped along the way in Adelaide
I used my shore leave in the Gallery
To see my favourite Waterhouse displayed

It was his portrait of the jealous Circe
She was standing, angry in a cove
Pouring from her bowl an evil poison
Into the greenish waters down below

As we sailed onwards later to our fate
And I gazed at the serene Aegean Sea
T’was too early for me to appreciate
That painting was a dismal prophecy

[Chorus]
The noise of the guns
Is simply frightful
We can’t tell who
Is marked for death
It’s a great game
Of grim survival
As you stand
With who is left
Shell-o, shell-o
Comes the call
Under deadly
Shrapnel sky
As the screaming wounded
Gasp their last
“I’ve done my duty,
Haven’t I?”

[Verse 2]
First we saw the beauty of the Dardanelles
And then the deep bombardments could be heard
We’d been told that we’d be heading into Hell
And to a man each one was undeterred

On that April morning of the twenty fifth
We had our heavy kits strapped to our backs
As one we rowed toward the deadly forge
And there we’d be transformed into Anzacs

That first dusk we spent upon the battlefield
We got our first taste of the waiting Turks
Each water spurt or burst of flame revealed
Another dose of death – or something worse

[Verse 3]
And then the Sun sank and soon the darkness fell
On twenty thousand men, digging for their lives
How many men were dead, I could not tell
As the wounded screamed and groaned throughout the night

Light rain started as we slipped into ravines
Shallow dug outs were the best that we could do
No sleep tonight meant no horrific dreams
There was no rest as bombs and bullets flew

Then daybreak at Pope’s Hill was a poignant scene
Birds were out and chirping in the morning air
A bee was busy buzzing from leaf to leaf
I’d do anything to be that unaware

[Verse 4]
Every minute there’s another chap who’s dead
Snipers rarely miss when they’re yards away
I have never ever been this close to death
And we are only on our second day

Now we dearly need to get more ammo soon
If they want us to commence our next advance
And then we’re flattened by an awful boom
One of our own ships missed us by pure chance

Will this frightful noise of shooting ever cease
As more dead faces stare into the sky
At the moment I’d trade anything for peace
At the moment I’d be quite relieved to die

[Verse 5]
It’s ten days and I’m so weary I must rest
Every few yards as I walk and make my way
Scrambling low down as I move from trench to trench
Not even morphine takes this hell away

To make your way along these narrow walls
You pass unrecognisable remains
Of the fallen in the war to end all wars
Of comrades you will never see again

I see a new group of ready eager men
Head up the hill so they can reinforce
And then I see them carried down again
Covered in blood and lost in deep remorse

[Bridge]
Before you add your Anzac sleeve
And claim honour in their name
Spend some time in silent grief=
For those young lives that were slain

They didn’t seek the battle din
They didn’t seek heroic fame
But you can pay your true respect
By standing silent in the early Anzac rain

[Verse 6]
Before dawn we each must rise and stand to arms
Cold and dreary in the early morning mist
Roll is called, we wait for answers and stay calm
The silence marks the ones who fate has kissed

No more can I keep this diary so concise
I hope they soon are stories time forgot
The Turks now bomb at sun down and sun rise
There’s blood now on each damn square inch I’ve trod

As I wait to leave this foul and brutal shore
Board that ship that waits upon this sparkling sea
A flash of yellow, that god incessant roar
A new heap of mangled flesh bleeds out near me

Listen To Anzac Diary

Anzac Diary Raw Scratchings

Here are some shots of my original notes as I wrote this song. There are a further 20+ pages of my notes, scribbled down as I read through the Ellis Silas diary extracts.

However, before those notes from this song, here is my first foray into capturing the Anzac story, written when I was 10 years and 10 months old. I cringe in parts as a read this, but I honour the innocent attempt.

Anzac

Out of the Mediterranean
Into the Agean Sea
Came some Australian soldiers
Who wore badges of bravery

On to the coast of Galipoli
They scrambled here and there
To set up all the ammo
So they could play it fair

They didn’t know on the hilltop
That each Turk had a gun
To shoot down all the Aussies
So the war would be over and done

After the war had finished
On the beach there were blood-stained stones
And everywhere on the seaside
There were scattered bodies and bones

All the men that died
In that bloodthirsty war
Had died to keep the world
Free from trouble evermore

Let it be a lesson
For the children coming on
To keep peace all about us
For their children later on

(Steve Davis, Anzac Day 1977)