First Ride

Observation Post, Volume 1, Issue 30, 11 December 1942, Page 10

First Ride

Sunday morning M.C. ’s big day. Goaded by promises of every assistance by my fellow riders, 1 timidly approached the marquee in which these roaring beasts were housed. Already I could hear their full-throated, impatient snarls, intermingling with fierce snorts of defiance at the manner in which their stubborn, unresponsive engines were being forced in submission. At length I ar. ived at the scene of this devastating noise to find five large brutes already in line, roarin’ to go. I was instructed which of these I had to ride.—To me the name Indian seemed most appropriate as I stood and nervously eyed the angry flame-like spurts issuing from the exhaust. On enquiring I was supposedly shown throttle, spark, choke, petrol taps, etc., and their functions. By this time my associates were eagerly awaiting our departure. Thinking my efforts would perhaps delay them I suggested they should proceed ahead and await my arrival at a crossroad some miles distant. Ah! I was alone. Now to do battle with my fiery steed —standing motionless, yet emitting a staccato roar as though giving vent to certain uncontrollable emotions. I gingerly lowered myself into the saddle.’ A tremble of expectancy, combined with helplessness, possessing me. Gently depressing the ' clutch and easing the gear lever forward I en■deavoured to carry on by instructions. On doing so an ear-splitting grate assailed my ears! The creature, whining in agony, lurched forward in a terrific bound, propelling me forcibly into a somewhat insecure position — ’twixt earth and sky. Arriving with a terrifying suddenness I'eventually ‘came to earth’ where, in which safe but uncomfortable position, I fearfully eyed the tempestuous creature as it lay trembling and emitting choking sobs which slowly became inaudible as a still, deathly silence descended in sharp contrast to the thunderous claps of pent-up fury a few seconds before. Raising myself, bruised, and trembling, I cautiously approached the now silent monster — the scant incenture to mount and ride had gone. Steeling myself against •a ' possible fresh outburst of unleashed ferocity I stood the thing upright and warily guiding it to the dark interior of the marquee, lay it carefully at rest, mentally cursing the evident necessity of further instruction in the near future. - — N. L.

“ OUR WORLD ”

The following. poem was written by Gunner D. R. Keen, late of the 14th Battery, 11th Field Regiment, and is well worth printing in this issue. Guns, guns, and more guns, Blattering, exploding and dead Blood, blood and more, blood, Flowing congealed and red. Greed, murder, avarice, hate, Love for King and Nation, Souls with only death their fate, No Peace: Sheer desecration. A Maker, God, and Spirit, Life, Truth and Love, What is the matter with the world? What are we thinking of. Toys, and children smiling Youth upholds its teens. Female charms beguiling, Make the world serene. A Church to say a prayer in, A love of life that’s free — O God! Please help us to unite, 1 And let this always be. ■ I —D. R. KEEN. UP TO DATE. What is . the difference between Joshua and General MacArthur? Joshua said: “Saddle up your asses, load up your camels, we are going to the Promised Land.’’ General MacArthur said: “Sit on your asses, smoke your camels, we’re in the Promised Land.’’ '

GOOD GUESS

The two chorus girls were having tea together. ' ‘‘Do you know,” said one, ‘‘when the manager asked me my age, I 1 couldn’t for the life of me remember whether I was twenty or twenty-one.” “What did you say?” asked her friend. ‘‘Oh,” replied the other, ‘‘l split the difference and said nineteen.” Relations between Britain and FinI land seem to be flnnishcd. .

THE FIRST STEP

Two Diggers who had dined rather well entered a dance hall and inquired for the smoking-room. “Through that door and down tour steps,” said the manager. Opening the first door they came to, one stepped out and dropped down the lift shaft. ‘‘Whassha doin’, Jack?” shouted his partner as he looked into the black depths. “Lookin’ for a match,” Bill,” came the answer. ‘‘And shay, look out for that firsht step! ’