A popular song of the time, “Sing Me to Sleep,” was re-worded by a Ballarat boy who had been severely wounded in action during fighting at Gallipoli. Private Percy Bannerman sent the piece home to his sister Lily, of Soldier’s Hill, Ballarat. The writer remained, however, anonymous.
‘…Sing me to sleep where my comrades fall, Let me forget the world and all.
Damp is my dugout, cold are my feet -Nothing but bully and biscuits to eat.
Chorus:Far, far from Turkey I want to be,
Where Turks’ bullets cannot pot me;
Think of me crouching where cold worms creep,
Waiting for someone to sing me to sleep.
Sing me to sleep where bombs explode,
Where shrapnel’s killed our poor old Joe;
Over the sandbags helmets you’ll find,
Corpses in front of you, corpses behind.
Sing me to sleep in some kindly way;
I’m sick of dry biscuits each day.
All my old pals, now at their long rest,
But proud to me are they, who’ve done their best.
Far, far from star shells I want to be;
Dear old Ball’rat fain would I see.
Think of me crouching where cold worms creep.
Turks who are waiting to sing me to sleep…’