Jazz Garters.

This is one of my favourites, Dad wrote this one he thought in 1947, straight after WW 2,

The returning “diggers” were able to take up “Soldier Settlement Blocks” if they chose to,

These were usually about 100 acre blocks of land, they had to build a home and carry out certain improvements over a five year period to qualify.

Huge areas were converted to these “Blocks” over a period of 10/15 years.

Jazz Garters.

We all thought old Bill must be crazy

The day that he first brought her down,

The wrong kind of wife for a digger.

That frail looking girl from the town.

High heels, silk stockings and shingled

She wasn’t what we called a sport,

So instead of young Mrs. Delhunty

We called her Jazz Garters for short.

We thought she was too fond of pictures

And we reckoned old Bill was a fool

When they’d drive off at night in the sulky

To a concert or dance at the school.

She’d make him tog up in the evening

White shoes and a collar and tie

But what beat us, he always seemed happy

With a grin for the troops passing by.

But one day he was a little despondent

He was changing a shear on the plough

And he swore at the horse as he stumbled

That life on the farm was a cow.

The dust he said always is rising

And clings to your legs till they’re red

But he smiled as he glanced at the humpy

And she won’t let me take it to bed.

Bill was ill with his wound in the winter

He’d been hit with a fragment of shell

In the spring it was worse, so the doctor

Sent him off to the coast for a spell.

We were sorry for little Jazz Garters

We’d begun to get used to her ways

She mothered old Bill on the journey

And was back in a couple of days.

Then came the greatest of wonders

The hardened old troops got a shock

For dust flew where weeds covered the vineyard

And Jazz Garters was plowing the block.

Wouldn’t have any assistance

Said she’d manage alright on her own

She’d never made friends with the women

Day and night she was ever alone.

Ere Bill came home she’d gathered the harvest

Full plenty and rich was the yield

Smooth skinned were the cattle and horses

And clean were the vineyard and field.

Bill, he came back fitter than ever

And contented he soon settled down

And Jazz Garters went off for a visit

For a fortnight or less to the town.

And as Bill brought her home in the twilight

‘Twas a sight that would gladden ones heart

In her arms was a dainty white bundle

And a pram in the back of the cart.

Mervyn Holt 1911 - 2002