The Soldier

My father, Gerhardus Hermanus du Toit, was one of life’s great enigmas. He came from an Afrikaans upbringing yet married an English speaking woman, spoke only English himself and considered the “English” orientated United Party his lifelong political home. During World War Two, he was working on the Langlaagte Deep Mine as a shaft timber man and because mining and miners were considered “essential “to the war effort,he was not allowed to “signup” for active duty.

So strongly did he believe that he had an obligation to do his bit that his simple solution was to quit the mine job and signup anyway leaving my mother to do the best she could on the meagre army pay. Joining the army simultaneously gave the finger to his Afrikaans relatives since the majority of Afrikaners openly or secretly supported Germany. Manie, as he was known, spent three years in the Signal Corps seeing action first in Egypt and later in Italy. He returned home physically unscathed but like so many returning soldiers the scars were on his psyche.

The Soldier

Come let me wash your face son

We are going to meet your Dad

He’s coming home from up North son

And he’ll leave us no more, are you glad?

The troop train’s due in at eleven son

Three years last week he’s been gone

But today he’ll be at Park Station son

And he’ll wonder at how big you’ve grown

Just look at the flags on the streets son

We are flying the proud Union Jack

Johannesburg is happy today son

For at last her men have come back

Hold tight to my hand on the platform son

Or you’ll surely get lost in this throng

Hear Johannesburg lifting her voice son

To welcome her men with a song

Don’t fret, I’m not really crying son

For tears can mean both joy and pain

And my heart’s bubbling over today son

For your Dad will be with us again

Some day when you have grown up son

You’ll know why I’m no longer afraid

And why there are faces missing son

And the terrible price that was paid

But for now be happy and smile son

There’s nothing can mar our joy

We’ll pick up the threads of our life son

Your Dad your Mom and their boy

Look! There’s your Dad at a window son

Now wave, wave with both hands

There look, he’s seen us, he’s waving

At last, back from far distant lands

There’s hugging and kissing and crying

No more will Mother be sad

For a man is back with his family

Our Soldier, our Hero, my Dad