Am I a spy in the land of the living, that I should deliver men to Death? Brother, the password and the plans of our city are safe with me; never through me Shall you be overcome. - Edna St Vincent Millay Conscientious Objector
[PShift Broadcast (4ZZZ fm 102.1) on 24 April 2015, Andy presents a show about war and resistance to it. Listen to program at http://ondemand.4zzzfm.org.au/paradigm-shift%5D
With the ANZAC celebrations in full flight 100 years after Australians invaded Turkey, Andy looks to the point of war. In an interview with historian, David Stephens, from Honest History website they discuss the mythology and commercialisation of ANZAC. David Stevens compares the importance of Gallipoli with that of the frontier wars, the roles played by women and trade unions in our history. Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD). Musgrave park – Camp Dundali.
Andy interviews Wayne Wharton about Camp Dundalli at Musgrave Park from Friday 24 April till 25 April 2015. Remembering the Frontier Wars – about invading another people’s country. Australian government spending $300M celebrating one day. Wayne Wharton argues that there should be monument to first nations people. Everyone welcome. Campfires. and going to Anzac ceremony at 4.30 am.
Listen to program @ http://ondemand.4zzzfm.org.au/paradigm-shift
Mary Rattenbury – Peace speaks to our sad old world
Andrew Kennedy – Murder or suicide
RedGum – I was only 19 (by John Schuman)
The Pogues – The band played waltzing matilda
Utah Phillips – The trooper’s lament
Edna St Vincent Millay – Conscientious objector – see poem below.
Warumpi Band – Secret war
I shall die, but
that is all that I shall do for Death.
I hear him leading his horse out of the stall;
I hear the clatter on the barn-floor.
He is in haste; he has business in Cuba,
business in the Balkans, many calls to make this morning.
But I will not hold the bridle
while he clinches the girth.
And he may mount by himself:
I will not give him a leg up.
Though he flick my shoulders with his whip,
I will not tell him which way the fox ran.
With his hoof on my breast, I will not tell him where
the black boy hides in the swamp.
I shall die, but that is all that I shall do for Death;
I am not on his pay-roll.
I will not tell him the whereabout of my friends
nor of my enemies either.
Though he promise me much,
I will not map him the route to any man’s door.
Am I a spy in the land of the living,
that I should deliver men to Death?
Brother, the password and the plans of our city
are safe with me; never through me Shall you be overcome.