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There's death all around me, there's death in the air,
I can smell it and feel it - and I know now the fear.

The road could be mined, or an ambush await,
It may be the end - our appointment with fate.

The escorts have left us, we're now on our own,
I'm as frightened as hell - and we're all so alone.

Our armour is moving, we're leaving the town,
Rhodesians are waving, yelling - "Keep your heads down!"

I look at the Gunner, his face is all drawn,
His machine gun is loaded - and the safety catch on.

We drive through the war zone, on dirt roads blood red,
Past African Kraals - with children unfed.

Expecting a tank mine, or bullet to tell,
Or a Russian made rocket - to take us to hell.

At Assembly "Lima", the site of an old Kraal,
We finally halt - and put our backs to the wall.

Raise the stars of our Nation, raise the Brit's Union Jack,
Put the dread right behind us - for there's no turning back.

Not there for the fighting, not there for the fall,
We are the friend of no-one - and the enemy of all.
...We are the Peacekeepers.

By Mike Subritzky
NZATMC Lima 1979