Melbourne Cup

I noticed an item on the news last night about a horse called Septimus running in today’s Melbourne Cup. That’ll do me I thought, Septimus, latin for seven, could reflect my Vietnam alma mater (7RAR) and I recalled, in a painful flashback, the first army mascot I met was a Shetland Pony called Septimus at 1 RAR at Holsworthy. The painful flashback refers to a moment in my youth when as a very young soldier I was blissfully sleeping off the effects of a night at the Railway Hotel, Liverpool, when pain in my right foot permeated though the fog. Septimus had got out of his coral, wandered though the lines and settled on investigating the hut I was sleeping in. He had a nasty habit of doing this (so I was told) and latching onto any unclad foot poking out from under the blankets. He got me and from then on we had a stand off type of relationship. Septimus had cause to go about inflicting pain on diggers, I might add, as we gave him some. He lived in a coral and paddock situated between the lines and the canteen in an area equal to that used to accommodate 1400 soldiers, and many a drunk soldier would take it upon himself to get some use out of the useless critter and ride him. Septimus was less than happy about being kicked in the guts and mounted at 2230hrs while a mob of drunken diggers, acting like at a rodeo, wooped it up and competed to see who could last the seven seconds. I don’t think any did but I do recall being on guard and having to drive a guy to hospital with a broken leg. Pig trotting bastard, he said. Wiped me off on the fence! When I went to the TAB to place my annual patriotic contribution to alleviate the poverty of the racing industry I was disappointed to see Septimus was favourite. Never was when I first met him, I thought, but I still had $5.00 each way and on the spot decided to back C’est La Guerre for the same money just in case Septimus can still inflict pain. What else would an old soldier do? On such science do I part with my money. My wife took half the field for a dollar each way and I just dread tonight – she may well bring home more money than me. She usually does. Update: She did this time too. She had Viewed for a dollar each way and I had C’est La Guerre for $5.00. $47.00 to her and $40.00 to me. The last of the great punters, the pair of us.