Ces carries his Boyes Anti- tank Rifle to the front from Broadmeadows. This endurance feat alone (arriving in Singapore just before the fall) demonstrates the close affinity shared by the soldiery for their ” Boyes”. A practice resolutely carried by members of the priesthood to their younger charges to this day.
Dear reader, another fragment of humanity from Geoff Boyes.
It is with some disappointment that we learn that Geoff is not related in any shape, manner or form to the progenitor of the eponymously named ‘Anti-Tank Rifle’. If that were the case we would include an episode from Ces’s memoirs of how he stood alone with his Boyes anti-tank rifle at Singapore in early forty two and though promised protection and offensive punch spent the next three years augmenting the Japanese public transport system in Thailand. But like the aforementioned weapon, Geoff has once again, punched a whole through that shabby mask of persona and found the humanity within. This piece, clearly written for his friend who allegedly holds a forty percent shareholding in Crown, suggests that in the end all the money in the word could not save him from the friends he chose, (Andrew and Eddy) and the decisions he made whilst under the thrall of money as an end itself.
Imprisoned by the forces he unleashed. Faustian or Fustian, we’re all flawed in the end. Its just that some are more flawed than others….
Being Sunday, excuse the editors for a bit of sermonising. Take it away Geoff, and think of James imprisoned on his luxury yacht , fronting the casino enquiry , and without a friend in the world…
To James © Geoff Boyes
“PRISONER”, Photogravure offset process print by Kit (“the Cat”) Boyser, Boggo Road Jail, Brisbane 2020.
And no, I can’t say I’m at all surprised,
At a prison cell you now call home
You’ve run long enough,
From the wrongs you have done
Hidden, from the hatred you’ve shown.
I suppose you could say, that I wasn’t always there for you,
Yet I’ve given more than anyone could
Your eyes were but blinded,
Your mind shut off tight
“Hubris,-before the fall”. Mezzotint on Silver-Gelatinous Card. By Eustace, Hildegarde, Be Boyeth. Bloomsbury c. 1928. ( the estate of the late Whanfried Von Boyes, Bayreuth).
Do you now see, I helped where I could?
Too blind to see, with your anger filled eyes,
You let all the world take your blame
From all those who cared,
You took more than gold
Any virtue, engulfed in the flame.
For many have tried, and many have failed
To help find a way to your heart
But destructive intent
Was the closest to you
Unlearnt lessons and unkindness, your start.
To James © Geoff Boyes
So now you’re face to face with reality,
The consequences, at last must be paid
For there’s no one to care,
In an eight by ten cell
No joy; just a bed to be made.
“The Unpaid Bill”, watercolour on hogs-hide. By St Godfrey De- Boyes c.1783 RWAI, R.A, R Soc.
Will you lie in your bed now; the one that’s all tattered and torn
Leave behind any love that you shared?
Or face up to your demons?
Walk out, head held high?
And realise, after all, that we cared.