The Boilermaker

The boilermaker toiling in the world of iron and steel,

Provides the main essentials of the capitalistic meals.

His boilers are the ovens where the profits quickly bake,

His shipping brings the puddings that the other workers make.

His trains and bridges help to spread the golden meal around,

While the diners eat like gluttons, gold hardly makes a sound.

When markets have a surplus he must build the tank and gun,

Until war creates a shortage and economic fun.

The boilermakers efforts bring the country real wealth,

But his working days are numbered by afflictions to his health.

Though the public in their ignorance, may stand aloof and sneer,

When he says I beg your pardon with a hand cupped to his ear.

There's many plates to rivet, and many seems to caulk.

Have they seen him sweating freely when a "rattler" starts to talk?

Or listen to the banging, and the dusty, noisy clamor,

When the air is set aringing as he swings a flogging hammer!

Accidents are frequent - he may lose a limb or eye,

When heavy jobs are handled, or even when metal starts to fly.

Oxy-cutting and arc welding leave some ugly scars behind,

Fumes cause stomach ulcers, and the glare sent him blind.

Strains and ruptures are as common as pebbles on the shore-

Behold! A decorated soldier from the great industrial war.

When the money systems falters, starts to crumble and decay,

He will win another medal called unemployment pay!

This poem was written in about 1950 by former Orange Grove resident Ron Heffernan, who worked at Cockatoo Island, Garden Island, and for NSW Railways.

Keith Whitfield Woy Woy