Dear Mum & Dad,

I am well. Hope you are. Tell me big brothers Doug and Phil the Army is
better than working on the farm - tell them to get into the Army quick
before the jobs are all gone.

I was a bit slow in settling down at first, because you don't get outta
bed
until 6am. I like sleeping in now, but. All you do before brekky is
make
ya bed and shine your boots and clean your uniform. No cows to milk, no
calves to feed, no feed to stack - nothing.

Men must shave, but its not so bad, coz there's hot water and a light to
see what ya doing.

Breakfast has cereal, fruit and eggs but there's no kangaroo steaks or
possum stew. You don't get fed again until noon, and by that time all
the
city boys are buggered because we've been on a 'route march' - just like
walking to the windmill in the back paddock.

This will kill Doug and Phil with laughter. I keep getting medals for
shooting - dunno why. The bullseye is as big as a bloody possum's head
and
it doesn't move and its not firing back at ya like the Johnsons did when
our bull got their cow pregnant before the Ekka. Alls ya gotta do is
make
yourself comfortable and hit the target - piece of piss. You don't even
load your own cartridges - they comes in boxes and ya don't have to
steady
yourself against the rollbar of the roo shooting truck when you reload.

Then ya gotta wrestle with the city boys and I gotta be real careful coz
they break easy - its not like fighting with Doug and Phil and Jack and
Boori and Steve all at once like we do.

Turns out I'm not a bad boxer either and it looks like I'm the best the
platoon's got, and I've only been beaten by this guy from 5RAR - he's 6
foot 8 and 14 stone and I'm 5 foot six and seven stone, but I fought to
the
end.

I can't complain about the Army - tell the boys to get in quick before
word
gets around how good it is.

Your loving daughter,

Sheree