Dust Of Urazgan

I don't have the same fingering skills, so I have had to simplify the chords for my skill level. Holding off on the line works for some verse. Dust Of Uruzghan – Fred Smith In the ring they called me “Warlord”, my mother calls me Paul You can call me Private Warren when your filing your report As to how I came to be here this is what I understand In this hospital in Germany from the Dust of Uruzgan I had just turned 28, just bought a new car When I joined the first Battalion of the Big One RAR We were next up for deployment into south Afghanistan To combat the insurgence in the Dust of Uruzgan It took seven months of training just to get into the joint There were pushups and procedures there was death by power point Then the RSOI course in Ali Al Salaam But nothing can prepare you for the Dust of Uruzgan Me and Benny sat together flying into Kandahar Sucked back on our near beers in the Camp Baker Bar Then up at 0530 we were on the Herc and out Twenty flying minutes we were in to Tarin Kowt We shook hands as the boys Ripped out from MRTF one And pretty soon were out patrolling in the Afghan summer sun Walking through the green zone with a Styer in my hand Body armor chafing through the dust of Uruzgan We started up near Chora working 14 hours a day Mentoring a Kandak from the Afghan 4th brigade Down through the Baluchi into eastern Dorafshan Working under open skies in the dust of Uruzgan It’s a long way from Townsville not like any place you’ll see Suddenly you’re walking through from the 14th century Women under burkhas, tribal warlords rule a land Full of goats, and huts and jingle trucks is the Dust of Uruzgan And the Education Minister can neither read nor write And Minister for Women runs the knock shop there at night They’ve been fighting here forever over water, food and land Murdering each other in the dust of Uruzgan There’s nothing about this province that’s remotely fair or just worse than the corruption is the endless f#*%!ing dust Its as fine as talcum powder on the ground and in the air And it gets in to your eyes and it gets in to your hair And it gets in to your weapon and it gets in to your boots When bureaucrats all show up here it gets in to their suits It gets in the machinery and foils every plan Theres some quite symbolic about the dust of Uruzgan Still the people can be gracious and they’re funny and their smart And When the children look into your eyes they walk into your heart They face each day with courage and each year without a plan Beyond scratching for survival in the Dust of Uruzgan But the Taliban are ruthless keep the people terrorized With roadside bombs and hangings and leaving letters in the night And they have no useful vision for the children of this land But to keep them praying on their knees in the Dust of Uruzgan It was a quiet Saturday morning when the 2 Shop made a call On a compound of interest to the east of COP Mashal We had some information they were building IED’s So we cordoned and we searched it in accord with SOPs I was on the west flank picket, propped there with Ben there to keep a watchful eye out while the other blokes went in We looked for signs of danger from the TTPs we’d learned But the Nationals were moving back and forth without concern We’d been standing still for hours when I took a quick step back Kicked a small AP mine, and everything went black Woke up on a gurney flat out on my back had to ask them seven times just to get the facts That I lived to tell the story through a simple twist of fate The main charge lay ten feet away from the pressure plate You see the mine was linked by det chord to a big charge laid by hand Hidden there under Benny by the Dust of Uruzgan I was a Queensland Champ Thai Boxer now I look south of my knee And all I see is bed sheets were my right foot used to be Benny’s dead and buried underneath Australian sand But his spirits out their wandering through the Dust, the Dust of Uruzgan Now I’m going back to Townsville it’s the city of my birth Some go back to Ballarat and some go back to Perth I’ll be living with my mother who’s still trying to understand Why we’re spending blood and treasure in the Dust, the dust of Uruzgan