In an Australia grappling with division and a search for identity, it’s time to rediscover Andrew Barton “Banjo” Paterson -  not merely as the poet of Waltzing Matilda and The Man from Snowy River, but as a patriot, horseman, and wartime contributor whose life speaks to the strength and unity we need today.

Known for turning the bush into verse, Paterson’s lesser-known story -  his wartime service, shaped by a childhood injury that left one arm shorter than the other -  reveals a man who overcame limitation to serve his country.

His legacy, from training horses for the Light Horse Brigades to penning poems like We’re All Australians Now, offers a blueprint for rediscovering national pride in 2025.

 A Poet’s Grit in the Boer War

Born in 1864 in rural New South Wales, Paterson grew up among the stockmen, horse breakers, and drovers who later galloped through his poems. A childhood accident left his right arm slightly shorter than his left -  a minor injury that would later keep him from combat but never from courage.....it this never dulled his saddle skills or spirit, as he tamed wild horses and led men with the same tenacity that defined his poetry

When the Second Boer War broke out in 1899, the 35-year-old lawyer and poet was determined to serve. Denied a soldier’s role, he used his connections with the Fairfax family to secure a position as a war correspondent for The Sydney Morning Herald. With £100 from Fairfax, two donated horses, and his own saddle horse, he boarded the Kent on 28 October 1899 to report on the conflict in South Africa.

Over the next nine months, Paterson covered 5,000 kilometres on horseback, wrote nineteen poems, and filed vivid dispatches from the front. He met figures like Winston Churchill and Rudyard Kipling, but his loyalty was not to Empire but to truth. His reports were unsparing in their criticism of British military blunders and their treatment of Boer civilians, particularly women and children, in concentration camps.

Disgusted by the cruelty he witnessed, Paterson withdrew to Basutoland and later Durban, before returning home to lecture publicly on British mismanagement of the war. In doing so, he risked his professional standing ..... and gained the respect of Australians who admired his courage to speak plainly.

His image on Australia’s $10 note, taken after the Boer War, reminds us of this chapter: a poet who faced the horrors of war with one good arm and a sharp pen ...... embodying that uniquely Australian blend of scepticism, decency, and courage to “call it as he saw it.”

A Horseman’s Duty in World War I

When war erupted again in 1914, Paterson was fifty years old  -  battle-hardened by experience, but still driven by duty. Rejected as a correspondent this time, he joined the first fleet to Europe aboard the Euripides as an honourary veterinarian. On that voyage, he witnessed the HMAS Sydney pursue and defeat the German raider Emden, later interviewing the captured German captain -  a remarkable scoop for a poet more often found in the saddle than the press gallery. ( more on that in a future article. ) 

After disembarking in Egypt, Paterson briefly served as an ambulance driver in France, ferrying the wounded from battlefields soaked in mud and blood. But his greatest contribution came in 1915, when he joined the 2nd Remount Unit as a lieutenant -  later promoted to captain -  training horses and mules for the Australian Light Horse.

At the desert camp of Moascar, near the Suez Canal, Paterson and his men transformed thousands of unruly animals into disciplined war mounts. His team of bushmen and roughriders prepared 50,000 horses and 10,000 mules, many drawn from wild brumbies or stock horses shipped from Australia. Wearing specially designed boots to prevent stirrup mishaps, they worked from dawn to dusk in relentless heat, teaching the animals to trust, obey, and endure.

Paterson’s leadership was tested daily. On one occasion, he successfully drove 300 mules through the chaotic streets of Cairo without a single loss; on another, he delivered 130 horses and 20 mules over 250 miles in ten days -  all in top condition. His unit’s rodeo-style demonstrations of horsemanship became local legends, drawing crowds of soldiers and civilians alike, showcasing the easy confidence and inventiveness Australians had become known for.

In 1918, his wife, Alice, joined him as a nursing aide with the Red Cross Hospital in Ismailia. Together they served until 1919. Yet for all his endurance and accomplishment, Paterson’s heart was broken by one lingering sorrow: the fate of the horses left behind. Of the 130,000 sent from Australia, only one returned home. The rest were sold to the Indian Army or shot to prevent their suffering -  a tragedy Paterson never forgot.

Through all this, he continued to write. His 1915 poem We’re All Australians Now captured a nation’s pride and heartbreak, uniting soldiers and civilians in the shared language of sacrifice. It was, and remains, a lyrical anthem of nationhood -  one born not from politics, but from shared endurance.

Why Banjo Paterson Matters in 2025

Paterson’s life -  marked by physical limitation, wartime service, and literary brilliance -  holds powerful relevance for Australia today. A century after his death, we again wrestle with questions of identity and belonging. Public debate too often divides rather than unites; our national story is sometimes treated as a relic rather than a source of pride.

Paterson bridges these divides. His poetry celebrates the bush -  not merely as scenery, but as a metaphor for the Australian spirit: rugged, self-reliant, humourous, and humane. His war service shows that patriotism need not be boastful; it can be expressed through competence, compassion, and quiet endurance.

In We’re All Australians Now, he wrote:

“The old state jealousies of yore
Are dead as Pharaoh's sow,
We're not State children any more - 
We're all Australians now!”

 

Those lines, written in the midst of world war, could just as easily be written for us today. A prophetic message to too many who seek to divide, rather than unite. His resilience, despite a shortened arm, mirrors our national instinct to overcome adversity. His criticism of British tactics showed that loyalty does not mean silence -  that love of country is made stronger, not weaker, by the courage to speak truth.

At a time when Australia faces economic uncertainty, cultural fragmentation, and generational disconnection, Paterson’s story offers an antidote to apathy. He believed that national character was forged not in parliament but in paddocks, on battlefields, and around campfires -  wherever people met adversity with humour and hope. That belief, so plainly Australian, is precisely what we risk losing.

A Call to Celebrate Banjo

If we are to recover that sense of shared identity, we should start by reviving Paterson’s voice in the places where it once rang loudest -  schools, local festivals, and public ceremonies. His poems, rich with humour, courage, and tenderness, belong not just in dusty old books but in classrooms and conversation. They remind us that the past need not divide us; it can steady us and set us back on course.

ANZAC Day, Australia Day, or bush poetry festivals could honour his service by spotlighting his lesser-known wartime roles -  perhaps through reenactments of his Remount Unit’s rodeo shows or public readings of We’re All Australians Now. Even social media .... so often a battleground of cynicism ..... could become a tool for rediscovery: imagine his words shared alongside images of the Light Horse charging through the Sinai, captioned with his timeless refrain of unity and pride.

Banjo Paterson was not just a poet. He was a patriot who turned limitation into action, war into words, and horses into heroes. In a country once proud of its plain-speaking heroes, his life reminds us that courage can be quiet, humour can be noble, and poetry can be patriotic.

Or Were? 

As Australia once again searches for its sense of self, perhaps it’s time we listen to Banjo,  not only for his verses, but for the grit, grace, and humanity that once defined us.

The question is whether those qualities still do.

In the months ahead, I hope to share more stories from our past -  not out of nostalgia, but necessity. Because if we forget who we are and where we came from, we risk becoming little more than a quarry to the world -  stripped of minerals, history, and soul. Banjo Paterson saw Australia’s character in the courage of ordinary people. If we can see it here again, we may yet find our way forward.

 My gratitude to Happy Expat for much of the source information. 

Monty

A. B. (“Banjo”) Paterson

We’re All Australians Now

An open letter to the troops, 1915

Australia takes her pen in hand
To write a line to you,
To let you fellows understand
How proud we are of you.

From shearing shed and cattle run,
From Broome to Hobson's Bay,
Each native-born Australian son
Stands straighter up today.

The man who used to "hump his drum",
On far-out Queensland runs
Is fighting side by side with some
Tasmanian farmer's sons.

The fisher-boys dropped sail and oar
To grimly stand the test,
Along that storm-swept Turkish shore,
With miners from the west.

The old state jealousies of yore
Are dead as Pharaoh's sow,
We're not State children any more —
We're all Australians now!

Our six-starred flag that used to fly
Half-shyly to the breeze,
Unknown where older nations ply
Their trade on foreign seas,

Flies out to meet the morning blue
With Vict'ry at the prow;
For that's the flag the Sydney flew,
The wide seas know it now!

The mettle that a race can show
Is proved with shot and steel,
And now we know what nations know
And feel what nations feel.

The honoured graves beneath the crest
Of Gaba Tepe hill
May hold our bravest and our best,
But we have brave men still.

With all our petty quarrels done,
Dissensions overthrown,
We have, through what you boys have done,
A history of our own.

Our old world diff'rences are dead,
Like weeds beneath the plough,
For English, Scotch, and Irish-bred,
They're all Australians now!

So now we'll toast the Third Brigade
That led Australia's van,
For never shall their glory fade
In minds Australian.

Fight on, fight on, unflinchingly,
Till right and justice reign.
Fight on, fight on, till Victory
Shall send you home again.

And with Australia's flag shall fly
A spray of wattle-bough
To symbolise our unity ⁠—
We're all Australians now.