He went down fighting,

Tasmanian Devil still sighting,

His Oerlikon gun skyward blazing,

All hell in hell-raising.

 

HMAS Armidale evasive,

Bridge captain persuasive,

Manoeuvring this way, then that,

Avoiding the Japanese air attack.

 

He went down fighting,

Dropped bombs dynamiting,

The ocean whipped in fury,

Teddy, keen, but weary.

 

HMAS Armidale listed,

Portside metals twisted,

Nine bombers, four fighters,

The Timor Sea igniters.

 

He went down fighting,

Fat chance of righting,

Firm fingers on the triggers,

Despatching these Jap jiggers.

 

HMAS Armidale frantic,

Torpedo focus, pedantic,

Ordered to abandon ship,

Beware the ocean-going Bunyip.

 

He went down fighting,

No hope of alighting,

His mates were being strafed,

He had to try to keep them safe.

 

HMAS Armidale would soon sink,

Time to react, no time to think,

All hands overboard to the water,

Zero’s zeroing in for the slaughter.

 

He went down fighting,

Teddy’s history rewriting,

Launching rafts for the rest,

Shot in the back, and once in the chest.

 

HMAS Armidale rapidly sunk,

But Teddy, full of Aussie spunk,

Wanted to give his crew their chance,

No time to give death a second glance.

 

He went down fighting,

His Oerlikon gun sighting,

Mortally wounded but firmly strapped,

He’d give those Nips hot metal slaps.

 

Two-thirds of the crew lost that day,

But each, when asked, would tearfully say,

That it would have been so many more,

If Teddy had not tried to even the score.

 

He went down fighting,

His twenty-millimetre canon, uniting

A Japanese bomber with the waves,

Davy Jones's locker for their grave.

 

He saved mates in the water that day,

His actions kept murderous fighters at bay,

Those who witnessed looked on in wonder,

Teddy, still shooting, as the ship dragged him under.

 

Teddy Sheean’s memory continued fighting,

Seventy-eight years later, his heroics inviting

A posthumous award of the first-ever V.C.

For a rating of the Royal Australian Navy.