For Australians who have served their nation, wearing its many uniforms and contributing to the security and longevity of this country we call home, the words “Cobber Digger Mate” are rich with meaning. These words embody the spirit of camaraderie, resonating deeply within us, evoking our shared history and identity. While others more knowledgeable might elaborate on their significance, they evoke emotions that define who we are, where we come from, and the environments that have shaped us.
In our vast country, it matters little who you are or your origins. The phrase “Cobber Digger Mate” reverberates from rugged coastlines to the peaks of our mountains. Whether you’re traversing the Simpson Desert, the expansive Nullarbor Plain, or the lush Daintree Forest, these words find their place in mines and towns from Wagga Wagga to Darwin, and even in the icy realms of Antarctica. You don’t need to have worn a uniform to grasp the essence of “Cobber Digger Mate.”
This reflection isn’t an anti-American sentiment but a questioning of how “Buddy” slipped into our vocabulary. Though I lack formal degrees in psychology or linguistics, my understanding is rooted in the experiences of this vast land. To be called a “Cobber Digger Mate” is the highest compliment, transcending physical appearance or background. It is about who you are now and whether you embody the spirit of a true mate.
Years ago, I penned a poem about “Cobber Digger Mate,” now lost, yet the emotions it captured—love, loyalty, friendship, and unwavering support—remain vivid. These words transcend superficial differences, focusing on the values and character that define us. This glimpse into my world reveals the richness of having “Cobber Digger Mates.” As a wise friend once observed, I choose my friends, and this choice has enriched my life with deep and lasting relationships. This article aims to convey the significance of these friendships, especially for those unfamiliar with Australian culture.
To my other “Cobber Digger Mates,” your stories will weave into future narratives, celebrating our shared adventures and fearless spirit. Blokes like Maurice Barwick, Peter “Bluey” Roberts, Warrie George Mansford, Barry French, Barry Tolley, Wayne Whitrod, Peter McLennan, Doug Luik, Bob Bak, Dennis Dyce, Don Norman, Leon Tsongas, Nick Bantounas, Emanuel Vardakis, Jock Bryson, Mick Driscoll, Christine Ethel, Ron Lunt, Terry Styles, Harold Eather, Bob Gladwin, Michael Kroger, Bonnie Wasiu, Percy Meredith, Bob Peoples, Burt Franks, Mick Olsen, Graham Tucker, Sid Gleeson, Noel Greaves, Barry Fitton, Mark Stephens, Mick Hardless, Andy Pring, John Arena, Ron Lovelock, and so many, many others who all deserve a mention. Perhaps while enjoying a quiet beer under the olive trees in Pellana Lakonia, Greece, I’ll have the opportunity to reminisce and write about them.
Authors note: The original article was penned January 18, 2017, updated April 19, 2022 and redrafted 27 July 2025.
Peter Adamis