Rhymes of the Rookies Part 4

Fate was the Gambler; I was a "chip,"

Death was the "stake" held in Life's grip; I am a Conscript played in Fate's hand, When the Game's over--how will I stand?

Death, will it lose, or Life, will it win, Who'll be the "winner" at the great "Cash-in"?

Ten million Conscripts to answer the Call, And at the gusts, the leaves must fall: With submarines launching torpedoes below, Which troop s.h.i.+p to atoms are they to blow?

Ghosts of disease lurking in camp, Spectral sickness in trenches so damp; Ten million bullets ripping the air, Which Conscript to be stricken, and when and where?

Ten million shrapnel shrieking o'er head, Which Conscript to reckon among their dead?

Thousands of wounds, a-gaping and wide, Who will recover, and who will have died?

Millions of mothers so anxious at home, Who will wear crepe for loved ones, alone?

Millions of sweethearts who'll weep o'er the "lists,"

Which lovers the lips ne'er more to be kissed?

All is a Gamble--this War-Game of Chance-- The life of a Conscript over in France.

The "Roulette of Life" is spinning so fast, The "red ball of Death" must drop in at last; Which numbers will win, which numbers will lose, The "odds" or the "evens," the "reds" or the "blues"?

Yet Hope is the "Banker" and He will repay The chances that Conscripts must take in the fray; And Fate's a Good sport, when "dealing the cards,"

He'll give "Fifty-fifty" to Conscript for odds.

THE SLACKER

Why don't he volunteer to serve In Uncle Sammy's grand reserve?

He knows quite well his country's call; Has no regard for this, at all.

He never thinks to do his part, Because he has a Slacker's heart.

He walks along the street quite spry-- To feign indifference he must try, When suddenly he takes affright, It's just a picture (what a sight) Of Uncle Sam with pointing finger.

Take it from me! He doesn't linger.

"Why don't you do it? do it quick!"

The Slacker's skull is very thick.

It never penetrates the gray, What Uncle Sammy, has to say.

"I want you NOW!" Oh, what a Mutt.

The words fall on a brainless nut.

He lied on registration day-- Conscription's law he'll not obey.

He seeks the nuptial vows to take, Or any other useless fake.

Whatever else, he'll never fight.

He has the Slacker's ear-marks right.

Oh, what a useless, shameless pest, A blot on human kind at best.

His feelings are for SELF alone.

He would not give a dog the bone.

Behold his att.i.tude--his pose.

The Slacker's ring is in his nose.

For country's call--for country's sake-- For Liberty he will not stake His bit, nor will he ever be But half a man. Not he--not he.

His formula contains no sand-- It's plain, he is the Slacker "Brand."

A sneak--a snake--a cur--a blasted Dirty rotten scourge, dodgasted Coward, thief, and all the rest-- Can't spell the name that suits the best.

There's just one place for such as he-- Not on the earth--eternity.

PREPAREDNESS

I never had no warlike mind, I b'long to the plowin' peaceful kind Thet stays at home and works along, Sun to sun--I'm good and strong--- But, neighbor, let me speak my mind: When my country sez to back her, Sez I back: "Here ain't no slacker,"

So walks up thar and signs the roll, Come June the first, thirty-one year ole, Now Uncle Sammy can call Bill Jones Jest any ole time they say, 'Cause yisterday I gits insured, And jined the church today.

I hates to leave the old home-folks, They hates to see me go, But I'd rather tote a rifle, Than be shoulderin' a hoe.

When Uncle Sammy's needin' men-- And needin' 'em so much, I 'lows how he can call on Bill, To help 'im lick them Dutch.

For preacher sez: "G.o.d will protect Me out thar," so, then, by Heck!

I am all O.K.

'Cause yisterday I gits insured, And jined the church today.

The paper 'lows the fightin's bad, As awful as can be-- Guns a-roarin'--blood a-flowin'-- And boats belo' thet sea.

But I'm ready--and I ain't a-feered To die--if they do git me.

'Cause I ain't no skunking slacker, If I am a "Georgia cracker,"

And if I don't come home no more, The wolf won't come to my house door, I am goin' when they say, 'Cause yisterday I gits insured, And jined the church today.

"BEANS"

A dog there lived in many towns, And he has wondrous wiles; He travels in the Philippines, And visits many isles.

"Ubiquitous" should be his name, He's seen so many scenes, But all his soldier friends prefer To call him simply: "Beans"!

As a proper, first cla.s.s pa.s.senger, Is "Beans" name on s.h.i.+p's log; You'd think his name was pedigreed-- The way he "puts on dog"!

Yet he is not a full blood pup, But just a "yellow cur": A "Nervy-Natty Gentleman"-- With all his fuzzy fur.

He chows awhile at Grande Isle; And there he'll make a stay, Until he tires of their mess; Then promptly sails away.

He'll take a boat down Subic Bay, To far Olongapo, And when things get monotonous, Then "Beans" is prompt-to-go!

He goes o'er to Corregidor, And visits "C. A. C."

And if he don't like visiting-- He merely sails the sea!

He visits Fort McKinley, And Cavite, too; Now, where Beans has not been, forsooth, I wish I only knew.

I know that all the sailors, And all the soldier men Do call him "Beans," and love him For he is their dandy friend.

He wags his tail in greeting, And barks at friends with joy; But when his s.h.i.+p's a-sailing, For Beans, it's s.h.i.+p-A-hoy!

So here's to "Beans" old "Sea-dog,"

Who loves so well to roam; I wish he'd try to settle down And make our place his home.

ADVICE

Better start in soldiering and mind your P's and Q's, Cut out going absent and ease up on the booze, Don't kick because, you're on fatigue, but mind what you are about, For the Summary Court will get you if you don't watch out.