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Rookie Rhymes, By The Men Of The 1st And 2nd Provisional Training Regiments, Plattsburg, New York Part 8

Rookie Rhymes, By The Men Of The 1st And 2nd Provisional Training Regiments, Plattsburg, New York - LightNovelsOnl.com

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RUBAIYAT OF A PLATTSBURG CANDIDATE

Awake! 'tis morning, though it should not be-- Come, can the yawns, it's speed they want to see-- And stagger forth upon a hostile world, In flannel s.h.i.+rt and cotton pants O. D.

Before the phantoms of the night were done, Methought I idled somewhere in the sun, Debating whether beauty to pursue, Or touch a bell, and cultivate a bun.

And lovely maids in garments pale did seem To s.h.i.+mmer round me in continuous stream, Each with a gla.s.s of something in her hand, And then I turned--and lo! it was a dream!

And ere the c.o.c.k crew he that stood before The barracks, shouted "Half a minute more!



Belts, bayonets, and pieces--on the jump-- And signal-flags and alidades," O Lor'!

I sometimes think that never battles din Were so unwelcome as the words "Fall in!"

Nor any victory could taste so sweet As French vermouth with ice and Gordon gin.

Yesterday's problem 'twixt the Red and Blue Involved our journey down the Road Peru; The day before we took the Peru Road-- I'll bet a hat we're there to-morrow, too.

Myself when fresh and full of zeal and s.p.u.n.k, Hung on the words whence wisdom should be drunk; But this was all the harvest that I reaped-- To say "as fast as possible" is punk.

Platoon commanders, captains by the score, Each takes his turn--and then is seen no more; But no one ever thinks of him again One half so kindly as they thought before.

To-day's commander, with commands profuse, To-morrow to the rear rank will reduce.

Think, and you know not what he meant to say-- He knows not neither, so--ah, what's the use?

Waste not your hour to criticize or blame, You would have done it worse, or just the same.

Better to pack your troubles with your kit, To keep your s.h.i.+rt on, and to play the game.

Some for the shriek of shot and sh.e.l.l, and some Sigh for the bottle of New England rum.

Oh, face the facts, and let the fiction go-- I'll bet "_la vie des tranchees_" will be b.u.m.

One moment's rest, then back into the mill With b.u.t.t and point to lacerate and kill.

I often wonder what the Germans teach One half so cultured as our "Bay'net Drill."

For war is h.e.l.l, and Plattsburg not a jest, And yet, by gravy, we will do our best, Till submarine and Kaiser are forgot, Or Angel Gabriel hollers out, "At rest!"

DREAMS

Says Captain Peek to Company Two, "Let's have an exam to-day; "So get your rifles and bayonet, boys, "And fall in right away.

"Line up whenever you're ready to go; "At route step do squads right: "Light up your pipes, roll up your sleeves, "We'll try to make this light."

With joyful faces they march to parade, Fall out and rest on the gra.s.s.

"Will someone please perform right face?

"We'll let slight errors pa.s.s."

Then Captain Peek shuts up that book "I won't give one black mark.

"Officers, beat it; get the hook!

"I'll drill you right till dark.

"You seem to know the drill all right; "Don't bother about those maps; "Put on your 'civies' as fast as you can, "And don't come back for taps."

'Twill be thus perhaps in a happier land, When they've run that American drive, Where we drill in white all armed with harps; But not while our Cap's alive.

A 2nd REGIMENT "WHO'S WHO"

Major Collins is careful of His regiment's health.

Lemonade and other things, Taken on march, Have been known to cause Soldiers to die, and pie?

Perish the suggestion! 'Tis Safe to bet the major Was not born in New England.

If in a deep wood or desert vast One would never be lost With Captain Barnes. He knows How to orient the landscape By sun or star.

Lieutenant Meyer is tall, He holds his hat on By a strap Under his chin.

A cyclone couldn't blow it off.

Captain Latrobe came on From Texas way, "Sif bofe" his saddle And himself. He might as well Have saved the freight on the saddle, For he has no horse to ride on.

He leads his steedless troop On charger invisible.

Arnold, Major now, fares better.

His horse is real And has white feet.

Do not talk to his Command while it is marching, Nor count for the men, or The winning smile will Turn into a volcano, And you will be reduced to A shapeless ma.s.s. Beware!

Carr's horse is black, And a beauty, too, But neighs out loud; hence Never should be used to patrol.

The enemy would listen, and Know you were near.

The straightest man On horseback is, Doubtless, Wainwright; And he doesn't lean backward to do it, either.

Matthews has a deep voice; No ear trumpet is needed to hear his commands.

He believes in exercise.

His men should be able to Throw Samson or Sandow, If they are not dead By August Eleventh.

Waldron knows how to patrol-- At least he wrote a book For thirty cents.

He next should write a book on how To spot a periscope when we cross the sea.

If we don't know that, we'll never Spot anything else But bubbles on the ocean's face.

Capt. Goodwyn just came up From Panama, and brought Chivalry with him.

It's as hot here as there, But he is showing us how To make it hotter For certain people To the eastward.

There is a fat Q.M., Whose name is Unknown, but not his form.

Once seen Never forgotten; He must have The keys to the ice-box.

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