October, 1915
Ven der Kaiser vould shtart some beeg shtunt,
All dose shwells den soon come to de front,
Und de prince, und de king
Seem to be de whole ting,
Mit old Fritz at de heel of de hunt.
But somedimes ven de Kaiser's in doubt,
Und already can't find his vay oudt;
Ven dose hard shpots he hits,
Den he say—"Mine dear Fritz,
Vot you tinks of dis peesness, old Scoudt?"
So it vas mit dose junkers so shlick,
Dey vould soon end dis var britty quick;
But, shoost after de Marne
De crawl unter de barn,
For already dey feel mighty sick.
Den der kaiser say—"Fritzie, old chap,
Let me know vot you tink of dis schrap;
Vill ve lick dose beeg shmoke,
Or go britty soon proke,
Mit de faderland viped off de map?"
Den I say—"Dat's von very hard case;
Can tree jacks beat four kings und some ace?
Ven ve hafn't de card
Ve must bluff britty hard,
Or shoost trow down our hand in disgrace.
If like checkers ve blay, don't forget
Dey got more men dan ve haf, you bet!
If ve makes some beeg schore,
Und not man off no more,
Ve may shtop mit a draw, maype yet."
Den der Kaiser say—"Tanks, Mr. Strauss,
On your back dere don't grow any moss;
I'll shoost blay some more pranks
On dose silly old Yanks"
Den he gif me von nice iron cross.
FRITZ IN THE HOSPITAL
Ven der Kaiser his var bugles blow,
Und say: "Fritz, to de front you must go,"
Den it vasn't so strange,
I vas glad for de change;
But I hope mine Katrina don't know.
Britty soon ve're de whole of de show,
Und like vater dose goot liquors flow;
Ven, mit vine und champaigne
Ve got drunk in Louvain,
Dere vas tings mine Katrina don't know.
Soon already, ve fight mit de foe,
For von year, und it seems britty slow;
If I'm killed in de trench
By dose English und French
Den perhaps mine Katrina von't know.
So dis time, ven dose hand grenades trow,
Den I tinks soon it's time for to go;
If mine back's full mit lead,
Not mine breast, nor mine head,
Dat's von ting mine Katrina don't know.
Ven dey takes me some blace down pelow,
Mit tree hundred vite peds in von row;
For dose nice English nurse
[2] I forget dat beeg curse,
But I'm glad mine Katrina don't know.
[2] Gott Strafe England!
FRITZ PHILOSOPHIZES
Since I'm held in his hospital up,
Mine poor back full mit shrapnel und lead
Ven I tink of der Kaiser und Krupp,
Dere's a ting dat von't come troo mine head.
Vot already I'm tinking aboudt,
To pelieve in mine heart I can't yet,
But de more dat I knows I find oudt
Vy dose Englishmans frightened don't get.
Ve haf guns dat vill shoot forty miles,
Dat de fort und de city desthroys;
Ve haf Zepps. of de latest new shtyles;
Ve haf millions of men und more poys;
Ve haf hundreds of unterseeboots
Dat all ships from de ocean vill drive,
Und ve kills, und ve burns, and ve shoots
Till dere von't pe no English alive.
But for none of dese tings vill dey shcare
It's deir nerve (dat's, I tink, vat they call),
Ven ve tink ve haf licked dem, I shwear
Dat dose English shoost laugh und play ball.
But ven Shermans get oudt from de trench,
Den ve crawl avay somewhere to shmoke,
Mit some schooners de beeg thirst to quench,
For already our hearts vas near proke.
Ven dose English come on mit a run,
Den deir officers lead all de vay;
But us Shermans get chained to de gun,
Vile de boss in some safe blace vill shtay,
Maype dat's vy ve gets de cold feet,
Und dose English don't scare vort a cent;
For a private vil nefer redreat
From de blace vere his leader first vent.
FRITZ WRITES TO HIS FRAU
Dear Katrina—Dis letter I write
From von hospital, somevere in France,
For I get so proke oop in de fight
Dat dis maype vill be mine last chance.
Vell, I hold von whole trench py mineself,
Mit some poys dat shoost come to de front;
Britty soon dey get laid on de shelf,
Den your Fritz have to do be beeg shtunt.
Ven I shoot all dose English and French,
Den already I tinks I vill shmoke,
Den I hunts von safe blace in de trench,
Vere de rain mit de ground doesn't soak.
Soon I vake mit a punch from a gun,
Und I hear von Canadian say:
"Come mit me, you darned shleepy old Hun,"
Den he shteal mine seegars all avay.
Den de next ting I know I am here,
For already de vorld had turned plack;
Dat Canadian certain vos queer,
For he carry me in on his back.
From mine preast so mooch hardvare got oudt
Britty soon I can shtart von shmall shtore;
If dere's any old junk mans aboudt
Dey might call at dis hospital door.
Now Katrina don't vorry some more,
Keep de grubs from de cabbage avay,
Und pe sure dat you lock oop de door,
Ven alone in de house you must shtay.
Put some flowers on leetle Karl's grave;
All de time now I'm glad he is dead;
Vot's de use to grow oop shtrong und prave,
Only shoost to get shot troo de head?
Mine truly, Fritz.
KATRINA REPLIES TO FRITZ
Mine dear Fritz: It shoost makes me feel plue
Ven I get me dat letter you write,
For already mine fears haf come true
Dat you maype get hurt in dis fight,
Vot's de use so you make de beeg splash,
Und you hold de whole trench py your self?
Dat don't put no more meat in mine hash
Und not any more pread on mine shelf.
Do you tink dat der Kaiser vill care?
If he gifs you von cheap iron cross,
Ven I lose mine own Fritz I can't shpare,
Vot vill dat do to make oop mine loss?
Britty soon all de men haf gone oudt,
Und von't maype come back any more;
Dere's shoost left yet old Hans, mit de goudt,
Und de Duffledorf poy at de shtore.
You vill now shtay von prisoner yet,
Till already de var is all done,
But perhaps dat's more safer, you pet,
Dan to shtand in de front of de gun.
Dere's shoost von ting I tell you; bevare
Of dose nurse mit de shining plack eyes,
If dey got some pink cheeks, und brown hair,
Your Katrina is double deir size.
Vot you tink, Fritz? Der Kaiser's men come,
Und de cherries all pick from de trees,
Den dey take all mine apples and plum,
Und mine carrots und cabbages seize;
De potatoes dey got mit de rest,
Und, pecause I vould raise von beeg row,
Dey shoost tell me, pull down mit mine vest
Und dey call me von noisy old frau.
Yours yet, Katrina.
FRITZ WRITES AGAIN
Dear Katrina,—Dis letter you get
So already you know how I vas;
Vell, dere's von ting dat troubles me yet,
Und I tells you de reason pecause;
Dose nurse doctors you tink vas so gay
Haf de heaves, und blind staggers und gout,
Und dey trow dose nice cabbage avay
Dat vould make me some goot saur-kraut.
Und de limburger cheese dat you sent,
Dat vas making me feel shtrong und vell,
Britty soon mit the garbage it vent,
For dose nurses dey don't like de shmell.
Ven I ask for pork sausages vonce,
Den dey say, (vot I tells you is true,)
"Don't you know, you fat-headed old dunce,
Dose vill gif you de tic-doul-our-eux."
Dey von't let me no liverwurst eat;
For dey say it ain't fit for de crows.
Ven I ask for some shmiercase so shweet,
Den dey laugh und dey turn up deir nose,
Dey shoost feed me some custards und jell
Und some broth dat I drink mit a cup,
How dey tink I vill efer get vell
If dey don't keep mine stomach filled up?
Ven dis var vill get ofer you pet!
Den some pickled pig's feet I vill buy,
Mit bologna and shnapps, maype yet,
Und some coffee to drink ven I'm dry,
Britty soon to mine bed I musht go,
So no more I can't write you shoost now;
Gif mine luf to dose beeples ve know
Und take some for yourself, mine dear frau.
Mine truly, Fritz.
KATRINA REPLIES
Mine dear Fritz,—Vot to tink I don't know,
Ven dose hospital letters I get,
But mine tears dey vill run britty shlow,
Till I hear some tings different yet,
Ven you're sick like you tries to make oudt,
Vot you vant mit some shmeircase to eat,
Und pork sausages, coffee and kraut
Und limburger und pickled pig's feet?
I shoost tink you contented might shtay,
Till de var is all ofer und done,
Mit some custards und jells like you say,
Dat is better dan facing de gun.
Ve get nefer such goot tings like dese
Here at home in de old Faderland,
For dose English shut up all de seas
Ven to shtarve us goot Shermans dey planned.
Ven de men und de poys vent avay
For to fight for de goot Faderland,
Den de vomans must vork all de day
Mit a piece of plack bread in deir hand.
Dere's no meat now, nor butter at all,
Shoost de tings ve can grow in de ground;
Und already I'm getting so shmall,
Dat mine dress vill go twice times around.
All dat cash in de bank dat ve haf,
Ven de Kaiser's men need it, dey said,
If dey takes efry cent dat ve save,
Schraps of baper dey gifs us instead.
But I fool dose chaps vonce, britty soon,
For I put all de gold in a sack,
Mit your vatch, und mine brooches und shpoon
In de garden I bury dem back.
Yours yet, Katrina.
FRITZ LEARNS ABOUT CANADA
Vot's de use for some beeples to blow,
Und to make some beeg fools mit demselves
Ven already de tings dey don't know
Vould soon fill all de books on de shelves?
Ven I'm oudt in de hospital yard,
Und go unter de tree mit de rest,
Den I shmoke, und I blay some more card
Mit von chap from de Canada Vest.
Dis here feller, his name is Von Krink,
Und his fader from Shermany go,
He vill tell me some lies I don't tink,
From de blace vere dose maple leafs grow.
Dat beeg farm of his dad's is so vide
Dey musht drive all deir horses mit shteam,
Und it take dem, to plow down de side,
Von whole veek mit a buffalo team.
Und to cross dat beeg country, he say,
Dey go five or six days on de train;
Dey could shtick in von corner avay,
De whole Faderland, England und Spain.
Dey haf rivers more beeg as de Rhine,
Und some forests as vide as de sea,
Und dose veat fields, mit homesteads so fine,
Dey vill gif von for notting to me.
Vot's de use den ve fight, I don't know,
For von shmall shtrip of land py de sea,
For if dis feller tells me vot's so,
Den already beeg fools ve must pe.
Ven dis var vill get ofer, you bet,
So dat me und Katrina can go,
I vill get me von farm maype yet,
From de blace vere dose maple leafs grow.
FRITZ CAN'T FURSHTAY
Seems like someting go wrong mit mine head
Since de day ven I make de beeg fight,
Und mine heart gets so heafy like lead
Ven I dries some more bieces to write.
Dot is vy I so seldom don't wrote
'Bout some tings dat vill happen to me
Since dose shells, vot you call? get mine goat,
Und I am only von left out of tree.
Dot Canadian feller, Von Krink,
Ven I say, "nix furshtay" to his talk,
He shoost tells me to take von more tink,
Or already he'll knock off mine plock.
Ven I tells him de tings dat he say
I can't find dem in mine leetle book,
Den he varn me to not get too gay
Britty soon or he'll gif me de hook.
Den he say dat de Kaiser's a chump,
Und his vorks dey vos shlipping a cog,
Und his crown vill get trowed in de dump,
For he put de whole vorld on de hog;
Dot us Shermans vos all off our base
Und already our goose vos cooked prown;
Britty soon ourselves home ve can chase,
Und den go avay back und sit down.
Vot he somedimes vould mean I don't know
Ven he gifs me dis foolishness talk,
If I ask him he say, "Shoost go slow,
Mine dear Fritz, ven you're oudt for a valk."
Dot is not like de English I shpoke,
Vot I learn in de books I haf read.
Den no vunder mine heart is near proke;
Und Von Krink says dere's veels in mine head.
FRITZ IS LEARNING
Vile I vait in his hospital yard
For dose holes in mine back to fill up,
Den mine brain it vould vork pritty hard,
Like von vagon dat climbs de hill up.
Vill dis var soon get done, I don't know,
So some more mine Katrina vill shmile,
Vonce we tought ve vould vin long ago
But ve're learning some tings, all de vile.
Dere seems millions of men mit de gun,
Shoost like ants shwarming oudt of de hill.
From all ofer dis vorld dey haf run
Us goot Shermans already to kill.
Ve believed dat dem French vas no goot,
Shonnie Bull ve vould shtarve in his isle,
Ve vould sink all his ships dat pring foodt,
But ve're learning some tings all de vile.
It will not pe so easy, I tink,
Shonnie Bull to put down on de floor,
For venefer his ships ve vill sink,
Pritty soon he vas puilding some more,
Dose beeg zepps, und dose unterseeboots
Dat ve make mit de latest new shtyle;
If dey don't always hit vot dey shoots,
Ve must learn some more tings all de vile.
Ven already ve dakes von shmall town,
Den ve lose him a couple of dimes,
Shoost so soon von beeg hill ve goes down,
Dere's anoder von up dat ve climbs.
Some goot Shermans vos lifing to-day,
In dose drenches for five hundred mile,
Ven dose English und French vill get gay
Den ve show dem some tings, all de vile.
FRITZ HEARS FROM THE KAISER
Yaw, de Kaiser he write me von day,
Shoost so soon he find oudt he get shtuck;
First his letters dey come mit de dray,
Now de're filling von beeg motor truck,
Soon, already, I dells him vot's drue,
Dat some tings don't look goot in dis fight,
Den der Kaiser he feel britty plue,
Und like dis vay to me he vill write.
"Mine dear Fritz,—Since Von Tirp has gone oudt,
Dere's no von around here I can trust,
So I vant you to dell me, old scoudt,
Vill it pe de vorld power, or bust?
Ven ve licked de Russ, English und French,
Den de Dago und Portugee came,
Seems de deeper ve dig in de trench
De more fellers get into de game.
Mine beeg armies dey soon melt avay,
Like von shnow pank goes down mit de sun,
Ve keep losing more men efry day,
Und dose bapers say, "notting vas done,"
Dose new zeppelin ships vas a fake,
Shoost de fraus und de kiddies dey get,
Und de unterseebootens ve make,
Like de fish dey get caught mit de net.
Soon our foes take de skin mit de fleece,
So I vant you to hear vot dey say:
If deir talk seems to listen like peace,
Den you send me de vord right avay.
Yaw, mine Fritz, you must dell me some tings,
Shoost so soon you get on to deir track,
Und de feller mine letter dat prings,
Vill already your answer dake back."
FRITZ ADVISES THE KAISER
Mine dear Kaiser,—I'm telling you straight,
Dat ve nefer can vin dis beeg fight,
Dough de Faderland armies vas great,
Dere is udders dat's greater, all right,
Shoost you make de goot beace britty soon,
Right avay, or you notting haf got;
Ven you sups mit de teufel, de spoon
Vill already, somedimes get too hot.
Shoost cut oudt dat beeg strafe dat you make,
Ven you can't mit dose Englishmans pull,
Und you say it vas all a mistake,
For you lufs your dear cousin, John Bull.
Den you cheat dose fool English some more,
Like for forty long years ve haf done:
Dey'll forget den dose treaties ve tore,
Und no more vill dey call us de Hun.
You can fix tings quite easy mit France,
Shoost you gif up de Alsace-Loraine,
Den venefer ve see de goot chance
Ve vill march in and take dem again;
Den dere's Russia and Serbia too,
Vill vant pay for de men dat ve kill;
Now I tells you de ting dat you do
You say Austria vill settle deir bill.
Dere's no trouble vill come from de Yanks,
Since ve mix dem in Mexico up;
Ven a feller get bit vonce, no tanks!
He von't fool any more mit de pup;
For de Belgians some tings must be done;
So shoost bromise de monies to pay,
Till ve get back dose blace in de sun,
Den ve vink, und ve say, "nix furshtay."
FRITZ ADMITS IGNORANCE
Dis old vorld is von uncertain blace,
Dere is so many tings ve don't know,
Ven ve shtart oudt to travel de pace,
Ve can't tell shoost how far ve vill go,
Ve don't know, from de vay a man valks,
How mooch money dat feller may get,
Und dose chaps mit de very smooth talks
May haf schemes in deir heads maype yet.
Ven some leetle birds shtand on a shtump,
Ve don't know yet de first von to fly;
Ve can't tell, from de paint on de pump,
Shoost how soon de old vell vill run dry;
Ve don't know vy de grass is so green,
Nor vy all plue roses grow red,
How de pod get ouside of de bean,
Und de cabbages get de shwelled head.
Ve don't know, ven de veather is dry,
Britty soon if ve get some more rains,
Vy dere's many a goot-looking guy
In his head dat don't haf any brains;
Vy de plack card vill alvays come thrump,
Ven a handful of red vons ve hold,
Nor how far can von leedle flea yump
Nor vy mud-turtles nefer get old.
In dose car, ven ve go for a ride,
Ve can't tell ven dere's someting vill bust,
Und ourselves ve so often haf lied,
Ve don't know any feller to trust;
Ve can't tell yet de end of dis schrap,
Ve may get, ven de fighting is done,
Some varm country, not marked on de map
Dat's more hot dan a blace in de sun.
FRITZ ON THE ENGLISH
Ven I fights mit dose Englishmans yet,
Dere vas tings vy I nefer can't see,
Und, dis time I'm certain, you bet!
Either dey must pe crazy or me.
Dey vill bay von beeg price for a king,
But as soon as he put on his crown,
Und vould try to pe doing some ting,
Dey say,—"Go avay pack und sit down."
Ven dey get all dose blace in de sun,
Und de blaces vere grows de beeg trees,
Ven already de hard vork is done,
Den John Bull say,—"Shoost go as you blease."
If in Dublin a feller rebels,
Britty soon on a rope he vill shwing,
But go free, so mine newsbaper tells,
If in Ulster he do de same ting.
Johnnie Bull prings his pread und his meat
From de ends of de vorld far avay,
Vile de lands vere he ought to grow veat,
Dem's de blaces de pheasants will shtay,
Ven he say dat he nefer vill fight,
But vill shtick mit his vork und his blay
Dat vas lies he vas telling all right,
For he fight like de teufel to-day.
Und dose beeples dat nefer had vorked,
All dose soft-handed ladies und shwells,
Und de fellers dat always had shirked,
Haf got busy now making de shells.
If ve're brisoners, vounded or sick,
Shoost so soon ve fall into deir hand,
Den dey doctor und feed us oop shlick;
Dese are tings dat I can't understand.