THE H.Q. TOUCH.
Command Headquarters (who, of course,
Ride us as Cockneys ride a horse—
I mean, without considering
The animal; the ride's the thing)
On Army Form—I cannot think
Precisely which; the form was pink—
Instructed Captain So-and-so,
With certain other ranks, to go
And at a given hour report,
With rifles, such-and-such a sort,
So many rounds of S.A.A.
Per man, and so much oats and hay
Per horse (as specified and charged
On War Establishments, enlarged,
Revised and issued as amended);
And here the said instruction ended,
"Signed, Eustace Blank, G.S.O.3,
For D.A.Q.A.M.A.G."
The reason why the form was thus
Truncated was—alas for us!—
That Major Blank, a hasty man,
Neglected his accustomed plan
And failed, in short, to P.T.O.,
So never told us where to go.
We drafted a polite reply:—
"Your such a number, Fourth July;
Instructions touching destination
Requested, please, for information."
And Captain So-and-So and men
Donned and inspected kits.
And then
Command Headquarters went and wired:
"The draft in question not required.
When any draft is wanted you
Will hear precisely what to do;
No error ever passes through
This office. You will therefore not
In future tell US what is what;
WE know; and WE are on the spot.
The G.O.C.-in-C. is much
Displeased."
The old Headquarters' touch.