THERE’S ABOUT TWO MILLION FELLOWS—
There’s about two million fellows from the North, South, East and West
Who scurried up the gang plank of a ship;
They have felt the guy ropes paying and the troopship gently swaying
As it started on its journey from the country of the blest.
They have washed in hard salt water, bucked the Army transport grub,
Had a hitch of crow’s nest duty on the way;
Strained their eyes mistaking white caps for a humpback Prussian sub
Just at twilight when “the danger’s great, they say.”
When their ship had lost the convoy they were worried just a bit,
And rather thought the skipper should be canned;
And the sigh of heartfelt feeling almost set the boat to reeling
When each of those two million sighted land.
There’s about two million fellows that have landed here in France,
They’re scattered God and G.H.Q. know where;
By the cranes where steamers anchor, schooner, tramp, or greasy tanker,
There’s an O.D. outfit waiting just to make the cargo dance.
They are chopping in the forest, double-timing on the roads,
Putting two-ways where a single went before;
In the cabs of sweating engines, pushing, pulling double loads
When the R.T.O.’s in frenzied tones implore.
For it’s duty, solid duty with the hustling men behind,
From the P. of E.’s on up to No Man’s Land;
And there’s never chance of shirking when the boys up front are working—
Night and day must go the answer to the front line’s stern demand.
There’s about two million fellows and there’s some of them who lie
Where eighty-eights and G.I.’s gently drop;
Where the trucks and trains are jamming and the colonel he is damning
Half the earth and in particular the Service of Supply.
They have had a stretch of trenches, beat the Prussian at his best,
Seen their buddies fall like heroes right beside;
But—there’s nigh two million fellows from the country of the blest
Who know the cause for which their comrades died,
Who have crossed the sluggish shallows where their little life streams ran
And broadened just a trifle, you will find;
And their vision’s cleaner, clearer and they hold just that much dearer
The great and glorious land they left behind!
Albert J. Cook,
Sgt., Hq. Detch.,—Army Corps.
