On the parade,
Soft and low,
Rookie hiccoughed,
"Forward, Ho!"
Another youngster
Feeling smart,
Tried to shout,
"Forward, Hart!"
One requested,
"Forward, How!"
From somewhere else,
There came a "Yow!"
* * * * * *
Perhaps a mile or so away
We heard not "Harp!" nor "Harch!"
But stalwart Major Koehler's voice
Thunder, "Forward, March!"
CHANT OF A DERELICT
Sad is my song, mates, for I've got the axe,
I've got to go, I've got to go;
Farewell to Plattsburg and life in the shacks,
Home I must go, I must go.
Told not to let such a small matter grieve me,
Sent to the parents who hate to receive me,
Hearing my story, they'll never believe me,
I've got to go, got to go.
No more to sleep in a two-story bunk,
Back I must go, I must go;
No more to sag 'neath a pack full of junk,
Home I must go, I must go.
Leaving the books I could never have learned,
Buying a straw hat—the old one was burned—
Even the wrist watch must now be interned,
Back I must go, I must go.
Here is the moral of this plaintive cough,
Sung as I go, moaned as I go;
Here is the reason for my sounding off,
Now as I go, as I go:
Comrades in arms, oh! be prompt at formations,
Neat in your dress, and observe regulations,
Else, you, like me, will rejoin your relations,
Home you must go, you must go.
MESS? YES!!