[Sidenote: 1898] The high quality of American marksmanship was never more conclusively shown than in the battle of Santiago.
A cheer and salute for the Admiral, and here's to the
Captain bold,
And never forget the Commodore's debt when the
deeds of might are told!
They stand to the deck through the battle's wreck when the
great shells roar and screech—
And never they fear when the foe is near to practise what they
preach:
But off with your hat and three times three for Columbia's
true-blue sons,
The men below who batter the foe—the men behind the guns!
Oh, light and merry of heart are they when they swing into
port once more,
When, with more than enough of the "greenbacked stuff,"
they start for their leave-o'-shore;
And you'd think, perhaps, that the blue-bloused chaps who
loll along the street
Are a tender bit, with salt on it, for some fierce "mustache"
to eat—
Some warrior bold, with straps of gold, who dazzles and fairly
stuns
The modest worth of the sailor boys—the lads who serve the
guns.
But say not a word till the shot is heard that tells that the
fight is on,
Till the long, deep roar grows more and more from the ships
of "Yank" and "Don,"
Till over the deep the tempests sweep of fire and bursting shell,
And the very air is a mad Despair in the throes of a living hell;
Then down, deep down, in the mighty ship, unseen by the
midday suns,
You'll find the chaps who are giving the raps—the men behind
the guns!
Oh, well they know how the cyclones blow that they loose
from their cloud of death,
And they know is heard the thunder-word their fierce ten-incher
saith!
The steel decks rock with the lightning shock, and shake with
the great recoil,
And the sea grows red with the blood of the dead and reaches
for his spoil—
But not till the foe has gone below or turns his prow and runs,
Shall the voice of peace bring sweet release to the men behind
the guns!
THE REGULAR ARMY MAN
JOSEPH C. LINCOLN
[Sidenote: 1898]
He ain't no gold-laced "Belvidere,"
To sparkle in the sun;
He don't parade with gay cockade,
And posies in his gun;
He ain't no "pretty soldier boy,"
So lovely, spick and span,—
He wears a crust of tan and dust,
The Regular Army man;
The marching, parching,
Pipe-clay starching,
Regular Army man.
He ain't at home in Sunday-school,
Nor yet a social tea,
And on the day he gets his pay
He's apt to spend it free;
He ain't no temperance advocate,
He likes to fill the can,
He's kind of rough, and, maybe, tough,
The Regular Army man;
The r'aring, tearing,
Sometimes swearing,
Regular Army man.