Permission to reproduce in this book.
THEY’ve put us through our paces;
They say we’re doing fine;
We’ll soon go to our places
Upon the firing-line.
Some chaps will fight for mothers,
And some for wives so true;
For sweethearts many others,
And I will fight for you!
Through all these months of training
We’ve cherished hopeful thoughts
And drilled without complaining,
Like soldiers and good sports.
We’re warring for a reason,
We’ve sworn to see this through;
To falter would be treason,
And I will fight for you!
Your presence will be near me,
Your voice will call my name;
You’ll comfort me and cheer me,
Your love, behold, I claim!
’Twould take more than an ocean
To separate us two;
I’ll hold unto this notion,
And I will fight for you!
WAR
COL. WILLIAM LIGHTFOOT VISSCHER
in The Scoop, the Chicago Press Club’s Magazine
BY blazing homes, through forests torn
And blackened harvest fields,
The grim and drunken god of war
In frenzied fury reels.
His breath—the sulph’rous stench of guns—
That death and famine deals
And Pity, pleading, wounded falls
Beneath his steel-shod heels.