“YOU see that young kid lying there
Playing a game of solitaire?
All shot to pieces in the air;
By Heck, Sarge, he’s a wonder.
The gamest kid I ever met;
They’re probing him for bullets yet,
But s—sh; here comes his nurse Yvette—
Kept him from going under.
You think she’s passing by him? Nit!
D’you get that smile? He waves his mitt;
I think he’s stuck on her a bit,
Can’t blame him for that matter,
She watches him just like a hawk.
Now listen to their daily talk.
She’s all Paree, he’s all New York;
Sit quiet, hear their chatter.”
“Pardonnez-moi, désirez-vous——”
“Oh, fine and dandy! How are you?”
“Quelque chose? Comprenez-vous?——”
“Ah, now I know you’re kiddin’.”
“Vous avez bonne mine aujourd’hui——”
“It’s high time you were nice to me.”
“Time? Je comprends, il est midi——”
“Bright eyes, I think I’m skiddin’.”
“Je crois que je vous donnerai——”
I’ll back up anything you say——”
“Un petit morceau de poulet——”
“You fascinating creature!”
“Avec le crême, dans la coquille,——”
“Rats! There she goes! I always feel
Some blessy’s S. O. S. appeal
Will call off my French teacher.”
The Sarge here nudged my splintered ribs;
“Well, I’ll be damned! Here comes His Nibs!”
And down the aisle stalked General Gibbs
With all the famous aces.
They formed around the sick boy’s bed,
He gasped, saluted, then turned red:
“Looks like I’m pinched!” was all he said,
Scanning their smiling faces.
“So,” spoke the General, “you alone
Brought down three Taubes on your own!
Another Yankee Ace is known
To everyone in Blighty.
I’m proud to know you,—put it there,—
And now we’re going to let you wear
This gallantly won Croix de Guerre
I’m pinning on your nighty.”
THEY SHALL NOT PASS
ALISON BROWN
of The Vigilantes
Permission to reproduce in this book
THEY shall not pass,
While Britain’s sons draw breath,
While strength is theirs to strike with shining sword.
They shall not pass,
Except they pass to Death—
For British fighting men have pledged their word.