What is that thing the Frenchmen give to a good game fightin’ boy?
Say it again—the Croix de Guerre? Well, that’s what they give to Roy.
It seems fifteen Germans were on him, and handlin’ him rather mean,
When he got a machine gun to workin’ and pocketed the whole fifteen!
SOMEWHERE IN FRANCE
LE ROY C. HENDERSON
in Cartoons Magazine
Permission to reproduce in this book
SHE stands alone beside the gate,
Where oft with him she stood before,
And seems to hear his voice relate
Life’s sweetest story o’er and o’er;
A hand she feels upon her own,
Unconsciously a tender glance
She gives, then starts and stands alone,
The lover sleeps—Somewhere in France.
She could have kept him if she would—
His heart and soul were all her own—
But true love knew and understood
That Honor is its own true throne;
She heard the bugles’ blaring sound
And whispered—“Go and take your chance.”
There ’mid the scenes of war he found
Eternal peace—Somewhere in France.
She knows not where that spot may be—
On barren plain, in hidden dell,
On wooded hill, beside the sea—
The lips that would will never tell;
She knows not what his last words were,
The thoughts that come with Death’s advance,
And yet, she feels they were of her,
Those last fond thoughts—Somewhere in France.