Rhymes of a Red Cross Man

<p><SPAN name="link2H_4_0018" id="link2H_4_0018"></SPAN></p> <br/> <h2> A Song of the Sandbags </h2> <p>No, Bill, I'm not a-spooning out no patriotic tosh<br/> (The cove be'ind the sandbags ain't a death-or-glory cuss).<br/> And though I strafes 'em good and 'ard I doesn't 'ate the Boche,<br/> I guess they're mostly decent, just the same as most of us.<br/> I guess they loves their 'omes and kids as much as you or me;<br/> And just the same as you or me they'd rather shake than fight;<br/> And if we'd 'appened to be born at Berlin-on-the-Spree,<br/> We'd be out there with 'Ans and Fritz, dead sure that we was right.<br/> <br/> A-standin' up to the sandbags<br/> It's funny the thoughts wot come;<br/> Starin' into the darkness,<br/> 'Earin' the bullets 'um;<br/> <i>(ZING! ZIP! PING! RIP!<br/> 'ARK 'OW THE BULLETS 'UM!)</i><br/> A-leanin' against the sandbags<br/> Wiv me rifle under me ear,<br/> Oh, I've 'ad more thoughts on a sentry-go<br/> Than I used to 'ave in a year.<br/> <br/> I wonder, Bill, if 'Ans and Fritz is wonderin' like me<br/> Wot's at the bottom of it all? Wot all the slaughter's for?<br/> 'E thinks 'e's right (of course 'e ain't) but this we both agree,<br/> If them as made it 'ad to fight, there wouldn't be no war.<br/> If them as lies in feather beds while we kips in the mud;<br/> If them as makes their fortoons while we fights for 'em like 'ell;<br/> If them as slings their pot of ink just 'ad to sling their blood:<br/> By Crust! I'm thinkin' there 'ud be another tale to tell.<br/> <br/> Shiverin' up to the sandbags,<br/> With a hicicle 'stead of a spine,<br/> Don't it seem funny the things you think<br/> 'Ere in the firin' line:<br/> <i>(WHEE! WHUT! ZIZ! ZUT!<br/> LORD! 'OW THE BULLETS WHINE!)</i><br/> Hunkerin' down when a star-shell<br/> Cracks in a sputter of light,<br/> You can jaw to yer soul by the sandbags<br/> Most any old time o' night.<br/> <br/> They talks o' England's glory and a-'oldin' of our trade,<br/> Of Empire and 'igh destiny until we're fair flim-flammed;<br/> But if it's for the likes o' that that bloody war is made,<br/> Then wot I say is: Empire and 'igh destiny be damned!<br/> There's only one good cause, Bill, for poor blokes like us to fight:<br/> That's self-defence, for 'earth and 'ome, and them that bears our name;<br/> And that's wot I'm a-doin' by the sandbags 'ere to-night. . . .<br/> But Fritz out there will tell you 'e's a-doin' of the same.<br/> <br/> Starin' over the sandbags,<br/> Sick of the 'ole damn thing;<br/> Firin' to keep meself awake,<br/> 'Earin' the bullets sing.<br/> <i>(HISS! TWANG! TSING! PANG!<br/> SAUCY THE BULLETS SING.)</i><br/> Dreamin' 'ere by the sandbags<br/> Of a day when war will cease,<br/> When 'Ans and Fritz and Bill and me<br/> Will clink our mugs in fraternity,<br/> And the Brotherhood of Labour will be<br/> The Brotherhood of Peace.<br/></p> <div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />