Rhymes of the Rookies

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Title: Rhymes of the Rookies
Author: W. E. Christian
Release Date: October 27, 2004 [eBook #13886]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII)
***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK
RHYMES OF THE ROOKIES***
E-text prepared by Al Haines
RHYMES OF THE ROOKIES
Sunny Side of Soldier Service
by
W. E. CHRISTIAN
1917
To the Colors
Here's to the Red of the Firing Line;
Here's to a World White-Free;

Here's to the Blue of the Yankee Sign;
Here's to Liberty!
--W. E. C

To
THEODORE ROOSEVELT
Colonel of the Rough Riders
Who, more than any other one man
gives out
The Spirit and the
Meaning
of the
AMERICAN SOLDIER
CONTENTS
MY BUNKIE
OUR OFFICERS
PAY DAY
THE ARMY
GROUCH
WEANING TIME
"HANDS ACROSS THE SEA"

THE HIKE
A-B-C OF ARMY LIFE
A SOLDIER'S
PRIMER
THE TALE AND WAIL OF A ROOKIE
A
MARINE'S HYMN
HERE'S TO THE SIXTEENTH
HIKING
IN THE PHILIPPINES
THE MOUNTAIN BATTERY SONG

THE CAVALRY SONG
THE RED GUIDON
THE
CONSCRIPT
THE SLACKER
PREPAREDNESS
"BEANS"

ADVICE
THE SCENT OF THE COCOA
MEN OF THE
HOSPITAL CORPS
GARRISON LIFE
THE PHILIPPINITIS

THE EAST IS A-CALLING
TELL YOUR TROUBLES TO
THE CORPORAL OF THE GUARD
GENERAL ORDERS OF
THE KITCHEN POLICE
IS HE A SOREHEAD?
FUNSTON

YEAR 2016 IN CHIHUAHUA
WITH PERSHING IN
MEXICO
OLD BALDY
"KAISER BILL"
THE RAW
RECRUIT
SERVING IN TEXAS
O'REILLY'S GONE TO
HELL

ON THE "BORDER"
ROUTINE
THE UNIFORM

IN THE COLD GRAY DAWN OF THE MORNING AFTER

THE OTHER SIDE OF THE POSTER
ARMY FEVER
ONE
TO THE ARMY BEAN
LITTLE THINGS

SING-A-SONG-A-SIXPENCE
QUEEN OF MAY
A YOUNG
ROOKIE'S LAMENT
DANNY DEEVER BALLAD
PUZZY
LAPPINS
A CYNIC'S VIEW OF ARMY LIFE
THE SONG
OF THE SHOVEL AND THE PICK

ARMY SLANG
ENGLISH ARMY SLANG
WORDS TO THE
ARMY TRUMPET CALLS
FIRST AID IN CASE OF
ACCIDENTS
FRENCH MONEY
ENGLISH MONEY
MY BUNKIE
He's mostly gnarls and freckles and tan,
He'd surely come under
society's ban,
He's a swearin', fightin' cavalryman,
But--he's my
bunkie.
He's weathered the winds of the Western waste.
(You, gentle
Christian, would call him debased)
And he's loved at his ease and
married in haste,
Has my bunkie.
In a Philippine paddy he's slept in the rain,
When he's drunk rotten
booze that drives you insane,
And he's often court-martialed--yes,
over again,
Is my bunkie.
He's been on the booze the whole blooming night,
To mount guard
next morning most awfully tight,
Though he's "dressed" like a soldier
when given "Guide Right," He's my bunkie.
He doesn't know Browning or Ibsen or Keats,
But he knows mighty
well when the other man cheats
And he licks him and makes him the
laugh of the streets,
Does my bunkie.
He stands by and cheers when I'm having fun,
And when it is over
says, "Pretty well done,"
But he takes a large hand if they rush two to
one,
For--he's my bunkie.
When Taps has blown and all the troop is asleep,
We nudge each
other and gingerly creep,
To where the shadows hang heavy and deep,

I and my bunkie.
And then when the fire-flies flittering roam,
We sit close together out

there in the gloam,
And talk about things appertaining to home,
I
and my bunkie.
If the slow tropic fever is a-shaking my spine,
And they blow "boots
and saddles" to chase the brown swine, He'll give me a leg-up and ride
me in line,
Will my bunkie.
And if I get hit--his arm goes around,
And raises me tenderly off of
the ground,
And the words on his lips are a comforting sound,
The
words of my bunkie.
OUR OFFICERS
I'm goin' to be discharged, sir;
My time is near its close,
I want to
tell you, cap'en,
You're the best the country grows.
They ain't no
man in all the world
Can beat the army man,
That wears the shiny
leggins and
That does the best he can.
I've seen them, sir, in battle
With the bullets flyin' round,
I've seen
them lying wounded
With the blood-stains on the ground.
I've
watched them when the fever
Was a-ragin' in the camp,
I've seen
them nurse the cholera--
A-wrestling with the cramp.
I've seen them pin to that ol' flag
Another glory more,
That made
the stripes look brighter
Than they ever did before.
They weren't
winning V.C.'s, either,
But because the country said
For them to go,
they went.
They done it or they're dead.
We've lots of men of this kind an'
Of course, we've some that ain't,

We'll cover up their faces
In the picture that we paint.
I'll follow
men like you, sir;
You can't go too fast an' far,
You're officers and
gentlemen
Like Congress says you are.
I wish I could re-up, sir,
Till you get your silver stars,
I'm sure
you'll do them credit, sir,

As you have done the bars.
I know I

shouldn't talk so much,
But somehow I'm inclined,
On leavin' the
old outfit
Just to speak the company's mind.
PAY DAY
Oh, it's early in the morning,
The mules begin to squeal,
You hear
the cooks a'bangin' pans
To get the mornin' meal;
The Bugler, sort
o' toodlin,
Outside the Colonel's tent,
And you kind o' feel
downhearted,
'Cause your last two bits is spent.
With a leggin-string you're