Rhymes of the Rookies | Page 3

say.
Round out your muscles for the
fray.
Life's not worth living any more,
Should Teuton force invade
our shore.
A-B-C-OF ARMY LIFE
A is the ARMY,
With its shot, and its shell,
B is the BATTLE

That makes the War, Hell.
C is the CAVALRY,
Dashing and Bold,

D is the "DOUGHBOY,"
Whom the trenches must hold;
E,
ENGINEER,
Who lays out the plot,
F the "FIRST AID,"
With
stretcher and cot;
G is the "GUARD,"
Our "Border-Patrol"--
H is
HEADQUARTERS,
The high-ranking role.
I is the INFANTRY,

That's hot on the Hike,
J is JAW-BONE,
Oh, "Pay-as-you-like";

K is the KITCHEN,
Where they turn out the "stew,"
L is
LANCE-CORPORAL.
Who ranks just a few;
M is the MESS,

Where the rations are served,
N is "NON-COM,"
Whose "Stripes"
are deserved;
O is the OFFICER,
"Spick and so span,"
P is the
PRISONER,
Who's "under the ban,"
Q is the QUARTERS,
With
"lights out at Taps,"
R is the ROOKIE,
Whom everyone raps,
S is
the SERGEANT,
Who keeps 'em in line,
T is TATTOO,

Three-quarters past nine,
U is the UNIFORM,
Buttons so bright,

V is the VOLLEY,
That settles the Fight;
W the WAGON,
With

"four Army mules,"
X the eX-soldier,
Whose ardor now cools,
Y
is the YOUNGSTER,
Just out of the "Point,"
Z--can't you tell

This line's out-of-joint?
A SOLDIERS PRIMER
A man, a hat, a blouse, a gun,
Call this a soldier just for fun.
A dog
tent, blanket, candle, match,
His home is built with rare dispatch;

With hard tack, bacon, army beans,
Army life is not what it seems.

A damp cold night, aching head,
The next day fever-soldier dead.

The story is brief (we know it well),
And plain is moral--"War is
Hell."
THE TALE AND WAIL OF A ROOKIE
When I was young I said to myself,
Choose a career and start after
the pelf,
Early to bed and early to rise,
You're sure to get wealthy
and awfully wise,
So I started out to look around,
But nice fat jobs
weren't easily found.
However, while taking a walk down the street,
A bright colored
poster my eyes did greet,
"Young Men Wanted." I said, "That's me,"

And stepped up closer so I could see.
"Join the Army and see the
World,"
My fingers around my last dollar were curled.
So I went around where they hung out the flag.
But that 7-year hitch
made my interest lag.
They explained it, however, and made it quite
plain
That to join the Army would be my gain.
So here I am in the
damn Philippines,
They feed me nothing but bacon and beans.
The land of the goo-goo is no place for me,
The reason porque is easy
to see.
I never was strong for bugs and lizards,
Or the amoebic bug
that tickles your gizzards.
I have a reverse on fleas and snakes,
And
I hate the noise the Gekko makes.

I have three square feet of prickly heat,
And some dhobie itch that
can't be beat,
I've had the dengue and also the fever,
Of all diseases
I've been the receiver.
I'm bitten by all that's invented to bite us,
At
the end of the year I'll have Philippinitis.
A long centipede just crawled in my bunk,
This tropical service is
certainly punk,
Not a chance in the world to go over the hill,
And
half my time is spent in the mill.
But why should I worry, I'll soon be
free.
A "G. C. M." does the trick for me.
A MARINE'S HYMN
From the Halls of Montezuma,
To the shores of Tripoli,
We fight
our country's battles
On the land as on the sea.
First to fight for
right and freedom
And to keep our honor clean,
We are proud to
claim the title
Of United States Marine.
From the Pest Hole of Cavite
To the ditch at Panama,
You will find
them very needy
Of Marines--that's what we are;
We're watch dogs
of a pile of coal
Or we dig a magazine,
Tho' he lends a hand at
every job,
Who would not be a Marine?
Our flag's unfurled to every breeze
From dawn to setting sun,
We
have fought in every clime or place
Where we could take a gun;
In
the snow of far off northern lands
And in sunny tropic scenes,
You
will find us always on the job--
The United States Marines.
Here's health to you and to our corps
Which we are proud to serve,

In many a strife we have fought for life
And never lost our nerve;
If
the army and the navy
Ever look on heaven's scenes,
They will find
the streets are guarded by
The United States Marines.
HERE'S TO THE SIXTEENTH!
(A toast by an officer at San Antonio banquet.)

Here's to the "Sixteenth Cavalry,"
A "Colt" that has just been foaled;

Bred with no "Past,"--but a Future,
Which Training and Time will
unfold.
This "Colt," with his milk-teeth gives promise
Of growing to be some
fine horse,
And if we give him "right raising,"
Be sure that he'll
"come across."
Our "Colt" is as "sound" and as "quiet"
As any old horse you will see,

And, as for his "fit conformation,"--
That's just as fine as can be.
Here's hoping that he gets good "grooming,"
Good "grazing'"--good
"stable"--good "stall;"
So when they sound "Boots and Saddles,"

The "Colt" can answer their call.
Here's hoping that he gets good "forage,"
Well "watered"--with
"all-fours" well cleaned;
And not have to patrol the hot Border,--
At
least,--until he is "weaned."
We'll swear by this "Colt," who