Rhymes of the Rookies | Page 5

web-foot man?The good U. S. Marines.?They need four guides for every man,?Out in the Philippines.
THE RED GUIDON
Come, fill up your glasses. I'll give you a toast.?We'll drink to the red and the blue,?The first in the battle, the last from its post,?Old comrades so faithful and true.?Here's to friends who have passed o'er the last long divide, Their spirit is still marching on,?As it did in the days when we marched side by side?As we followed the red guidon.
Chorus:
Then here's to the crossed cannons, they never will run,?The limber and rolling caisson,?The clank of the collar and rumble of gun?As we follow the red guidon.
We've soldiered together, brave hearts ever true,?We've marched, we have fought and we've bled?For the dear old flag with its red, white and blue?That floats in the breeze overhead.?We've joked and we've laughed around the camp fire's red glare From Cuba to distant Luzon,?As we told the old stories that drive away care?'Neath the folds of the red guidon.
Come, toss off your tankards, we'll drink long and deep,?Brave hearts ever gallant and true,?To friends who now rest in their long peaceful sleep,?Who once wore the red and blue.?We'll prove true in the future as they in the past,?Old comrades of gun and caisson;?We'll fight like true soldiers from first to the last?As we follow the red guidon.
Chorus:
Then here's to the crossed cannons, they never will run,?Here's the limber and rolling caisson,?The clank of the collar and rumble of gun?And Hurrah for the Red Guidon!
THE CONSCRIPT
"Life is real; life is earnest"--but a Gamble after all,?"Ten million Conscripts" are answering the Call;?Ten million men of which I am One--?What were the "odds" when "the wheel was spun"??What were the "odds" that Fate would select?Me for a Conscript--another reject??Fate was the Gambler; I was a "chip,"?Death was the "stake" held in Life's grip;?I am a Conscript played in Fate's hand,?When the Game's over--how will I stand??Death, will it lose, or Life, will it win,?Who'll be the "winner" at the great "Cash-in"??Ten million Conscripts to answer the Call,?And at the gusts, the leaves must fall:?With submarines launching torpedoes below,?Which troop ship to atoms are they to blow??Ghosts of disease lurking in camp,?Spectral sickness in trenches so damp;?Ten million bullets ripping the air,?Which Conscript to be stricken, and when and where??Ten million shrapnel shrieking o'er head,?Which Conscript to reckon among their dead??Thousands of wounds, a-gaping and wide,?Who will recover, and who will have died??Millions of mothers so anxious at home,?Who will wear crepe for loved ones, alone??Millions of sweethearts who'll weep o'er the "lists,"?Which lovers the lips ne'er more to be kissed??All is a Gamble--this War-Game of Chance--?The life of a Conscript over in France.?The "Roulette of Life" is spinning so fast,?The "red ball of Death" must drop in at last;?Which numbers will win, which numbers will lose,?The "odds" or the "evens," the "reds" or the "blues"??Yet Hope is the "Banker" and He will repay?The chances that Conscripts must take in the fray;?And Fate's a Good sport, when "dealing the cards,"?He'll give "Fifty-fifty" to Conscript for odds.
THE SLACKER
Why don't he volunteer to serve?In Uncle Sammy's grand reserve??He knows quite well his country's call;?Has no regard for this, at all.?He never thinks to do his part,?Because he has a Slacker's heart.
He walks along the street quite spry--?To feign indifference he must try,?When suddenly he takes affright,?It's just a picture (what a sight)?Of Uncle Sam with pointing finger.?Take it from me! He doesn't linger.
"Why don't you do it? do it quick!"?The Slacker's skull is very thick.?It never penetrates the gray,?What Uncle Sammy, has to say.?"I want you NOW!" Oh, what a Mutt.?The words fall on a brainless nut.
He lied on registration day--?Conscription's law he'll not obey.?He seeks the nuptial vows to take,?Or any other useless fake.?Whatever else, he'll never fight.?He has the Slacker's ear-marks right.
Oh, what a useless, shameless pest,?A blot on human kind at best.?His feelings are for SELF alone.?He would not give a dog the bone.?Behold his attitude--his pose.?The Slacker's ring is in his nose.
For country's call--for country's sake--?For Liberty he will not stake?His bit, nor will he ever be?But half a man. Not he--not he.?His formula contains no sand--?It's plain, he is the Slacker "Brand."
A sneak--a snake--a cur--a blasted?Dirty rotten scourge, dodgasted?Coward, thief, and all the rest--?Can't spell the name that suits the best.?There's just one place for such as he--?Not on the earth--eternity.
PREPAREDNESS
I never had no warlike mind,?I b'long to the plowin' peaceful kind?Thet stays at home and works along,?Sun to sun--I'm good and strong---?But, neighbor, let me speak my mind:?When my country sez to back her,?Sez I back: "Here ain't no slacker,"?So walks up thar and signs the roll,?Come June the first, thirty-one year ole,?Now Uncle Sammy can call Bill Jones?Jest any ole time they say,?'Cause yisterday I gits insured,?And jined the church today.
I hates to leave the