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Title: Is He A Sorehead?
Author: W. E. Christian [
More Titles by Christian]
You've heard of the famous six hundred,
who at Balaklava fell;
Who charged like death's avengers straight
into the mouth of hell.
But there's deeds unsung, unheard of;
brave deeds gone by unseen,
Just listen to the tale of a soldier, told in
ought thirteen.
Part of the Colonial Army for duty in the
Philippine group.
If I had the gink that sent me I sure would
make him loop the loop.
Our valor is tested daily. We fight the
mosquitos and heat.
The country is fine for a Gu-Gu, but I long
for old Market Street.
The hiking is fine for a soldier, you fill up
on dust on the road,
And to eat on a dusty stomach makes you
feel like any toad.
You may talk of a seven-year enlistment,
God help me get this one in,
When you do one on the Archipelago,
you will never be free from sin.
They work you from morning till evening.
They've got you, there's no pulling out.
Can you blame us for drinking, old timer,
no chance, here's to you, old scout.
Our troubles may be all imaginary and
caused by too much sun,
But how much imagining is called for in
the war games they play for fun.
I try to do all they require me, but, God,
who can do all that?
The man is not made who can obey all
orders of a man with a gold cord on his hat.
Some are better than others, they don't
feel the polish and such,
But I've learned my lesson--they'll get
you in dutch.
Don't think for a minute I'm a sorehead
because I am in for bob,
My muscles shure got hard in the army;
I can d----! easy get a job.
And if some time, in the future, I would
hate someone to think me a friend,
I'll advise him to enlist in the army, good
night, I know that sure is his end.
[The end]
W. E. Christian's poem: Is He A Sorehead?
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