Ballads of Battle/Soldier, Soldier

by Joseph Lee

SOLDIER, SOLDIER

Wastrel, wastrel, standing in the street,
Billy-cock upon your head; boots that show your feet.

Rookie, rookie, not too broad of chest,
But game to do your bloomin' bit with the bloomin' best.

Rookie, rookie, growling at the grub;
Loth to wash behind the ears when you take your tub.

Rookie, rookie, licking into shape—
Thirty-six inch round the buff showing by the tape.

Rookie, rookie, boots and buttons clean;
Mustachios waxing stronger; military mien.

Rookie, rookie, drilling in the square,
Britain's ancient glory in your martial air.

Rookie, rookie, swagger-stick to twirl;
Waving hands to serving maids; walking out the girl.

Soldier, soldier, ordered to the front,
Marching forward eager-eyed, keen to bear the brunt.

Soldier, soldier, bidding her good-bye―
"When I come back I'll marry you, so, darling, don't you cry!"

Soldier, soldier, sailing in the ships,
Cigarettes and curious oaths betwixt your boyish lips.

Soldier, soldier, standing in the trench;
Wading through the mud and mire, stifling in the stench.

Soldier, soldier, 'mid the din and dirt,
More than monastic tortures moving in your shirt.

Soldier, soldier, facing shot and shell;
Jesting as you gaze within the open Gate of Hell.

Soldier, soldier, charging on the foe,
With your comrade's dying cry to urge you as you go.

Soldier, soldier, stilly lying dead,
With a dum-dum bullet through your dunder head.

Soldier, soldier, with a smile of grace,
Breaking through the grime and grit on your blood-swept face.

Soldier, soldier, sound will be your sleep,
You will never waken, though you hear her weep.

Soldier, soldier———
How I love you!