Page:War, the Liberator (1918).djvu/125

An intimate acquaintance
 With our old Number 5.^[1]

So all you little Bosches,
 That listen to my lay,
Stick closely to your rifles,
 And clean them every day,
And every night and morning
 Just fill yourselves with rum,
For you’ll need all your ration
 The day the Seaforths come.

1. No. 5 Mills hand grenade, a handy little bomb.