War, the Liberator, and Other Pieces/My Old Grenade
MY OLD GRENADE
Tune—‘‘My Old Shako”
I MIND the day, my old grenade, When first we met at war,’Twas in a little billet place Six months ago and more;I dreamt that I should be cashiered, As I went to the Orderly Room—’Twas then I met our Adjutant, And he spoke my final doom.
Heigh-ho, you have got to knowAll about the bombs and how to detonate and throw,And then I hope you’ll bring us back, when to the line we go,Ten, twenty, thirty, forty Bosches in a row.
I recollect, my old grenade, The time I tried that same, ’T was in a most unpleasant wood, The Hammerhead[1] by name,When we waited for three hours or more Under the Bosches’ fire—But I only got a beastly cold And some scratches from the wire.
Heigh-ho, how was I to knowThey’d wired the bottom of the ditch by which we had to goAnd that was how I somehow failed to get the D.S.O.,With ten, twenty, thirty, forty Bosches in a row.
I’m waiting now, my old grenade, Until the spring sets in,And the blinking old Division More pushing will begin.And when you come to bury me With a handy pick and spade,Just write, “Here lies a grenadier That loathed his old grenade.”
Heigh-ho, and I hope that I shall goTo a place where I shall never get an order or memo.,And here’s to every gallant lad that gets a D.S.O.By bringing twenty, thirty, forty Bosches in a row.
- ↑ Hammerhead Wood, Thiepval, where the Bosches nearly cut short a bright young life.