The Happy Warrior Read Online Free PDF Page A

Boys,” turned back and gave a shout –
    A German sniper had him set and laid poor Ginger out.
    Perhaps you’ve left the trenches which are commonly called hell
    You think you’ve clicked and found a job away from shot and shell,
    But high explosives travel far and aeroplanes range wide
    And behind the lines they oft cop out worse than they do inside.
    The moral then is surely writ quite plain for all to see:
    You chance your arm a thousand times wherever you may be,
    The gods on high they play this game, we are the pawns below
    And when they put your number up, it’s up you’ve got to go.
    Sgt A.M. Dick (?)
    (AWM PR 00187)
----
    Australians
    We stand on the shore of Durban
    And watch the transports go
    To England from Australia
    Hurrying to and fro,
    Bearing the men of a Nation
    Who are heroes to the core
    To stand or fall by the motherland;
    And they’re sending thousands more
    We’ve watched the ships returning
    With the crippled and the maimed,
    With limbs that trail and falter
    Theirs an immortal name!
    The deathless name of “Anzac”
    That thrills from pole to pole,
    The remnants of the heroes
    On the long and glorious roll.
    And now in their tens of hundreds
    Come the men to fill their ranks,
    And what can we do to show them
    Our love, our pride, our thanks?
    We can’t do much (I own it)
    But give them a passing cheer,
    While the real elite beat a shocked retreat —
    Why, they saw one drinking a beer!
    Sgt AM Dick (?)
    (AWM PR 00187)
----
    Assignment
    Laughingly he told us before he went away
    To look inside his wallet, we’d find his last weeks pay,
    And should he not return we were to spend the bloomin lot
    On a stimulating beverage at the first inviting spot.
    We said “Good luck!” and watched their shapes fade dimly in the west
    And I thought how many a truthful word is often said in jest;
    So we went about our work until the boys returned at three
    Then we heard that one missing and I knew at once ’twas he.
    And now that we are back a bit we all agree it’s best
    That we go on leave together and fulfil his small request;
    And we’ll spend his well-earned money and we’ll drink to one who knew
    That we’d be with him in spirit just the way he asked us to.
    Pte A. Morrison
    QX4534
    (AWM PR 00392)
----
    Rhyme of War Gasses
    If you get a choking feeling
    And the smell of musty hay
    You can bet your bottom dollar
    That there’s phosgene on the way,
    But the smell of bleaching powder
    Will inevitably mean
    That the enemy we are meeting
    Is the gas we call chlorine.
    When your eyes begin a-twitching
    And for tears you cannot see
    It’s not mother peeling onions
    But a dose of C.A.P.
    Should the smell resemble pear-drops
    You had better not delay;
    It’s not your mate that’s sucking toffee
    It’s the awful K.S.K.
    If you catch a pungent odor
    As you’re going home for tea
    You may safely take for granted
    That they’re using B.B.C.
    If for garlic or onions
    You have cultivated a taste
    When in war you meet these orders
    Leave the area in haste:
    It’s mustard gas, that hellish stuff,
    That leaves you one big blister
    And in hospital you will need
    The attention of a Sister.
    White geranium looks quite pleasant
    In a jar beside the bed
    You must learn that smell in wartime —
    If it’s Lewisite, you’re dead.
    Cpl M. M. Carroll
    2/4 Aust. Field Bakery
    (AWM PR 00544)
----
    â€œStand To”
    Between the night and the morning,
    When the vigilant sentry’s wet through,
    Comes an hour by all soldiers detested,
    Which begins with the order “Stand To”.
    Then the tired soldier puts on his sheepskin,
    And his words turn the atmosphere blue,
    For he knows that he’ll freeze for an hour,
    Then the OC’s voice rings out “Stand To”.
    How his anger will rise ‘gainst the Kaiser
    And he’ll curse all that Sauerkraut crew,
    And it’s God help the Hun that he