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I'D SAY THEY DON'T KNOW HOW T'was one morning in February, I was dreaming of the foe, When the sound came thru the Barracks, That the siren was to go. I jumped up so quickly I almost broke my back, And reached for mask and helmet, Hanging on the rack. I headed for the trenches, A good place you'll admit, And just because alert had sounded, I almost had a fit. The thoughts were soon forgotten As sound came from the sky, And two tiny little airplanes, Came swiftly sailing by. It must have been a Zero, With a P-40 on his tail, 'Cause the leading plane exploded, Probably blasted into hell. I sit there proudly watching For t'was an amazing sight, A lovely Jap formation Ten bombers in the flight. They dropped their eggs so neatly But that didn't worry me Because every single one Landed directly in the tea. The pursuit got most of them As they headed for home Assam had scored a hit On the boys that love to roam. The casualties were very few A chicken and a cow If you ask for opinion I'd say they don't know how. - Corp. H. D. LANGLEY |
HE TUCKS HIS NET WELL IN
The night was hot, and poor G.I. Tossed on his cot, and cussed The powers that made him sweat Neath a blasted shroud they call a net, What care I for that stinking anopheles I'll take my chances if you please, And speaking thus he seized the rag And stuffed it in his barracks bag. But mister minimus hov'ring near Sailed in and blitzed his exposed rear, For here he lay without defence And in due course without pretence He shivered and shook in every joint Until he thought that die he might Unless the Doc would put things right. The days and nights dragged on and on, Till G.I. was but a skeleton. His color was light grey green Down to his navel reached his spleen But sadder than this dirty deal He even lost all sex appeal. Tojo grins because he knows The Gee Eyes sleep with mosquitos So wipe that smile right off his face And keep that net tucked well in place. - Maj. JOHN J. WOLFE and Lt. JIM MYERS MONOTONY COMES TO THE CENSOR There's so much I could tell you dear But it would be cut out . . I fear, I'd like to tell you where I'm at But the Censor says I can't tell that I'd like to tell you what I do But that is on the "don't list" too. I would enclose a picture of This lucky soldier who you love But I can't do it - 'cause you know The name of the place might somehow show. All I can say - is written here The sun is shining - the day is clear And I love you more and more - my dear. - ANONYMOUS |
AH DILEMMA
Fortune teller, you ain't kiddin' When you whisper thus to me - "You are here in body only, But your heart's across the sea." Tell me more, Oh pseudo-scholar, Does HIS heart beat a retreat, When WAVES in uniform wash up, Start gently lapping at his feet? Has he gone completely WAACy? Has he fallen - ah, a WOW! Or himself become entangled With a WIRE? Not knowing how, Ere you answer, Fortune teller, Take this wisdom straight from me - A man is safer - and by far In India - with the ANC. - Lt. ELIZABETH SHAUNTY SONG OF THE OXCART What does the whine of the oxcarts say As they roll so slowly along, Are they giving advice on events of the day, Or merely singing a song? Are they telling us how to whip the Japs, As if we didn't know. Or is one whining commands to its fellow carts To keep them in a row? Are they chiding us for our many blunders And telling us where to go. Or are they boastfully chanting of Indian wonders Like the Taj and others we know? Are they asking us to go or stay awhile, Saying we're right or wrong, Or just rolling along each weary mile Without thought, but only a song? Are they weary with the dreary loads they haul As they go creeping and creaking along, Or do they just need grease a bit of oil To stop them from singing their song? - Lt. ALEX J. PORTER |
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