You are here
قراءة كتاب Rookie rhymes, by the men of the 1st and 2nd provisional training regiments, Plattsburg, New York
تنويه: تعرض هنا نبذة من اول ١٠ صفحات فقط من الكتاب الالكتروني، لقراءة الكتاب كاملا اضغط على الزر “اشتر الآن"
اللغة: English
Rookie rhymes, by the men of the 1st and 2nd provisional training regiments, Plattsburg, New York
الصفحة رقم: 5
FOREWORD
River that rolls to the restless deep
From sylvan-born placidity,
Stained issue of the undefiled
By your own wayward will exiled
From the crystal lap of a land-locked sea,
Read me the meaning of your mood.
The waters murmur as they flow,
"Strife is the law by which we live;
Stagnation, our alternative:
This is the only truth we know."
The tides of mortal toilers meet
To merge their rhythms in bloody fray,
And, wave to wave, their armies call—
Nay, summon us that we shall all
Assume the role we choose to play.
So, at the cry, in loyal breasts,
As smaller self-concern recedes,
Still burns the old Achillean fire,
Still eager questing souls desire
Not life but living, not days but deeds.
From sylvan-born placidity,
Stained issue of the undefiled
By your own wayward will exiled
From the crystal lap of a land-locked sea,
Read me the meaning of your mood.
The waters murmur as they flow,
"Strife is the law by which we live;
Stagnation, our alternative:
This is the only truth we know."
The tides of mortal toilers meet
To merge their rhythms in bloody fray,
And, wave to wave, their armies call—
Nay, summon us that we shall all
Assume the role we choose to play.
So, at the cry, in loyal breasts,
As smaller self-concern recedes,
Still burns the old Achillean fire,
Still eager questing souls desire
Not life but living, not days but deeds.
PART I
POEMS
STANDING IN LINE
When I applied for Plattsburg I stood for hours in line
To get a piece of paper which they said I had to sign;
When I had signed I stood in line (and my, that line was slow!)
And asked them what to do with it; they said they didn't know.
And when I came to Plattsburg I had to stand in line,
To get a Requisition, from five o'clock till nine;
I stood in line till night for the Captain to endorse it;
But the Q. M. had one leggin' left; I used it for a corset.
We stand in line for hours to get an issue for the squad;
We stand in line for hours and hours to use the cleaning-rod;
And hours and hours and hours and hours to sign the roll for pay;
And walk for miles in double files on Inoculation day.
Oh, Heaven is a happy place, its streets are passing fair,
And when they start to call the roll up yonder I'll be there;
But when they start to call that roll I certainly will resign
If some Reserve Archangel tries to make me stand in line.
To get a piece of paper which they said I had to sign;
When I had signed I stood in line (and my, that line was slow!)
And asked them what to do with it; they said they didn't know.
And when I came to Plattsburg I had to stand in line,
To get a Requisition, from five o'clock till nine;
I stood in line till night for the Captain to endorse it;
But the Q. M. had one leggin' left; I used it for a corset.
We stand in line for hours to get an issue for the squad;
We stand in line for hours and hours to use the cleaning-rod;
And hours and hours and hours and hours to sign the roll for pay;
And walk for miles in double files on Inoculation day.
Oh, Heaven is a happy place, its streets are passing fair,
And when they start to call the roll up yonder I'll be there;
But when they start to call that roll I certainly will resign
If some Reserve Archangel tries to make me stand in line.
THE FIRST TIME
My legs are moving to and fro
I feel like a balloon;
How my head swims, first time I go
To boss the damn platoon.
My throat and mouth are full of paste
There's nothing in my hat;
My belt is winding round my waist
But where's my stomach at?
I feel like a balloon;
How my head swims, first time I go
To boss the damn platoon.
My throat and mouth are full of paste
There's nothing in my hat;
My belt is winding round my waist
But where's my stomach at?
ONWARD CHRISTIAN SCIENCE
Our Christian Science Battery
Without a gun or horse,
Is just a simple oversight,
That will be changed, of course.
But while we're waiting patiently,
And longing for the day,
They have a funny little game
They make us fellows play.
Bill Hallstead simulates the gun
He's sort of short and fat
And doesn't look much like a gun,
But he's pretty good at that.
And they've elected me a horse,
Off-horse of the wheel pair;
I tie a white cloth on my arm
So they can see I'm there.
Then when the battery is formed
With each man in his place,
They line the "pieces" in a row
Just like a chariot race.
Bill Barnum's "Greatest Show on Earth"
Has not a thing on us;
We tear around the old parade
And kick up clouds of dust.
For it's gallop all the morning long,
They never let us walk.
Why, it gets so realistic
That I whinney when I talk.
I wouldn't be a bit surprised
If I should hear some day
That instead of mess they'd issue us
That 14 lbs. of hay.
And so I'm looking for the man
The one who said to me:
"You don't want to be a 'doughboy,'
Go and join the battery."
Without a gun or horse,
Is just a simple oversight,
That will be changed, of course.
But while we're waiting patiently,
And longing for the day,
They have a funny little game
They make us fellows play.
Bill Hallstead simulates the gun
He's sort of short and fat
And doesn't look much like a gun,
But he's pretty good at that.
And they've elected me a horse,
Off-horse of the wheel pair;
I tie a white cloth on my arm
So they can see I'm there.
Then when the battery is formed
With each man in his place,
They line the "pieces" in a row
Just like a chariot race.
Bill Barnum's "Greatest Show on Earth"
Has not a thing on us;
We tear around the old parade
And kick up clouds of dust.
For it's gallop all the morning long,
They never let us walk.
Why, it gets so realistic
That I whinney when I talk.
I wouldn't be a bit surprised
If I should hear some day
That instead of mess they'd issue us
That 14 lbs. of hay.
And so I'm looking for the man
The one who said to me:
"You don't want to be a 'doughboy,'
Go and join the battery."
THEY BELIEVE IN US BACK HOME
"Lots of love to our lieutenant,"
Writes my mother;
And the letters from my brother
Contain facetious remarks about "majors" . . .
He calls me "The Colonel" and laughs. . . .
But they mean it seriously,
Those back home.
They can't seem to realize
How shaky is our berth up here . . .
How every "Retreat" means a brief respite;
Each "Reveille" the dread
Of some more foolish blunder . . .
Some new bone-play.
And yet sometimes our timid vanity
Blossoms under the warmth of their regard;
Our hopes take strength from their confidence in us.
There came a blue envelope in the mail today.
A square envelope delicately scented with myrrh. . . .
And she ended with
"Adieu, cher Capitaine."
That very morning
I started even our sphinx-faced commander
By bawling out: "Right dress—MARCH!"
"Adieu, cher Capitaine,"
She had written,
And I can see the flecks of soft star dust in her eyes
As she thought it.
Bitterly I swore at my luck . . .
Then
Sent her that photograph taken of me
On July Fourth. . . .
Of me astride the horse of an officer.
I scrawled a jest under it.
But what else could I do?
Writes my mother;
And the letters from my brother
Contain facetious remarks about "majors" . . .
He calls me "The Colonel" and laughs. . . .
But they mean it seriously,
Those back home.
They can't seem to realize
How shaky is our berth up here . . .
How every "Retreat" means a brief respite;
Each "Reveille" the dread
Of some more foolish blunder . . .
Some new bone-play.
And yet sometimes our timid vanity
Blossoms under the warmth of their regard;
Our hopes take strength from their confidence in us.
There came a blue envelope in the mail today.
A square envelope delicately scented with myrrh. . . .
And she ended with
"Adieu, cher Capitaine."
That very morning
I started even our sphinx-faced commander
By bawling out: "Right dress—MARCH!"
"Adieu, cher Capitaine,"
She had written,
And I can see the flecks of soft star dust in her eyes
As she thought it.
Bitterly I swore at my luck . . .
Then
Sent her that photograph taken of me
On July Fourth. . . .
Of me astride the horse of an officer.
I scrawled a jest under it.
But what else could I do?
ODE TO A LADY IN WHITE STOCKINGS
Lady, in your stockings white,
As you flutter by the road,
You inspire me to write
An ode.
Though upon my manly back
There reposes half a ton,
Why repine against a pack
Or gun?
Though the fire-tressed orb
Makes mirage upon the street;
Though the baking soil absorb
My feet;
Though the Sergeants stamp and rave;
Though the Captain's eye is flame;
Pray, how should my heart behave—
The same?
I become a thing of steel,
Buoyant none the less as
As you flutter by the road,
You inspire me to write
An ode.
Though upon my manly back
There reposes half a ton,
Why repine against a pack
Or gun?
Though the fire-tressed orb
Makes mirage upon the street;
Though the baking soil absorb
My feet;
Though the Sergeants stamp and rave;
Though the Captain's eye is flame;
Pray, how should my heart behave—
The same?
I become a thing of steel,
Buoyant none the less as