So fill your glasses to the brim And brace your courage with slow gin, I will tell you all it is a sin To serve in the Infantrie. I'm a cavalryman so fierce and bold, a soldier thru and thru, I ride a horse because of course 'tis the proper thing to do. I wear my spurs both night and day that every one may see. Whatever else I might have been, I'm not in the Infantrie. We went to fight the China horde with sabre, horse and gun. We'd meet them and we'd beat them just the way it should be done; But we left our horses, corn and hay out on the ships in Taku Bay And consequently had to stay while the dough boys hiked away. I'm a man of experience, I've been to Fort Monroe, I've garrisoned Fort Hamilton and the Presidio. I went out to the Philippines and in the Walled Citie. I fought the Filipino War in the Coast Artillerie. Chorus: So make way for the red stripe man, The pride of our armee And let him tell the glories of The Coast Artillerie. About another soldier man I'd like to say a word: He's neither fish nor flesh nor fowl, but he is a bird, He finds his way o'er foreign seas by sun and moon and star, But he could not find his way across the Island of Samar. Chorus: So make way for the web-foot man The good U. S. Marines. They need four guides for every man, Out in the Philippines. THE RED GUIDON Come, fill up your glasses. I'll give you a toast. We'll drink to the red and the blue, The first in the battle, the last from its post, Old comrades so faithful and true. Here's to friends who have passed o'er the last long divide, Their spirit is still marching on, As it did in the days when we marched side by side As we followed the red guidon. Chorus: Then here's to the crossed cannons, they never will run, The limber and rolling caisson, The clank of the collar and rumble of gun As we follow the red guidon. We've soldiered together, brave hearts ever true, We've marched, we have fought and we've bled For the dear old flag with its red, white and blue That floats in the breeze overhead. We've joked and we've laughed around the camp fire's red glare From Cuba to distant Luzon, As we told the old stories that drive away care 'Neath the folds of the red guidon. Come, toss off your tankards, we'll drink long and deep, Brave hearts ever gallant and true, To friends who now rest in their long peaceful sleep, Who once wore the red and blue. We'll prove true in the future as they in the past, Old comrades of gun and caisson; We'll fight like true soldiers from first to the last As we follow the red guidon. Chorus: Then here's to the crossed cannons, they never will run, Here's the limber and rolling caisson, The clank of the collar and rumble of gun And Hurrah for the Red Guidon! THE CONSCRIPT