[Illustration] 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? 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." [Illustration: Right Dress--MARCH] 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!"