They are gassed and shelled and tortured, They are muddy, thin, and weak; They are shocked and shot and shattered, And you marvel when they speak; They will give their all in battle That the world may be made free, And their smiles amidst their sorrows Are real miracles to see. They have smiled since they were babies— Laughter, love have been their charms— And their smiles were patriotic When their country called to arms; They go laughing to the trenches, Filling fighting lines with glee, And with smiles they come back wounded— Those are smiles that puzzle me. Kings and kaisers may be mighty As the bloody brutes of war; They may use the worst of weapons Never dreamed of e’er before; But they’re sure to meet disaster Over land and on the sea, For the soldier boys of Freedom Fight—and smile—the whole world free! ALLEN A. STOCKDALE, Capt., U.S.A. BEEFING It seems I’m never satisfied No matter where I go. My job’s a cinch, my duties soft, I still find grief and woe. If I’m stationed in a training camp Where drills are very light, I holler to be sent up front To get into the fight. When we were in the U. S. A., I thought we had no chance, And I wasn’t really satisfied Till on my way to France. We’ve been here now about six months, And if I had kept track, I’ll bet I’ve said, a thousand times, “I wish that I was back.” And when I was a corporal I belly-ached around And thought a better sergeant Than I’d make could not be found. I’ve had three stripes for eight long months, And still I curse my luck, And threaten that I’ll tear ’em off And go back to a buck. For when they try to please me And dish out first class chow, And there’s sugar in the coffee, I’ll holler anyhow. And if I was sent to Heaven And up there was doing well, I wouldn’t, yet, be satisfied Till I’d got a look at hell! H. H. HUSS, Sgt., Inf. THE TANK