We’ve slept with all the gander’s flock, By waddling duck we’ve slumbered on— In fact, we’ve slept with all the stock, And they will miss us when we’re gone. We’ve seen at times the nocturne eyes Of playful mouse on evening spree, And the coastwise trade at night he plies With Brother Louse on a jamboree. We’ve scratched and fought with foe unseen, And with the candle hunted wide For the bug that thrives on Paris green, But cashes in on bichloride. Perchance may come a night of stars, Perchance the snow drift through the tile, Perchance the evil face of Mars Peeks in and shows his wicked smile; ’Tis then we dream of other days When we were free and in the dance, And followed in the old time ways, Far from the stable barns of France. THE MULE SKINNERS A wet and slippery road, And dusky figures passing in the night, The smell of steaming hide and soaking leather, The muttered oath, The sharp command as troops give way to right, Then clatter on through mud and streaming weather. The creak and groan of wheels, And batteries that rumble down the road With pound and splash of hoof and chains a-rattle, The driver’s spurring chirp, The tugging as the mules take up the load, And ’bove it all the roar of distant battle. All night we do our job, Hauling the supplies up from the rear, Past streams of troops and shell-shot habitation, Through rut-worn road, By blackened walls without a light to cheer, On through the night and storm and desolation. This the life we know, The seeming endless driving and the strain, The ever pushing toil, without cessation, Necessity to do, Through biting wind and cold and chilling rain, And sleepless nights and lack of rest, privation. This the life we lead, Reckless of screaming shell, and trusting chance, A soldier’s humble task, a soldier’s ration. But who of us would trade His soldier’s lot nor want to be in France? Who would not live his life in soldier fashion? WILLIAM BRADFORD, 2nd Lt., A.G.D. THE OLD OVERSEAS CAP The war of the Trojans and all the Greek crew Was fought for the sake of a fair lady who Went absent without leave, for weal or for woe, And took her permission to Paris to go.