Anywhere and everywhere, From Loos to Ispahan, Yankee, Poilu, Tommy’s Been with me to a man; Pacifist and fighter, too, I care not where I go, Crashing, smashing at the lines That shield the common foe. Anywhere and everywhere, Heat-riven through and through, Fussy, mussy Browning gun, Three heroes for a crew! ALBERT JAY COOK, Corp., M.G. Bn. OUR DEAD They lie entombed in serried ranks, A cross atop each lonely grave. They rest beneath the peaceful banks They fought so valiantly to save. This ground made sacred by their tears, Our starry flag above each head, For upwards of a thousand years A shrine shall be unto our dead. EVERYBODY’S FRIEND At first we wuz gay as the ship slipped away From the land where we’d lived all our lives, An’ we laughed an’ we sang till the whole harbor rang, An’ threw kisses to mothers and wives. But after a while as we stood there in file, An’ the people wuz only a blur, Things sort o’ calmed down, an’ we jus’ watched the town Till we couldn’t see nothin’ o’ her. Say, then we felt blue, an’ you couldn’t tell who Felt the worst, fer we all darn near cried; ’Twas jus’ like when night is a-comin’ in sight, An’ you’ve been where somebody’s died. First thing we knew came a roar, an’ it grew Till I’ll bet that the Kaiser could hear; Fer there off one side, lookin’ at us with pride, Wuz Liberty! Who wouldn’t cheer? I s’pose she’s still there with the crown in her hair An’ her lamp givin’ light to the land; That may all be so, but there’s lots of us know How we still feel the touch of her hand. Sometimes in the night when there ain’t any fight, An’ we’re standin’ on guard all alone, Like an angel o’ grace she comes near, an’ her face Cheers our hearts which wuz colder’n a stone. In the thick of a scrap, with sweat oozin’ like sap, She puts her cool hand into ours; An’ like that everywhere, we c’n feel that she’s there, With her help, and her smile like the flowers. FREDERICK W. KURTH, Sgt., M.T.D. THE STEVEDORE