Faces of pals in Homeburg Voices of women folk, Verses you learnt in schooldays Pop up in the mist and smoke, As you stand there, grippin’ that rifle, A-starin’, and chilled to the bone, Wonderin’ and wonderin’ and wonderin’, Just thinkin’ there—all alone! When will the war be over? When will the gang break through? What will the U. S. look like? What will there be to do? Where will the Boches be then? Who will have married Nell? When’s that relief a-comin’ up? Gosh! But this thinkin’s hell! HUDSON HAWLEY, Pvt., M.G. Bn. TO THE KID SISTER You were only a kid, little sister, When I started over the sea, But you’ve grown quite a lot since I came here, And you’ve written a letter to me, And nobody knows that you wrote it— It’s a secret—and we’ll keep it well, Your brother and you and the ocean, And nobody’s going to tell. You were only a tot when I left you. I remember I bade you goodbye And kissed you, a little bit flustered, And you promised you never would cry. But I know that you cried, little sister, As soon as I’d gone out the door, And did I cry myself? I’m a soldier, So don’t ask me anything more. I think of you often, kid sister— You’re the only kid sister I’ve got— I know you’ll be good to your mother, And I know that you’ll help her a lot. And whenever she seems to be gloomy, You’ve just got to cheer her somehow— You were only a kid to your brother, But you’re more than the world to him now. J. T. W., Pvt., A.S. CORP’RAL’S CHEVRONS Oh, the General with his shiny stars, leadin’ a parade, The Colonel and the Adjutant a-sportin’ of their braid, The Major and the Skipper—none of ’em look so fine As a newly minted corp’ral comin’ down the line! Oh, the Bishop in his mitre, pacin’ up the aisle, The Governor, frock-coated, with a votes-for-women smile, The Congressman, the Mayor, aren’t in it, I opine, With a newly minted corp’ral comin’ down the line! YOU’RE NOT A FAN, PIERRETTE