331st field artillery, United States army, 1917-1919 . thin never tickled my chin, Cognac I taboo taboot; Cussin I shun like a parsons son, Tobacco aint made for me; But Im not all true, Ill be square with you, Ive a weakness.— For Battery D. Now theyre no big noise like some chollie boys. Theyve never been the Regiments pet; Theyve chawed their share of the tough luck fare, Yes and digested it. A self-willed lot, no tommyrot Of an uncrowned high king-bee, Not angels, just men, Battery D. Im a rear-rank scab with a doddering gab. No wielder of gavel or pen; But I cant stand mute when theres an
331st field artillery, United States army, 1917-1919 . thin never tickled my chin, Cognac I taboo taboot; Cussin I shun like a parsons son, Tobacco aint made for me; But Im not all true, Ill be square with you, Ive a weakness.— For Battery D. Now theyre no big noise like some chollie boys. Theyve never been the Regiments pet; Theyve chawed their share of the tough luck fare, Yes and digested it. A self-willed lot, no tommyrot Of an uncrowned high king-bee, Not angels, just men, Battery D. Im a rear-rank scab with a doddering gab. No wielder of gavel or pen; But I cant stand mute when theres any dispute Over who in Hells who among men; For Im stuck on them and Ill stick by them Deo volente, mes amis, To the hinter side of the Great Divide, My littl oP Battery D. And when the guidon red my steps has led To the gates of the setting sun. And the firing squad oer the broken sod Has crashed its encomium, Dont raise any shaft with an epitaft, Forget your R. I. P. Just write (and all is told) Here lies an old— An old wheel-horse Of Battery A T T E R Y D A 551 g Field Artillery,f 1)
Size: 2316px × 1079px
Photo credit: © The Reading Room / Alamy / Afripics
License: Licensed
Model Released: No
Keywords: ., boo, bookcentury1900, bookdecade1910, booksubjectworldwar19141918
