The Quad - 01.03.1941, Blaðsíða 3

BROWNED OFF'
What was that phrase, Sir, what’s that you say?
Was it, ’What makes the men of this unit that way?‘
Yes, Bombadier, that’s exactly the phrase
Down to what do you put their peculiar ways?
It’s not just this crowd, Sir, not by a miie.
In fact the damn feeling’s all over the isle.
Yes, I can explain — thank you, Sir, for the match —
Why not sit here, Sir, there’s quite a dry patch!
To begin, take the gunners, the trusted R.A.
I saw them myself before dawn yesterday
Wielding their picks and digging away
Finishing gun pits, building up roads
Shovelling shale, loads upon loads.
The signals on wireíess, on line, fullerphone
Reading their morse, supressing a groan.
Sending, receiving — over to you —
BOLO to COLO — the message goes through.
But let’s not forget the Infantry’s bit
(taking cover when Edward troop fire on Ted’s Spit)
Tramping the country i.n web belt and braces
Rifles red hot as they’re put through their paces.
The Service and Ordnance Corps both do their share
Working on jobs not easy to bear.
The Service Corps dreaming at night of bright tins
Ordnance at work on rusty „Have-bins.“
The „Medics“, not grafting, but doing a lot
On digits with frost bite beginning to rot.
The doctors and orderlies have a hard time
Getting distorted systems back into rhyme.
The reason is plain, Sir.
Please do not scoff.
The soldier’s are simply a little
„BROWNED OFF“.
G—L.
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