PRIVATE JONES, A. E. F.

PRIVATE JONES, A. E. F.

“Who is the boy and what does he do, and what do the gold stripes mean?And why is his mouth so grim and hard while those eyes of his are a-dream?Only a private soldier, eh, and he holds his head that high?Putting on airs a bit, I’d say; nothing about him that’s shy.“He’s been through hell three times, you say, and turned up with a grin?He’s faced the great unknown so much it holds no fear for him?He’s seen the highest lights of life and deepest shadows, too?He knows what glory means when mixed with mud, red blood and blue?“He’s slept in the slush and rain and hummed a tune as the big guns barked?He’s eaten a single meal a day, and kept ragtime in his heart?He’s fallen three times, you say, in the dark, with limp, still things around,And he called the nurse ‘kid’ and asked her to help him get back to that ground?“No wonder the mouth is grim and set, no wonder the eyes a-dream;The best and worst in life and death the plain buck private has seen.Ah, well, I suppose he’d like to quit and get an easier job.No? Not he? He told you, you say, he wouldn’t trade bunks with God?”William I. Engle, Pvt., Inf.

“Who is the boy and what does he do, and what do the gold stripes mean?And why is his mouth so grim and hard while those eyes of his are a-dream?Only a private soldier, eh, and he holds his head that high?Putting on airs a bit, I’d say; nothing about him that’s shy.“He’s been through hell three times, you say, and turned up with a grin?He’s faced the great unknown so much it holds no fear for him?He’s seen the highest lights of life and deepest shadows, too?He knows what glory means when mixed with mud, red blood and blue?“He’s slept in the slush and rain and hummed a tune as the big guns barked?He’s eaten a single meal a day, and kept ragtime in his heart?He’s fallen three times, you say, in the dark, with limp, still things around,And he called the nurse ‘kid’ and asked her to help him get back to that ground?“No wonder the mouth is grim and set, no wonder the eyes a-dream;The best and worst in life and death the plain buck private has seen.Ah, well, I suppose he’d like to quit and get an easier job.No? Not he? He told you, you say, he wouldn’t trade bunks with God?”William I. Engle, Pvt., Inf.

“Who is the boy and what does he do, and what do the gold stripes mean?And why is his mouth so grim and hard while those eyes of his are a-dream?Only a private soldier, eh, and he holds his head that high?Putting on airs a bit, I’d say; nothing about him that’s shy.

“Who is the boy and what does he do, and what do the gold stripes mean?

And why is his mouth so grim and hard while those eyes of his are a-dream?

Only a private soldier, eh, and he holds his head that high?

Putting on airs a bit, I’d say; nothing about him that’s shy.

“He’s been through hell three times, you say, and turned up with a grin?He’s faced the great unknown so much it holds no fear for him?He’s seen the highest lights of life and deepest shadows, too?He knows what glory means when mixed with mud, red blood and blue?

“He’s been through hell three times, you say, and turned up with a grin?

He’s faced the great unknown so much it holds no fear for him?

He’s seen the highest lights of life and deepest shadows, too?

He knows what glory means when mixed with mud, red blood and blue?

“He’s slept in the slush and rain and hummed a tune as the big guns barked?He’s eaten a single meal a day, and kept ragtime in his heart?He’s fallen three times, you say, in the dark, with limp, still things around,And he called the nurse ‘kid’ and asked her to help him get back to that ground?

“He’s slept in the slush and rain and hummed a tune as the big guns barked?

He’s eaten a single meal a day, and kept ragtime in his heart?

He’s fallen three times, you say, in the dark, with limp, still things around,

And he called the nurse ‘kid’ and asked her to help him get back to that ground?

“No wonder the mouth is grim and set, no wonder the eyes a-dream;The best and worst in life and death the plain buck private has seen.Ah, well, I suppose he’d like to quit and get an easier job.No? Not he? He told you, you say, he wouldn’t trade bunks with God?”William I. Engle, Pvt., Inf.

“No wonder the mouth is grim and set, no wonder the eyes a-dream;

The best and worst in life and death the plain buck private has seen.

Ah, well, I suppose he’d like to quit and get an easier job.

No? Not he? He told you, you say, he wouldn’t trade bunks with God?”

William I. Engle, Pvt., Inf.


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