THROUGH THE WHEAT

(The Sergeant’s Story)

“There’s a job out there before us,”Said the Captain, kinder solemn;“There’s a crop out there to gatherThrough the wheat fields just ahead.”Through the wheat of Château-ThierryThat was soon to hold our column,“There’s a crop out there to gather,”That was all the Captain said.(Oh, at dawn the wheat was yellow,But at night the wheat was red.)“There’s a crop out there to gather,”And we felt contentment stealin’Like a ghost from out the shadowsOf a lost, old-fashioned street;For the crop out there before usBrought a kinder home-like feelin’,Though the zippin’ German bulletsStarted hissin’ through the wheat.But it didn’t seem to botherAs we slogged along the beat.“There’s snakes here,” whooped a privateAs the bullets started hissin’;And we saw that Hun machine gunsIn the thicket formed our crop;So we started for the harvestWhere a bunch of them was missin’,But a bunch of them was hittin’Where we hadn’t time to stop.But we damned ’em to a finishAs we saw a bunkie drop.So we gathered in the harvest,And we didn’t leave one missin’;(We had gathered crops before thisWith as tough a job ahead.)Through the wheat of Château-Thierry,With the German bullets hissin’,“There’s a crop out there to gather,”That was all the Captain said.(Oh, at dawn the wheat was yellow,But at night the wheat was red.)

“There’s a job out there before us,”

Said the Captain, kinder solemn;

“There’s a crop out there to gather

Through the wheat fields just ahead.”

Through the wheat of Château-Thierry

That was soon to hold our column,

“There’s a crop out there to gather,”

That was all the Captain said.

(Oh, at dawn the wheat was yellow,

But at night the wheat was red.)

“There’s a crop out there to gather,”And we felt contentment stealin’Like a ghost from out the shadowsOf a lost, old-fashioned street;For the crop out there before usBrought a kinder home-like feelin’,Though the zippin’ German bulletsStarted hissin’ through the wheat.But it didn’t seem to botherAs we slogged along the beat.

“There’s a crop out there to gather,”

And we felt contentment stealin’

Like a ghost from out the shadows

Of a lost, old-fashioned street;

For the crop out there before us

Brought a kinder home-like feelin’,

Though the zippin’ German bullets

Started hissin’ through the wheat.

But it didn’t seem to bother

As we slogged along the beat.

“There’s snakes here,” whooped a privateAs the bullets started hissin’;And we saw that Hun machine gunsIn the thicket formed our crop;So we started for the harvestWhere a bunch of them was missin’,But a bunch of them was hittin’Where we hadn’t time to stop.But we damned ’em to a finishAs we saw a bunkie drop.

“There’s snakes here,” whooped a private

As the bullets started hissin’;

And we saw that Hun machine guns

In the thicket formed our crop;

So we started for the harvest

Where a bunch of them was missin’,

But a bunch of them was hittin’

Where we hadn’t time to stop.

But we damned ’em to a finish

As we saw a bunkie drop.

So we gathered in the harvest,And we didn’t leave one missin’;(We had gathered crops before thisWith as tough a job ahead.)Through the wheat of Château-Thierry,With the German bullets hissin’,“There’s a crop out there to gather,”That was all the Captain said.(Oh, at dawn the wheat was yellow,But at night the wheat was red.)

So we gathered in the harvest,

And we didn’t leave one missin’;

(We had gathered crops before this

With as tough a job ahead.)

Through the wheat of Château-Thierry,

With the German bullets hissin’,

“There’s a crop out there to gather,”

That was all the Captain said.

(Oh, at dawn the wheat was yellow,

But at night the wheat was red.)

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