Page:Poems of the Great War - Cunliffe.djvu/139

 To here and there blow off a head with just a bit of

chuckling lead ; To bayonet a foolish bloke at hide-and-seek in

trench and smoke ; To shoot, shoot, shoot, till they've got no legs to

scoot ! Fun ? — Sure, it's fun, just the finest ever, son !

God, it's fun to be a soldier ! Oh, it's fun, fun, fun, To lie out still and easy when your day's sport's

done; With not a thing to worry for, nor anything to

hurry for ; Not hungry, thirsty, tired, but a hero much-admired. Just dead, dead, dead, like Jack and Bill and Fred ! Fun? — Sure, it's fun, just the finest ever, son!

— Richard Butler Glaenzer.

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