HE got back gasping —
"They'd too much start!"
"I'd've shot 'em instead!"
said Wren.
"That was your job, Sir, if you'd
the 'eart —
But it wouldn't 've been you,
then.
I pray my Lord I may live to see
A firing-party in front o' them
three!"
(That's what he said to the
men.)
NOW, Joy and Wren, of
Company B,
Are a favourite firm of mine;
And the way they reinforced A,
C, and D
Was, perhaps, not unduly fine;
But it meant a good deal both to
Wren and Joy —
That grim, gaunt man, but that
desperate boy! —
And it didn't weaken the Line.
NOT a bad effort of yours,
my lad,"
The Major deigned to declare.
"My Sergeant's plan, Sir" —
"And that's not bad —
But you've lost that ribbon
you wear?"
"It – must have been eaten away
by the Gas!"
"Well – ribbons are ribbons —
but don't be an ass!
It's better to do than dare."
DARE! He has dared to de-
sert his post —
But he daren't acknowledge
his sin!
He has dared to face Wren with
a lying boast —
But Wren is not taken in.
None sings his praises so long
and loud —
With look so loving and loyal
and proud!
But the boy sees under his
skin.
DAILY and gaily he wrote to
his wife,
Who had dropped the beati-
fied droll
And was writing to him on the
Meaning of Life
And the Bonds between Body
and Soul.
Her courage was high – though
she mentioned its height;
She was putting upon her the
Armour of Light —
Including her aureole!
BUT never a helm had the lad
we know,
As he went on his nightly raids
With a brace of his Blighters, an
N. G O.
And a bagful of hand-grenades
And the way he rattled and
harried the Hun —
The deeds he did dare, and the
risks he would run —
Were the gossip of the Bri-
gades.
HOW he'd stand stockstill as
the trunk of a tree,
With his face tucked down
out of sight,
When a flare went up and the
other three
Fell prone in the frightening
light.
How the German sandbags, that
made them quake,
Were the only cover he cared to
take,
But he'd eavesdrop there all
night.
MACHINE-GUNS, tapping
a phrase in Morse,
Grew hot on a random quest,
And swarms of bullets buzzed
down the course