Writ in Barracks

O God of Battles! Lord of Might!
'Ere in the dusky, starry light,
My inner self I've weighed;
An' I 'ave seen my guilt an' sin;
I'm black as black can be, within,
But though I would forgiveness win,
It ain't 'cos I'm afraid!

O God of Battles! Lord of Might!
Keep me, to-morrow, in Your sight! —
Far 'ave I erred an' strayed.
I've flaunted You, with gibe an' sneer,
At 'ome, with chums to laugh and cheer,
But now, I am alone – out 'ere!
But still I ain't afraid!

O God of Battles! Lord of Might!
The en'my's camp-fires twinkle bright.
To-morrow, Lord, Your aid;
The canteen was my Sunday-school:
The drill-book was my Golden Rule;
Wot are they now? O 'elpless fool!
But still, I'm not afraid!

O God of Battles! Lord of Might!
The price of every thoughtless slight
To-morrow will be paid!
A voice is whisp'rin' to my 'eart —
A voice that makes me sweat an' start! —
'To-morrow, soul an' soldier part!'
But I – I'm not afraid!

O God of Battles! Lord of Might!
'Ere, in the silence of the night,
My 'umble prayer is prayed!
All life an' death are one to you!
If I must die – O 'elp me to!
In that last moment, see me through —
My God! I am afraid!

CEASE FIRE

The fight was done an hour ago:
The whole brigade has fallen back,
And I've been wand'rin' to and fro,
A-askin' any – white or black,
'Say – have you seen my brother, Jack?
His troop was first in the attack!'

I should have seen him here by now:
An hour ago the 'cease fire' went.
He isn't wounded any'ow,
'Cos with the stretcher squads I went,
An' all my other time I've spent
A-hangin' round the doctor's tent.

Among the huddled, fallen men
I picked a way across the plain.
I got a dozen yards, an' then
Came back for fear I'd turn my brain…
The mangled horrors of the slain!
O Christ! I can't go there again!

Say, have you seen my brother Jack?
Don't know! an' damn you, don't much care! —
But 'scuse me, chum, a-talkin' back,
I'm sorter flustered with the glare.
These sands are hot, an' so's the air —
Perhaps he's doin' guard somewhere!

Old mother said before we went,
'Be sure you keep him in your sight'
(Not knowin' what a campaign meant).
'Don't let him stay out late o' night!' —
I wonder if he funked the fight
An' bolted. O pray God he might!

They're layin' out our dead just now,
He can't be – , no, that – that ain't sense,
An' when he comes there'll be a row!
A-keepin' me in this suspense!
'Tis here our line of killed commence,
I'll sorter look – for make-pretence!

Pretendin' some one's here I know —
I'm half inclined to turn aback —
But one by one, along I go,
And see the crimson clottin' black…
His troop was first in the attack!
What! Jack! Is this – this Thing our Jack?

TOMMY'S AUTOGRAPH

I 'ad lorst my situation, an' the girl she got the 'ump,
An' the naggin' of my muvver nearly drove me orf my chump.
So I 'oofed it down to Woolwich, to the old recruitin' starf,
An' they give to me a paper for to fix my autygrarf!

Just to fix my autygrarf!