THE MACHINE GUN
Anywhere and everywhere,
It’s me the soldiers love,
Underneath a parapet
Or periscoped above;
Backing up the barrage fire,
And always wanting more;
Chewing up a dozen disks
To blast an army corps;
Crackling, spitting, demon-like,
Heat-riven through and through,
Fussy, mussy Lewis gun,
Three heroes for a crew!
Advocate of peace am I,
Which same some won’t admit;
Say! I’d like to see that crowd
Come out and do their bit!
Out to where the boys have died,
That peace on earth might come
Sooner than if He above
Had based His hopes on some!
Whimper not, my friends, when men
Have holy work to do,
Tuning up the Vickers gun,
Three heroes for a crew!
Anywhere and everywhere,
From Loos to Ispahan,
Yankee, Poilu, Tommy’s
Been with me to a man;
Pacifist and fighter, too,
I care not where I go,
Crashing, smashing at the lines
That shield the common foe.
Anywhere and everywhere,
Heat-riven through and through,
Fussy, mussy Browning gun,
Three heroes for a crew!
Albert Jay Cook, Corp., M.G. Bn.