I can’t blow taps no more ... but say!
I tapped a German skull the other day.
And that squares me!”
Lin Davies, Pvt.
THE RETURN OF THE REFUGEES
They pick their way o’er the shell-pocked road
As the evening shadows fall,
A man and woman, their eyes a-gleam
With awe at war’s black pall.
The straggling strands of her snowy hair