They are chopping in the forest, double-timing on the roads,
Putting two-ways where a single went before;
In the cabs of sweating engines, pushing, pulling double loads
When the R.T.O.’s in frenzied tones implore.
For it’s duty, solid duty with the hustling men behind,
From the P. of E.’s on up to No Man’s Land;
And there’s never chance of shirking when the boys up front are working—
Night and day must go the answer to the front line’s stern demand.
There’s about two million fellows and there’s some of them who lie
Where eighty-eights and G.I.’s gently drop;