I mind as‘ ow the night afore that show
Us five got talking,— we was in the know,
“Over the top to-morrer; boys, we're for it,
First wave we are, first ruddy wave; that's tore it.”
“Ah well,” says Jimmy,— an’‘ e's seen some scrappin’ —
“There ai n't more nor five things as can‘ appen;
Ye get knocked out; else wounded — bad or cushy;
Scuppered; or nowt except yer feeling mushy.”
One of us got the knock-out, blown to chops.
T'other was hurt, like, losin’ both‘ is props.
An’ one, to use the word of‘ ypocrites,
‘ Ad the misfortoon to be took by Fritz.
Now me, I was n't scratched, praise God Almighty
( Though next time please I'll thank‘ im for a blighty ),
But poor young Jim,‘ e's livin’ an’‘ e's not;
‘ E reckoned‘ e'd five chances, an’‘ e's‘ ad;
‘ E's wounded, killed, and pris'ner, all the lot —
The ruddy lot all rolled in one. Jim's mad.