July 1st. 1916 Training -John Scott
The Bullring! Where we did “Intensive Training” that`s the stuff
To give the troops [or so they said] to make us youngsters tough
And there to scare the Bosche, they had us yelling ourselves hoarse
In mock attacks on trenches [which we always took, of course]
Then bayonet drill, “In! Out! On guard! Long point! Short point! Jab!
Now use the butt!” then we‘d fall out and calmly smoke a tab!
With scarce a thought that we‘d have one day, for a target, human lives,
Aye, chaps like us, who‘d left at home, Mothers, Sweethearts, Wives.
And as we rested there the time would all too quickly pass,
While we idly watched the insects a-scurrying through the grass.
I never saw so many - perhaps we envied them that day-
No one to order them about- going their own sweet way.
Back in camp for dinner - there‘s a scene I still recall;
Five hundred hungry soldiers in that wooden dining-hall,
All clattering with knife handles, aye, hammering their way through
Five hundred army biscuits to enrich the army stew.
The day‘s work done, time on our hands, [for we hadn‘t yet grown lousy]
Some squatted down outside the tents for a game of “Housey - housey”
The bolder spirits ventured to approach the “Orderly Sarge”
For passes to explore the spice of life in Paris plage.
While the “good “ lads went to the old YM. or maybe the EFC,
Canteens galore to choose from for a cake or a cup of tea.
And while serving fruit and custard, boiled eggs and sausage rolls,
Salvation Army folks were there a - praying for our souls!!
Where‘s Etaples now - a sandy waste? I neither know nor care,
I know it wouldn‘t look the same to me if I were there.
In memory the place exists, exactly as before -
Those sights - those sounds and smells unchanged, as in the days of yore.
The lads we left on Flanders fields escaped life‘s toils and tears
While we are growing older with the passing of the years.
Still we see ourselves as we used to be [you know I speak the truth]
Not grey - headed blighters like you and me, But Youth! Glorious Youth!
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