ODE TO THE WAR DOG

Smoking me pipe in the kennels,
Breathing the morning fog,
I walk in me ‘ole grey denims,
Along o’ me old grey dog.
There’s the rest of the dog lads around me,
And never a beggar forgets,
That it’s only the pick of the army,
That handles the dear little pets.

At night we go out on the Depot,
In the daytime we grooms and we feeds,
We change the bedding and water,
And puts soap on their collars and leads.
It’s worse if you run like the w-gs,
You can hide in the tents,
You can crawl through the fence,
But you can’t get away from WAR DOGS.

"SPIKE"
Sgt Lockyer R.A.V.C.