History of the
American Field Service in France
"FRIENDS OF FRANCE", 1914-1917, TOLD BY ITS MEMBERS
You may talk about your voitures The paint is not so good, Oh, it's Din, Din, Din. After all the wars are past, Yes, Tin, Tin, Tin, C. C. BATTERSHELL, S.S.U. 13 |
WHENEVER the topics of talk run low, LANSING WARREN, S.S.U. 70 |
AT last the perfect resort has been found, No "Belgian Relief" or "Orphan Days" War news, autocracies, a peace that is just, They've never been fooled by the popular craze ROBERT A. DONALDSON, |
THE war has developed a singular art, By similar process my lady dips L. W., |
The war is for "morals" we often
are told, When up at the front on some duty or other. When your tools are all taken, you do not
report it, R. A. D., |
I'VE taken my Fords as I've found them,
I was a young 'un at Verdun. Then we got shifted to Soissons. Then we got jumped to Jubécourt. Then we got hopped to Mont-sans-Nom, And now, as I'm sitting, and dreaming, SHERMAN L. CONKLIN, |
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WHEN I hear the high-pitched singing When I hear the motor humming, When I have chanced to find a dud S. C. DOOLITTLE, |
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You can travel all along the line, at any
poste you please, It may be that the wood is wet, or that the flue can't function, S. L. C., |
TIME was, when I honestly longed for the
day At first I was keen to be risking my life -- It was not long ago that I used to have hopes L. W., |
I'VE been roosting over where When everything you see You tote a gun and pack, You must live on rancid grub, If you're like the cheerful French For there is no more to tell L. W., |
AROUND our barracks stove at night All discipline that's ever tried Around our stove we make a fuss You'd think a crowd of anarchists L. W., |
AMERICA is putting forth An English-speaking Frenchman o'er The Tommy in his billets read The old determined U.S.A. R. A. D., |
SAYS the man engaged in business While the army clerk in Paris, And his former comrade grumbles Then his car rolls by some cannon And the dirty, frozen poilu, While the stalwart shock divisions, But the curse goes even further; So, although you're quite heroic, B. C. WOHLFORD, |
THERE'S no fit word of any tongue, It's a fearful kind of lassitude For a man with blood and willing, His thoughts turn back to his homeland,
When there's work he's well contented,
A rumor starts him kicking, But send him out on the road again He's happy and he's well content, To keep your men all happy. R. MORRISON YOUNG, |
No, I don't believe W. E. POWERS, |
THE annoyances of a soldier are supposed,
in civil life, They're nothing new, these pesterers of honest soldier folk, All, all are here --- they're mobilized "to help to win
the war," R. A. D., |
A TANGLED mess of shirts and socks, L. W., |
Is this the face that launched a
thousand ships? L. W., |
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WHEN you join the Ambulance En repos! En repos! When the blessés come in
thick, En repos! En repos! There's a line of trenches stretching R. A. D., |
"WHY were you a private You'll some day bite on marriage, R. A. D., |
IN a little French street, wandering from
the river to the gare, In that little old buvette, Oh, their cognac, it was yaller, and their Chartreuse it was
green, In that little old buvette, There so often in the evenings, in that cheery atmosphere, In that little old buvette, Oh, I'm sick of wasting money on this blasted temperance stuff
. In that little old buvette, Ship me somewhere far from sodas, where the best is like the
worst, In that little old buvette, D. W. S., |
I GOT it from Headquarters, We will have a week in Paris, Then they'll put us on a steamer Discharge in France will be arranged Pay for six months from discharge, AN OPTIMIST |
I ENLISTED as a private I recently made up my mind I thought instead of leaving They say a change in sentiment's L. W., |
Blow, blow, thou winter
wind, Thou art not so unkind As man's ingratitude. . . ............................Shakespeare |
AU REVOIR, old F. S. uniform Yet I somehow hate to part with you I paid a goodly sum for you, So you've done your duty ever since All winter you did stoutly keep Yet somehow I can't figure why Au revoir --- and yet in parting R. A. D., |
I Am a Sergeant, P. A. RIE, |
OH, I sit in my tiny voiture, For I've seen my fill of the war zone, But there was a time, to my knowledge, 'T was a great, wide life, and a free one, They were days when we roamed unmolested, They can take away our cherished rights But there's one thing that I still can keep B. C. W., |
AH, faded garments of so long ago, L. W., |
1. The Field Service coat, which was built upon a snappy, natty model, was rigorously prohibited for men who enlisted in the U.S.A. Army, although army uniforms of appropriate sizes could not be issued for some time thereafter.
2. Amid the dust piles of an ancient cinema on rue Raynouard were stored boxes and bags of the volunteers. "Give up clothes all ye who enter here." was mentally inscribed above its portals.
Literature of the Field Service: End of the War Sketches and Verses