They told me that the Army was a joy for evermore;
They told me of the pleasures I'd have in it by the score;
They told me of its comforts and the jolly life I'd lead,
But by thunder they have fooled me and I'm sorrowful indeed--
I ever joined the Army.
They told me of the polished boots and the buttons bright I'd wear,
And of the splendid things I'd find upon the bill-of-fare;
But never a word they told me in the fine recruiting shop,
Of hoeing weeds upon the roads, or hauling out the slops--
When I joined the Army.
They told me of the pleasant hours, away from every care,
I could spend when not on duty, in town or anywhere;
But a thing they never told me is the punishment they'd mete
Out to a luckless rookie who went absent from retreat--
In Uncle Samuel's Army.
They told me of the canteen, where good lager beer is sold,
And of the fine post hospital, that cures all kinds of colds;
But a hint about the guard-house they never to me gave,
That skeleton they kept hidden as though buried in a grave--
Until I joined the Army.
They showed me good looking chromos of good looking soldier men,
With little V's upon their sleeves and hats they shone like tin;
But there is one uncanny picture they never to me showed
Of a soldier with a knapsack, and he hitting up the road--
In the U. S. Army.
They told me of the nice soft bunk, made out of woven wire,
Where I could lay my carcass, whenever my bones would tire;
But a whisper of the pick and shovel was never to me told,
So I'm pondering o'er my contract, and I think I was sold--
When I came into Uncle's Army.
They told me of the non-coms, who knew a soldier's worth,
Who made the Army jolly, a place of endless mirth;
But not a word they told me of the amount of beer I'd buy,
Just to keep a "stand in" with those that rank up high--
In Sammy's splendid Army.
They told me of the bill-of-fare that changed with every day,
And when landed in the Army for thirty years I'd stay;
But not a word they told me (No wonder they were mum),
About the stuff they feed us, commonly known as "Slum"--
In our conquering Army.
It is hinted that experience of all others is the school,
Where common sense alone is learned, by him that plays the fool;
And though I hate the medicine, I must take it with a will,
And keep convincing myself, it does me good--
It's time to leave the Army.