Into our camp, from far away,
Somebody's darling came one day--
Somebody's darling, full of grace,
Wearing yet on his youthful face,
Soon to be hid by a stubbly growth,
The fatted look of a life of sloth.
Thus to our camp, from far away,
Somebody's darling came one day.
Parted and oiled were the locks of gold,
Kissing the brow of patrician mould,
And pale as the Himalayan snows;
Spotlessly clean were his khaki clothes.
It was a cert', beyond any doubt,
Somebody's darling had just come out.
Wond'rous changes were quickly wrought.
Somebody's darling marched and fought.
Somebody's darling learned to shoot,
Somebody's darling loved to loot;
Somebody's darling learned to swear,
And neglected to part his hair.
After riding and marching weary leagues,
Somebody's darling was set on fatigues--
Set on fatigues for dreary hours,
Thinking of home, its fruits and flowers.
Somebody's darling's ideals were quashed;
Somebody's darling went unwashed.
Somebody's darling cussed sergeants big,
Somebody's darling killed a young pig:
Then dressed and trimmed it ready to eat,
First of many a butcherly feat;
Somebody's dear caring naught for looks,
Joined the army of amateur cooks.
Somebody's darling drank water muddy;
Somebody's darling saw men all bloody;
Somebody's darling heard bullets fly;
Somebody's darling saw comrades die;
Somebody's darling was playing the game,--
Thousands and thousands were doing the same.
Somebody's darling rose long before morn;
Somebody's darling went tattered and torn;
Somebody's darling longed for a bite,
Half-baked by day and frozen by night.
Somebody's darling received Mails sometimes,
And his joy was beyond my idle rhymes.
Somebody's darling was sniped one fierce day,
An ambulance jolted him far away;
Somebody's darling had got it bad,
Somebody at home would soon be sad.
Somebody's darling grew worse--then died.
And--that was the end of Somebody's Pride.