|
|
|
|
|
|
SOLDIER'S SONNET-LETTER When I come home to you again, what things Will you have remembered, what things forgot?- Eager walks in the cool, soft rain of springs, Winter snows holding four footprints they caught; Woods we strolled, hand in hand, in leisure hours, Flashing streams so often we've lain beside, Dreams we dreamed-tall, stable Ivory Towers We built (flimsy things) against Time's strong tide; Familiar cafes, people, streets, and trees, Books and Shows enjoyed, music heard together- Will you remember how we dwelt on these Or do such things pass with time as weather? When I come home to you again, what things Will you have recalled, what things forgot forever? - Pvt. Charles Delmar Emery |
"TEARS IN THE NIGHT" (To the tune of Blues in the Night and dedicated to all the Fair Maidens of India) Your mother's done told you, When you were a little girl, Your mother's done told you, child, "A Yank is some big eyes He'll give you the big talk And though that big talk is mild A Yank is a no good, a hell of a guy, Who'll leave you to cry, in the night. Hear that "Line" he's giving, Hear those lies he is telling, Please don't believe him! See those eyes he's making, See those hearts he's breaking, He's only fooling! He's dreaming, he's scheming, Of hearts he can break, Of girls he can make, like you. From Karachi to Assam, From Delhi to Madras, Wherever the Yankee goes, He'll tell you he's lonely, He'll call you his 'only,' But take it from one who knows, A Yankee's a two faced, A two-timing guy, Who'll leave you to cry, in the night. - S/Sgt. Jimmy D. Dunlap |
AN AIR CORP EXILE'S LAMENT I'm sick of the Black and Tartar I am sick of the Hausa, Malsy And far away spots on the chart are No place for yours truly to stay. I've had of undersized chicken And milk that comes out of a can The last is no region to stick in For this one particular man. I am weary of curry and rice All mingled with highly spiced dope I am weary of bathing with lysol And washing with carbolic soap. I am tired of itch and spin diseases Mosquitoes and vermin and flies I am fed up with the tropical breezes And sunshine that dazzles your eyes To eat without fear of infection To sleep without using a net And throw away all my collection Of iodine, quinine, et cet. To hear all the noise and the clamor The hurry and fret of the west I'd trade all of the Orient Glamour That poor lying poets suggest. They sing of the East as enthralling That is why I started to roam But I hear the Occident calling Oh Lord I want to go home. - Pfc. Robert L. Looney |
KEPT IN TRIM - The fighter planes of the China Air Task Force must be kept in perfect condition at all times, because they seem to be almost constantly in the air. Working on the ships are Sgt. Ramon Weiss, Corp. Edgar J. Pearson, M/Sgt. R. P. Rasmussen (formerly with the AVG), and Sgt. R. E. Dearnin. |
ONCE-OVER LIGHTLY - You don't need a barber chair nor a Police Gazette to get a rapid shave in India as Pfc. Edward Jankowski demonstrates. |
|
|
|
|