Cairns Post (Qld. : 1909 - 1954), Friday 16 November 1917, page 7


THE DINK Y-DI SOLDIER.

[The Sole Property of Ernest Lauri.]

The sargint ses "Laddie, you don

dungarees !

For th' life of a soldier is freedom

an' ease,

(Tho' there's plenty to get there is

little to do,

An' there's mountains o' tucker an'

oceans o' stoo,

Warm blankets at night, an enj-yable

day,

A nobleman's life, an' a gentleman's

pay,—

Be a sport, an' a dinky-di soldier!"

A c'obber ses "Dicken ! You're gone in

the block !

If you go to the front you'll be takin'

th' knock.

You fight f'r yer country, yer King,

an' yer flag !

W'y, you can't fight yer way thro' a

brown-paper bag!

I'd like t' see you try to 'andle a gun, 'Struth! You can't 'it a 'aystack, an'

much less a 'Un!

You're a squib, not a dinky-di sol-

dier !"

"On the 'edge!" ses me tabby, "it's no

good t' me!

You'd get shook on some Frenchie, a

tart of Paree.

Ain't there pitchers, an' darnces, an'

parks of a night?

Are y' full up o' me that you're burs-

tin' to fight?"

But I tells 'er to nark it, I knows its

my job,

An' I lines up nex' day with some

more o' the mob.

An' they makes me a dinky-di sol-

dier!

So now I'm route-marchin', an' ump-

in' me pack

Till th' weight o' me kit gives me

corns on the back,

An' I feels like a camel,—I've got all

'is thirst!—

An' me feet is so swelled that me

boots nearly burst;

Me lamp's full o' gravel, I'm crook at

the knee.

An' I'm smothered in goods like

damn C'ris'mas tree,—

In fact, I'm a dinky-di soldier.

No work! You're at yakker as soon a

it's light,

You mus' graft all the day an' do

guard all th' night;

If you ain't peelin' spuds, there's ye

rifle t' clean,

Woodchoppin' and trenchin', an' drill

in- between !

Tho' you're booked f'r line picket an'

galley fatigue

Still you mustn't go crook, an' you

daren't renege.

It's the luck of a dinky-di soldier !

But th' chaplain 'e mags w'en we're

on church parade,

'Ow the bloke 'oo won't fight is

base renegade;

An' 'e mentions th' pathway o' dooty

is clear,

An' ses justice an' honor is things to

revere,

An' 'e kids us we're men. 'oo's been

put to the test—

Until, dinkum, 'e makes a bloke chuck

out 'is chest

An' be glad 'e's a dinky-di-soldier !