I have sweated in an August training camp,
That would make a prohibition town look damp,
Underneath my dinky cap
While the sun burned off my map
And I waited for some gold-fish (and a cramp!).

Get in line!
For rice, pay-day, pills, and ration,
For corned-willy, army fashion,
In Hoboken, in the trenches,
In a station with the Frenchies,
In a line.

I've been standing, freezing, sweating,
Pushing, shoving, wheezing, fretting,
And I won't be soon forgetting
Though I don't say I'm regretting
That I stood there, with my buddies,
In a line.

[Illustration: (soldiers in line in the rain)]


The Lids We Wear--
[Illustration: Dungaree style]
[Illustration: This tin derby with winter knitted helmet]
[Illustration: Old "rain-in-the-face"]
[Illustration: The charming red-and-white effect]
[Illustration: Fuzzy-wuzzy]