BY J. HENRY, TROOPER IN LUMSDEN’S HORSE
The long campaign is over,
And we are homeward bound;
We think about what’s waiting us on shore:
Of the dâks at country stations,
Of the evenings in the club,
And the pleasures of a civy rig once more.
For the ration jam is sweet,
And the ‘bully’ beef is good,
And ‘Machonochie’ is nothing short of prime;
But give me, yes, oh, give me,
Oh, how I wish you would,
‘Moorghi’ cutlets and my peg at evening time.
We have often groused and grumbled,
But not a man would say
He’s sorry that he joined the good old corps;
And the longest marches seem now
But fair share of work and play,
When we know we’ve not to do them any more.
It really is annoying
When you march at break of day,
To find your moke has vanished from the line;
And you curse the stable picket,
And on your knees you pray
You may never see another ‘Argentine.’
We’re very near the finish,
And in a week or so
We will scatter over India, hill and plain;
But when two of us foregather,
’Mid the clouds of smoke we blow
We’ll follow-Colonel Lumsden once again.
Parent Category: Books
Category: Pearse: The history of Lumsden's Horse