BILLETS.

Digger (Invercargill RSA), Issue 35, 12 November 1920, Page 1

BILLETS.

If we join the army, just to go and fight the Hun, And we work from early dawn to the setting of the sun, „ How we sigh with soft contentment when the mess is o'er, As we tramp along to our billets' welcome door. For a bath of pleasing temperature our kind attention waits, And then in sheets enfolded we can laugh at all th,e fates, Secure from shrapnel clattcr an.i tne high explosive shock, Till our soldier-servant wakes us with his cry of "Six o'clock." Not always thus we're billeted: the elements of chance Pervade fhat pleasant pastime known as "billeting in France" ; To-day we're in a chateau and tomorrow on a farm, A dug-out in the gun llne, or the Y.M.C.A.'s holy cairn. The house of village cures or with the local Mayor, An attic in a granary, wbich we and vermin share; Still we cannot help thinking, as our thoughts fly o'er the foam, Of the trueness of the saying that "There's no place like home. '