GARRISON BLUES:

Gun Flash, Issue XI, 13 March 1943, Page 2

GARRISON BLUES:

I h^ e.this ruddy harbour, ? deroost this blasted port, I think my nearest neighbour, A lewd fellow of the basest sort. The guns are .silly children’s The food is just hard tack, The camp a home for wayward boys, I’ve a black dog on my back. The searchlights give the feeblest beam, No earthly use to the watch. Tn fact we’d get a better gleam, From a twopenny Woolworth’s torch, The M.T. rattles, bumps and roars, Everu nut seems slack, Just a pile of rowdy junk, I’ve a black dog on my back. The phones are just too crazy, Signals a damn side worse, H.Q is far too lazy, The O o C. far too terse, The beds provide me with less sleep, Than an inquisition rack, Although I’ve counted countless sheep, I’ve a black dog on my back. The barrack rooms are beehives, Fill of useless drones, The NCOS like fishwives, haggling over bones. The quarters are like animal lair But give everything its dues, I may be jaundiced by my cares, For live got those Garrison Blues.