The Invisible Man
by
Cyril Fletcher
When Fred, in battledress arrayed,
Appeared upon his first parade, 
The sergeant said, ' Well, me beauty,
You're down for camouflage duty.
Be careful of this paint, don't spill it,
Now go and camouflage your billet.'
But private Fred was somewhat rash,
It tempted him to make a splash.
He slapped it here and slapped it there,
As if he simply didn't care.
And made, I tremble to confess,
An absolute, gosh-awful mess.
And when the spread chaos he spied,
The angry sergeant nearly died.
'You so and so', cried sergeant Relf,
'Now go and camouflage yourself!'...
Fred baled before the sergeant bold,
And neatly did as he was told.
So always willing to obey,
He camouflaged himself away.
Thus, Fred was never seen again,
And every evening, after ten.
A strange phenoem is seen,
To monhappen in the wet canteen.
A pint pot on the bar will stand,
And quite untouched by human hand,
Will rise aloft to unseen lips,
And disappear in silent sips.
'That's Fred!, the old sweats sadly say,
'What camouflaged himself away.'
But camouflaged it as he will,
He's here with us in spirit, still.
And though we cannot see his face,
His stomach's in the proper place. 
The end