W. Montague Everitt
|| When Sam was called up for Full Service
And fury of War was let large,
At special request of Old 'Itler
He went to a Station... in charge.
And Sam was amazed when he noted
Each lad there was growing a beard.
He thought it unusual behaviour:
In fact, he considered it weird.
Next morning at dawn, on arising
He calls to a willing young slave
And bawls at him, "Show me a Mirror;"
Yer Hofficer wishes to shave."
Young lad hung his head in confusion
And answered just nothing at all,
But pointed a long dirty finger
To large greasy patch on the wall.
"That Mirror"? asked Sam with emotion
"All covered with grime and with dirt"?
Young lad, he concurred his agreement...
And then blew his nose on his shirt.
"There's nothing with which we can clean it,"
He howled like a newly born twin
"And that is me reason for growing
A beard on the end of me chin.
There's no means of seeing for shaving,"
He sighed with a sorrowful wag.