AUXILIARY SAM AND SUPPLIES
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.
"Don't worry," said Sam, bright and cheerful
"I know... I'll submit for some Rag."
So Sam made his way to the Watchroom
And gets Local Sub. on the phone
And fully explained the position
And how all the beards had been grown.
The Sub., he expressed his deep interest
And said he'd come round right away;
But maybe he took the wrong turning...
He turned up three weeks to the day.
By now, of course, Sam too had fungus
Agrowing all over his face...
His face once as smooth as a baby's
Though it looked like a different place.
The Sub. quite agreed that the Mirror
Could do with a bit of a clean;
Suggested the Regular Station...
Officer'd better be seen.
Another month passed nice and quiet-like
Before he arrived at the, dump...
By now Sam's beard caught in the suction.
And played Hell's Delight with the Pump.
This gentleman studied the question
And gave it the thought it deserved,
Offered congrats. on Sam's whiskers
And manner in which they'd preserved.
He said he would take up the matter,
Submit for some Rag from the Stores...
But, meantime, he'd borrow the broom
As Sam's whiskers could sweep up the floors.
Then off he dashed back to his Station
Determined to act straight away
And getting down next year's Calendar,
He made mental note for next May.
Eventually news reached the Super
Who to the occasion arose
And after six months indecision,
Passed on the facts to D.O.s.
And they got in touch with the fellow
The whole Darn'd Brigade must salute...
The bloke that one half wants to murder
And t'other half wishes to shoot.
And he was a man of swift action:
He would have done something 'toute suite'
But as it is Autumn he's busy
Sweeping up leaves from his Peak.
The Winter it come and it vanished
And Sam of his beard had grown fond:
He wore it in now sort of fashion...
Tucked up the back of beyond.
Then one night he sat in the Watchroom,
Assetting his whiskers with Foam,
When Buzzer gave rude sort of rumble
And Home Office came on the phone,
"We've got you some Rag, Sam," they told him.
Said Sam with a sinister croak,"
If you've got some rag... you can keep it!"
The ruddy darn'd Mirror is broke!"