Punitive Expedition poem

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tracey46236

This poem I found amoungst my GG things.

I’VE DONE MY BIT ON THE BORDER

I’ve done my bit on the Border,
I’m in God’s country again.
I’ve had my fill of the Border,
Of Greasers and Border men.
I’ve eaten the dirt of Texas,
I’ve drank of the Rio Grande,
I’ve grubbed mesquite in the cursed heat,
(The Lord never made this land!)
I’ve seen all there is on the Border,
I’ve felt all there is to feel.
I’ve done my time in a sea of slime,
I’ve lost all they didn’t steal.

I’ve done my bit on the border,
At Brownsville and Llano Grande
I’ve hiked and sweat in the heat and wet
From Pharr to the end of the land
I’ve done the camps at Mercedes,
At Donna and San Benite.
I’ve lain in the dust and gnawed a crust
At Funston’s judgment seat,
I’ve eaten my meals with reptiles.
I’ve quartered with bugs galore-
In a land where things all are made with stings,
From the trees to the rug on the floor
I’ve dug in the blasted trenches,
The air was a hundred Hells-
I’ve charged in the jungle cactus,
To the music of rebel yells.

I’ve carried a pack in the jungle,
Till it cut me down to the blood,
I’ve sweltered and lay like a thing of clay,
In a slithering swamp of mud.
I’ve risen at five in the morning
At the sound of reveille
I’ve slaved all day for a new boy’s pay
Till the nite would set me free.
I’ve lived the life of a soldier,
No chance to “beat it” or shirk-
And the life of a soldier, believe me,
Is little but damned hard work.

I’ve eaten the food of a soldier,
Hardtack and Mulligan stew,
Bacon and beans-and a touch of greens---
But, Lord, they were scarce and few!
I’ve followed the flag of my country
In khaki and plain O.D.
And up to date I’m standing straight
In a way that is good to see.
I’ve done my bit on the Border,
I’ve had my fill of the same:
But I wouldn’t trade the friends I’ve made
For all I’ve lost in the game.

I’ve had my fill of the Border,
Of Greasers and Border men,
I’ve done my bit and I stand to quit,
And never take on again.
But I seem to know when the bugles blow
And I hear the reveille,
That my blood will heat and my pulses beat
No matter where I may be,
And I’ll yearn to go---with a burning yearn
That only the soldier feels:
To slave and sweat in the heat and wet,
To straighten and click my heels.
But I’ve done my bit on the Border.
And now, thank God, I’m free---
Altho’ I know, when the bugles blow
They’ll have a call for me…

W. A. Graham, Capt. Third Iowa Infantry, Comd’g Co. B.
Trooper
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Joined: Wed Dec 13, 2000 7:49 pm
Last Name: Farrington

Tracey,
Thanks for sharing.
I love the line
"...In a land where things all are made with stings,..."
- clearly very different from Iowa and a long way from home.
Dusan
Couvi
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Posts: 1236
Joined: Tue Oct 30, 2001 9:30 am

From some unknown 19th Century bard came the statement that;
“<b><i>Everything out West either bites, stings scratches or digs holes!</i></b>”

Couvi

<i>"Cavalier san Cheval"</i>
Pat Holscher
Society Member
Posts: 7553
Joined: Thu Nov 30, 2000 6:51 pm
Last Name: Holscher

Bumped up in light of the centenary of the commencement of the Punitive Expedition on March 9.
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