King’s Shilling

In 1914, took a little trip,

Along with all the others,

Down to see old Sergeant Jones,

Keen to sign on dotted slip.

It’s the infantry for you, A One,

So sign your name if willing,

And swear an oath on this little book

Before you get your shilling.

In 1915, took a little trip,

Along with all the others,

Down to see the busy docks,

Keen to sail on that old ship.

It’s off to old France for you, A One,

Ne’re mind those girls all thrilling,

You’re tied to Kitchener’s tight apron strings,

Now you’ve grasped your shilling.

In 1916, took a little trip,

Along with all the others,

Down to see the old Somme plain,

Keen to finally get to grip.

It’s over the top for you, A One,

Ready to do some killing.

You’re lucky to be in this big push,

It’s time to earn your shilling.

In 1917, took a little trip,

Along with some of the others,

Down to see old Menin road,

Set firm to give ‘em some gyp.

It’s through that foul mud for you, A One,

Must be in for a milling.

How long before we break ‘em for sure;

When will I earn that shilling?

In 1918, took a little trip,

Along with one of the others,

Down to see Arras in spring,

Needed to cover the rip.

It’s back to the wall for you, A One,

Forget you’re in a grilling.

Just fight and hold against their big push,

Twas you who took the shilling.

In 1918, took another little trip,

Along with none of the others,

Down to see a sight for sore eyes,

Determined to see ‘em turn flip.

It’s one-hundred days to laurels, A One,

Gaps in their line not filling,

Then back to the ship, old Blighty bound,

After earning that bloody King’s shilling!

© John Sales 2009