I. THE COMMAND

To his crack army corps, 'twas the Kaiser who spoke :
By Bavarians bold must the British be broke.
'Tis the hope of my heart they may meet you but once,
To let the world see how Meinheer Atkins runs.
So fill up your cups with Bavarian beer,
Of contemptible armies the road you must clear.
Then go for the British and show me some sport
Wipe them out of existence, and send your report.'

II. THE REPORT

' We met,
'Twas in a crowd,
And we thought they would shun us.
We stormed ;
They would not budge,
But they started to gun us.

They charged,
We did not wait,
There was no time to potter.
We thought
We were hot stuff,
But the Tommies were hotter.

We're nabbed ;
They've got us tight,
And we're sadder and wiser,
And you
Are the cause
Of this anguish, my Kaiser.'

The Knitting Song

SOLDIER lad, on the sodden ground,
Sailor lad on the seas,
Can't you hear a little clicketty sound
Stealing across on the breeze?
It's the knitting-needles singing their song
As they twine the khaki or blue,
Thousands and thousands and thousands strong,
Tommy and Jack, for you.

Click -- click -- click,
How they dart and flick,
Flashing in the firelight to and fro!
Now for purl and plain,
Round and round again,
Knitting love and luck in every row.

The busy hands may be rough or white,
The fingers gouty or slim,
The careful eyes may be youthfully bright,
Or they may be weary and dim,
Lady and workgirl, young and old,
They've all got one end in view,
Knitting warm comforts against the cold,
Tommy and Jack, for you.

Knitting away by the midnight oil,
Knitting when day begins,
Lads, in the stress of your splendid toil,
Can't you hear the song of the pins?
Clicketty, click -- through the wind and the foam
It's telling the boys over there
That every 'woolly' that comes from home
Brings a smile and a hope and a prayer.

Click -- click -- click,
How they dart and flick,
Flashing in the firelight to and fro!
Now for purl and plain,
Round and round again,
Knitting love and luck in every row.

Marching To Germany

Swing along together, lads ; we'll have a little song,
Kits won't be so heavy and the way won't be so long.
We're goin' to cook ' the Sossiges,' to cook 'em hot and strong
While we go marching to Germany.

Chorus

Hurrah, hurrah, for Berlin on the Spree !
Hurrah, hurrah, there's 'Sossiges' for tea!
We're out to catch the Kaiser and bring him to his knee
While we go marching to Germany.

How the girls all love us as they see us marching by!
Some of them are saucy ones, and some of them are shy.
Guess they know we're cold and wet to keep them warm and dry
While we go marching to Germany.

Chorus

What about the slacker chaps, who look before they leap?
Lads who like to save their skins and have their proper sleep
Let them put on petticoats and feel a little cheap,
While we go marching to Germany.

Chorus

Britain's little Army can be swept away like fluff;
That's the Kaiser's fairy tale ice we'll give the beggars snuff ;
Rattle 'em and bustle 'em, and make 'em shout 'Enough!'
While we go marching to Germany.

Chorus

Hurrah, hurrah, for Berlin on the Spree!
Hurrah, hurrah, there's 'Sossiges' for tea!
We're out to catch the Kaiser and to bring him to his knee,
While we go marching to Germany.