Item 01: Oliver Hogue letters, November 1914-29 December 1915 - Page 181

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Page

Transcription

[Page 181]

My Dug out

1
Theres a hole cut in the hill
Thats my dugout
And somehow I fear no ill
In my dug out
While the cannons roar like thunder
Parapets are rent asunder
I just duck and snuggle under  
In my dugout

2
For I'm safe both day & night
In my dugout
Tho'  I feel a troglodite
In my dugout
Still it pays you to take care
When there's murder in the air
For its close to Sari Bair
Is  my dugout.

3
Now & then the bullets zip
In my dugout
But I never get the pip
In my dugout.
For it soon becomes a habit
Just to burrow like a rabbit
If a sand-bags near I  grab it
For my dugout.

  

  

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