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[Page 36]
& a small tin of sardines between 2 men, 'how would you like a dinner like that" we had a little piece of poetry made up which all the Batts used to sing on the march it ran like this.
"The brigadeir gets turkey
The Colonel he gets duck
The officers get chicken
and think themselves in luck
the Sergeants get their belly full
we watched them through the wall
But all the poor old privates get's
Is one dry roll.
We used to bring all sorts of things in the last line, & some of them could scarce be repeated, this used to make the officers wild, but they never said anything.
At 1 oclock we would start work
again, & work constantly up till 4 oclock we would then march back to our parade ground, put on our packs form up, & then skirmish 3 out of the 4 miles home again, you can guess what kind of a state we would arrive in camp, our clothes would be absolutely wet with sweat, & the boots in spite of the heat would be wet with the sweat that had ran down you legs, your tongue would be hanging out, & most of the chaps in a state of exhaustion, just before the camp was reached our band would meet us, & play us into camp that would liven us up a bit you have no idea how music will make tired men straighten up & step out, there is one piece in particular, that I believe if men