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[Page 63]

with the boshes before;
You dare not disturb it, though "it" looks a mess,
At whats underneath we just tremble and guess.

When you walk on the surface you raise such a dust,
And to use your gas helmet you certainly must,
It may make you cough and make misty your eyes, As you lay neath your great coat and study the skies,

Why our dugout's a palace, though Fritz oer the way
Sends us "Iron Rations" which we haste to repay;
At least we are free from the

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