Part 01: Alan Fraser Fry letters, 8th August 1914- 28 January 1917 - Page 265
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[Page 265]
[printed poem]
To a false Patriot
(By Sir Owen Seaman, in London "Punch"
He came, obedient to the call;
He might have shirked like half his mates,
Who, while their comrades fight and fall,
Still go to swell the football gates.
And you, a patriot in your prime,
You waved a flag above his head,
And hoped he'd have a high old time,
And slapped him on the back and said:
"You'll show 'em what we British are!
Give us your hand, old pal, to shake:"
And took him round from bar to bar-
And made him drunk – for England's sake.
That's how you helped him. Yesterday,
Clear-eyed and earnest, keen and hard,
He held himself the soldier's way –
And now they got him under guard.
That doesn't hurt you; you're all right;
Your easy conscience takes no blame;
But he, poor boy, with morning's light,
He eats his heart out, sick with shame.
What's that to you? You understand
Nothing of all his bitter pain;
You have no regiment to brand;
You have no uniform to stain.
No vow of service to abuse,
No pledge to King and country due;
But he had something dear to lose,
And he has lost it – thanks to you.
[Transcriber's notes:
Page 5 – Guadalanar – is Guadalcanal
Page 103 – Port of Mecca – now Mocha]
[Transcribed by Donna Gallacher for the State Library of New South Wales]