Our Soldier Boy
By Alan L. Strang
Written as a tribute to my brother, W. M. Strang, with the Engineers.
He said, "I'm Daddy's soldier boy,"
When he was five years old;
And then went out and built snow forts,
Although the day was cold.
The snowballs were his hand grenades,
A stick his bayonette;
And with a home-made wooden gun
The foe he bravely met.
In five more years he joined the "scouts"
And hiked across the hills;
He learned to wear a khaki suit,
And do military drills.
And so the years passed swiftly on,
And now he is a man;
He's in the trenches over there,
Fighting for Uncle Sam.
I know he'll make the Huns regret
They started this big fight,
For he knows the cause he's fighting for
Is liberty and right.