The Young Vets.

We all know the face of the chap who can tell     How he led the victorious van,     Through whose terrible yell all the enemy fell     Or fled from this murderous man.     We all know the pate of the chap who was late,     Too late for a wound or a scar,     A year or two late for a soldierly fate,     And twenty too late for the war.     We all know the voice of Goliah the Great,     Who never smelt powder, you know,     Who came to the field of battle too late     To give little David a show.     We all know the tale of the chap who delights     To tell all the girls he can find     Of the terrible sights, of the feuds and the fights,     That he fought in the depths of his mind.     On a Century Map, we all know the chap     Who can trace his proud place without fear,     Who claims the drum-tap found him first in the gap,     Though he skulked forty miles in the rear.