The Lost Buddy
(from: Ballads Of The AEF)
Peace doesn't mean the same to me
As it would-yesterday;
Me and my buddy'd planned to be
Life pardners, all the way.
We thought we'd start a little shop
After this bloody show,
After the guns came to a stop--
But now it can't be so.
I'm used to seein' comrades fall
About me, eberywhere;
I liked 'em and I missed 'em all,
But muttered: " C'est la guerre."
It was the price that must be paid
By men who take a chance
In this great game of death that's played
Upon the soil of France.
But this is different; my friend
Fell in last night's attack.
To-day the war is at an end,
But that won't bring him back;
His life was lost in vain, for peace
Was on the way. His blood,
Mingled with rains that never cease,
Seeps through the Flanders mud.
So while the others cheer the news
Of peace, I curse at Fate;
My buddy's underneath this ooze,
His life was spent--too late.
There is no chance, nor will there be,
To make the Huns repay;
Peace doesn't mean the same to me
As it would yesterday.
---
