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.