Parade Song of the Camp Animals

Elephants of the Gun Teams

• We lent to Alexander the strength of Hercules,
• The wisdom of our foreheads, the cunning of our knees;
• We bowed our necks to service: they ne'er were loosed again,—
• Make way there—way for the ten-foot teams
• Of the Forty-Pounder train!

Gun Bullocks

• Those heroes in their harnesses avoid a cannon-ball,
• And what they know of powder upsets them one and all;
• Then we come into action and tug the guns again—
• Make way there—way for the twenty yoke
• Of the Forty-Pounder train!

Cavalry Horses

• By the brand on my shoulder, the finest of tunes
• Is played by the Lancers, Hussars, and Dragoons,
• And it's sweeter than "Stables" or "Water" to me—
• The Cavalry Canter of "Bonnie Dundee"!
• Then feed us and break us and handle and groom,
• And give us good riders and plenty of room,
• And launch us in column of squadron and see
• The way of the war-horse to "Bonnie Dundee"!

Screw-Gun Mules

• As me and my companions were scrambling up a hill,
• The path was lost in rolling stones, but we went forward still;
• For we can wriggle and climb, my lads, and turn up everywhere,
• Oh, it's our delight on a mountain height, with a leg or two to
• spare!
• Good luck to every sergeant, then, that lets us pick our road;
• Bad luck to all the driver-men that cannot pack a load:
• For we can wriggle and climb, my lads, and turn up everywhere,
• Oh, it's our delight on a mountain height, with a leg or two to
• spare!

Commissariat Camels

• We haven't a camelty tune of our own
• To help us trollop along,
• But every neck is a hair trombone
• (Rtt-ta-ta-ta! is a hair trombone!)
• And this our marching-song:
• Can't! Don't! Shan't! Won't!
• Pass it along the line!
• Somebody's pack has slid from his back, Wish it were only mine!
• Somebody's load has tipped off in the road—
• Cheer for a halt and a row!
• Urrr! Yarrh! Grr! Arrh!
• Somebody's catching it now!

All the beasts together

• Children of the Camp are we,
• Serving each in his degree;
• Children of the yoke and goad,
• Pack and harness, pad and load.
• See our line across the plain,
• Like a heel-rope bent again,
• Reaching, writhing, rolling far,
• Sweeping all away to war!
• While the men that walk beside,
• Dusty, silent, heavy-eyed,
• Cannot tell why we or they
• March and suffer day by day.
• Children of the Camp are we,
• Serving each in his degree;
• Children of the yoke and goad,
• Pack and harness, pad and load!