I sing this to Auld Lang Syne.....words as I remember them by Kipling..

The garden called Gethsemane in Picardy it was
And there the people came to see the English soldiers pass

We used to pass we used to pass or halt as it may be
And ship our masks in case of gas beyond Gethsemane

The garden called Gethsemane it held a pretty lass
And all the time I talked with her I prayed my cup would pass

The officer sat in a chair the men sat on the grass
And all the while we lingered there I prayed my cup would pass

It did not pass it did not pass it did not pass from me
I drank it when we met the gas beyond Gethsemane