Lyr. Add: The Greasy Army Cooks
Pvt James E. Dimond, Company F (WW1)

An army marches on its stomach,
Napoleon often said.
The old boy knew whereof he spoke,
They claim he had some head.
You may not like our lingo,
You may not like our looks,
And yet you cannot do without
The greasy army cooks.

Now I'm a cook myself, you know,
And sometimes feel quite blue.
Perchance I may have scorched or burnt
The greasy army stew.
Remember, boys! it's not like home!
When you are in the field,
And I might add it's hard work
To get the murphys peeled.

Sometimes the K. P.'s are O. K.
And other times they're not.
Why then we blame the rotten fire
If things are never hot.
Of course you'd like more sugar, too,
And undiluted cream,
But Uncle Sam says, "No, Sirree."
Don't make the eagle scream!

At times the meat is tender,
And then again it's tough.
By heck! that old Wyoming steer
Is not such tasty stuff!
The sap who made the first hardtack
A dentist's friend was he.
I'd like to shoot him in the pants
And laugh aloud with glee.

"Canned Willie," too, I'd like to can
From off our bill of fare,
For Uncle Sam was "full of prunes"
The time he put it there.
Go easy with the sugar, boys,
These words I hate to say;
We left the sweetness all behind,
I guess, in U. S. A.

This war is going to be fought
As much with food as guns.
And we will surely help you, boys,
To beat those crazy Huns.
You may not like our lingo,
You may not like our looks,
And yet we know we'll lick les Boches,
We greasy army cooks.

Error in previous post where this verse was ascribed to Pvt. Winterich.
From Songs from the Trenches,...," reference above.