“EEP” of Badsey – better known we believe in that district as Ernest – sends us the following verses from Salonica, where he says, he and his comrades are quite happy and smiling:
There’s a little place out East called Salonique,
Where they’re sending British Tommies every week
When you view it from the sea
It’s a fine sight I’ll agree
And you think you’ll have a spree at Salonique.
When you’re dumped upon the quay at Salonique,
And the smell that meets you there seems to speak.
You begin to feel quite glum,
And to wish you had not come,
For there’s every kind of “hum” at Salonique.
There are nations not a few at Salonique,
But at present it belongs to Mr Greek.
He’s a wily sort of guy.
Doesn’t want to fight. For why?
Perhaps he’s like the Yankees – shy so to speak.
The languages you hear at Salonique
Are as many as the hours in a week;
And if Tommy only knew
Just the swear words of a few
The air would soon turn blue at Salonique.
There are lots of little camps round Salonique,
Filled with French and British Tommies hard as teak
And the Kaiser and his pack
Will find when we attack
There’s a nut he cannot crack at Salonique.
Just a word or two in closing, Mr Greek;
You have treated us as guests at Salonique;
And if you regret we came
And our vires are not the same
Well! It isn’t you to blame, Mr Greek.
If you want to stay a neutral mild & meek,
That is your affair, not ours, Mr Greek;
But whatever you’re about
We know you’ll help to shout
When we’ve wiped the Germans at Salonique.