Cpl Roman F. Klick 36620923
Co "A", 353rd Engr Regt
A.P.O. #502, c/o Postmaster
San Francisco, California
1 December 1943
Dear Aunty Clara, Here is another of those little poems about the Army which seems to strike the fancy of the fellows. With all the poems that I have been sending home by V-mail, we could have a little album entitled "A Humorous History of Life During World War II".
WE'VE DONE OUR HITCH IN HELL
I. I've been sitting here and thinking
of the joys I left behind;
I'd hate to put on paper
all the things that clog my mind.
We've dug a million ditches
and cleaned ten miles of ground,
and a meaner place upon this earth
is waiting to be found.
But there's one consolation,
listen closely while I tell
when we die we go to Heaven, ---
for we've done our hitch in Hell.
II. We built a million kitchens
for the cooks to stew our beans.
We've stood a million guard mounts
and cleaned the damn machines;
We've washed a million mess kits
and peeled a million spuds;
We've rolled a million bed rolls,
and we've washed the major's duds.
The number of parades we've stood
is mighty hard to tell,
but we'll parade in Heaven. ---
for we've stood our hitch in Hell.
III. We killed a million gnats and bugs
that scrambled on our eats,
we killed a hundred centipedes
that rooted in our sheets.
We marched a million miles
and made a thousand camps.
We've done fatigue and K.P.
dressed in our Sunday pants;
but when our work on earth is done,
our friends behind will tell.
"We know he went to Heaven, ---
for he's done his hitch in Hell".
IV. For when our life is ended
and we lay aside our cares,
we'll do our last parade
up the shining golden stairs.
The angels will welcome us
and harps will start to play,
we'll draw a million canteen books
and spend them in a day
and we'll hear St. Peter say,
with a loud and husky yell.
"Take a front seat, Soldier, ---
for you've done your hitch in Hell".
--- by George A. May