The Labour Company

Only a British Tommy,
One of a Labour mob;
Unfit to carry a rifle,
But ready for any job

Up in the morning early,
Cheerfully doing his bit;
Filling a waggon or trolley,
Using a spade or pick.

Shells for the boys in the trenches,
He works away with a will,
For he knows the boys will thank him,
And Fritz will foot his bill.

Not much honour and glory,
But he works in the danger zone,
With his old tin hat and his gas bag,
As a guard from danger unknown

And when the war is over,
And the labourer’s work is done,
His grateful country will thank him,
Although he was not Al.

Pte. W Hingley (Denaby Main)