The night of the bayonet
the night of the bayonet
The night was filled with dark and cold,
When Sergeant Talbert the storyÂ’s told,
Pulled out his poncho and headed out,
To check the lines dressed like a Kraut.
Upon a trooper our hero came,
Fast asleep; he called his name.
“Smith, oh Smith, get up, it’s time
To take your turn out on the line.”
Private Smith, so very weary,
Cracked an eye, all red and bleary,
Grabbed his rifle and did not tarry,
Hearing Floyd, but seeing Jerry.
“It’s me!” cried Tab. “Don’t do it!” and yet,
Smith charged toute de suite with a bayonet.
He lunged, he thrust, both high and low,
And skewered the boy from Kokomo.
And as they carried him away,
Our punctured hero was heard to say,
“When in this war you venture out,
best never do it dressed as a Kraut!”
