Nil Bastardum Carborundum
Nil bastardum carborundum.
Don't ever let 'em grind you down.
Rotten molars can't chew pablum,
Though equipped with a golden crown.
Indisposed to take any guff From bully boys and the likes of Billy Goat Gruff Hens' teeth cannot nibble away—
Long gone now, unlike bastardums,
Quibbling on in any old way,
Like numskull dimwitted dumdums.
That cot cover's not tight as a drum.
Those shoes are not shined up with spit...
Nit-picking: a really small soul's hocum—
For that you will demerits git...
Details...Allow no ifs or buts...
Enforce every niggling nuisance, men
Will know that they're your subordinates.
Be lax and, oh, what sad sacks then!
Our looie's nickname was "School Boy,"
Had no more horse sense than a cow.
Inspired by gunfire and hellfire,
Though, a little sense he could acquire.
Pssst, Sandy, "What'll we do now?"
So two cents worth of sense he had—
The brains to know who had know-how,
Else things woulda been far worse than bad!
Our first day in combat, far out
At the front of the front, a Kraut
Us charging with fixed bayonet...
Green us, behind the ears still wet!
Too new to know that all in sight
Would get blown down right to the ground.
We wised up fast and day and night
Hugging the dirt we would be found.
Oh, what misery, when our lust
Was earth that cost us not a buck.
All hail, all praise to dirt and dust,
To keep us dry and out of muck.
Our General Mac one day came out,
Side by side with us at the front.
That he had guts we did not doubt
Yet dared brashly him to affront
"General," I said, "it's freezing cold.
To warm you up I'd light a fire,
But the Heinies would make so bold
As to set this here house afire.
The sight of smoke would stoke reflex
Actions in Kraut artillerymen,
Who'd blast this house 'n us into
Bits of thither and yon and then
The promotion that is your due
Would go to someone else, not you."
"To hell with that, soldier!" he spat.
"You dishonor me suggesting that."
So which Mac was it?, McAulliffe!
Not Macnamara, McArthur,
Motors, Electric, Armchair, Mills,
Kowledge, Wisdom, or Blather...
The Hero of Bastogne, old "Blood
And Guts" himself, who told 'em "Nuts!"
Anthony dubya McAulliffe'd
Bash 'n smash 'em and kick their butts!
I myself was south of that spot
Back then where at the same time an
Other battle of the bulge was fought.
Farther to the south, a vital plan,
Unlike a lot who were half-cocked.
Nothing good able to concoct.
Useless as casks with no bung hole—
Yet some had ways we could extoll.
On the whole, or hole, not fat-arsed
Farces crapped out on a crapper,
In the head with heads up their...
Grounded bounders, drifting rafters.
Not flabby flubbers, lost losers,
Grubby lubbers, bloomin' idiots,
Born groaners, comatose cruisers,
Big-time bigots, noses in it.
Wacky slackers, freakin' freak-outs,
Fresh, bold hunks of humanity,
Tossed squalids, do nothin' copouts,
Dinky dinks, Lil Annie Sorry.
Pissed-off pinheads, creakin' creatures,
Boozy bozos, rickety Ricks,
Misplaced faith, blustering bruisers,
A lot lower than higher jinks.
Bungling buggers, pig-headed swine,
Nutty nut cases in laces.
Friggin' finaglers, so volpine,
Windbag braggers, in your faces.
Ham-handed gamblers, aces high,
Unlike aces high in the sky,
Pin their hopes as cheats and fakers
On hopeless odds for fair gamers.
Blackjack was the greenhorn's nickname,
Experience: a neighbor organizer.
Neighborhood, not hood, was his game.
For himself a savvy pleader.
He was said to have charisma,
Quite so, defined as abysmal
Repetitious obfuscation.
Jack, oh, bummer, led the nation!
Blackjack O. loves to fly the flag,
Loves the military, but... uh...
Though not at all disposed to brag,
Four-star generals he's far above!
For us old dogfaces, swabbies
And flyboys, whose buddies, wounded,
Captured or killed—our memories
To their sacrifices attuned,
At all times, proud of their valor,
Loyalty and zeal to preserve
Our freedom, rights and way of life,
For others who no less deserve,
Unitedly, with all our power,
May all follow their great example.
Firm and resolute every dire hour,
Our tenacity and fortitude ever ample.
And our reward, dogfaces all?
Fame and recognition? We won,
Barely survived, what a close call!
Got some battle stars a ribbon,
The supreme reward so treasured now,
Forever plus a day and how!
A trophy choicer than gold metal,
A pretty pretty-good conduct medal.
A bonus: (To the tune of "If I knew you were coming, I'dve baked a cake)
If I knew you were coming, I
Woulda faked an ache, faked an ache.
If I knew you were coming, I
'Da shown you a scary rictus.
Where fake an ache? I will tell you.
Ear, stomach, heart, neck, tooth and back
Is where. Come here out of the blue
And—no faking at all—I'll hack,
Cough, sneeze, sniffle, scratch, whimper, bleed.
Doesn't get your full attention?
You will wish you had paid more heed!
What you'll get's too sad to mention.
Words: Wendell Hall
Tune: Anonymous from internet
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