The General inspecting the trenches
Exclaimed with a horrified shout
'I refuse to command a division
Which leaves its excreta about.'
But nobody took any notice
No one was prepared to refute,
That the presence of shit was congenial
Compared to the presence of Shute.
And certain responsible critics
Made haste to reply to his words
Observing that his staff advisors
Consisted entirely of turds.
For shit may be shot at odd corners
And paper supplied there to suit,
But a shit would be shot without mourners
If somebody shot that shit Shute
Exclaimed with a horrified shout
'I refuse to command a division
Which leaves its excreta about.'
But nobody took any notice
No one was prepared to refute,
That the presence of shit was congenial
Compared to the presence of Shute.
And certain responsible critics
Made haste to reply to his words
Observing that his staff advisors
Consisted entirely of turds.
For shit may be shot at odd corners
And paper supplied there to suit,
But a shit would be shot without mourners
If somebody shot that shit Shute
envoyé par Bernart Bartleby - 10/9/2014 - 10:15
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Alan Patrick Herbert (1890-1971) durante la Grande Guerra prestò servizio nella Royal Navy, in particolare a Gallipoli. Più tardi sarebbe diventato parlamentare indipendente, romanziere ed umorista. E la stoffa la dimostra in questa allegra canzoncina da egli stesso composta durante una delle tante ispezioni del Generale Cameron Deane Shute (1866-1936), un ufficiale “con la puzza sotto il naso”, molto odiato per la sua fissazione con l’igiene in quell’immensa latrina che era la guerra di trincea…