<html xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><body><h1 align="center" class="head">In the Front-Line Desks</h1><p class="byline"> LIEUT. ELMER FRANKLIN POWELL <br xmlns:exist="http://exist.sourceforge.net/NS/exist" xmlns:html="http://www.w3.org/TR/REC-html40"/><span class="smallcaps">IN Adventure Magazine</span><br xmlns:exist="http://exist.sourceforge.net/NS/exist" xmlns:html="http://www.w3.org/TR/REC-html40"/>Permission to reproduce in this book</p><div class="stanza"><p class="line">I TRIED to be a doughboy, but they said my feet were flat</p><p class="line">And I'd surely never stand the awful strain.</p><p class="line">No chance to even argue that I'd like to bet my hat</p><p class="line">I could out walk any tar--heel in the train.</p><p class="line">"Awfull sorry, but it's useless," was the doctor's mournful wail.</p><p class="line">"Your eyesight quite unfits you for the guns."</p><p class="line">Uselessly I tried to tell him that at dropping leaden hail</p><p class="line">I could surely decimate a pack of Huns.</p></div><div class="stanza"><p class="line">Then I hoped for aviation, for my nerve is still in place,</p><p class="line">But there wasn't even half a chance for that.</p><p class="line">A stocky young lieutenant said, "You'll never hold the pace,</p><p class="line">For you've got a jumpy eyebrow." Think o' that!</p></div><div class="stanza"><p class="line">So they went and made me captain in the Quartermaster Corps,</p><p class="line">Where I juggle lists of beans the livelong day.</p><p class="line">Trying hard to grin and bear it as the boys march off to war</p><p class="line">While I sit and figure up their blasted pay. </p></div></body></html> · Great War