We were eating chip potatoes underneath the April stars
That glittered coldly and aloof from earth and earthly wars;
We were three good pals together, and the day’s hard work was done,
So we munched our chip potatoes, half for food and half for fun.
Half the world was war’s dominion, but the mutter of the strife
Had come to seem accustomed as the undertone of life;
We were fit and hard and happy, and the future was unknown,
The past—all put behind us; but the present was our own.
We were doing our plainest duty, meant to end what we’d begun;
Why worry for tomorrow till to-day’s big job was done?
So we walked and laughed together like three modern musketeers—
Defying indigestion and the Germans and the years.
We were eating chip potatoes with our fingers, like a tramp,
And the unseen owls were hooting in the trees around the camp;
We were happy to be hungry, glad to be alive and strong;
So—to-morrow might be terror, but to-night could be a song!