I'm just too old for drilling 
I can't hike anymore; 
So I'm bound for the soldiers' graveyard 
Behind an office door. 
They sing - "Old soldiers never die." 
We don't; we live on crumbs - 
The shrilling, splendid bugles 
An' the thunder of the drums! 

I won't do Guard in a snowstorm 
An' I won't hafta go an' fire; 
It's just messin' around an office 
An' waiting to retire. 
"Approved per First Indorsement ..." 
An' through the window comes 
The music of a Guardmount 
An' the cadenced, throbbin' drums! 

Twenty-three and a butt in the Doughboys; 
Why, I've hiked a million miles! 
But they said my age couldn't stand it 
An' they detailed me to the files! 
This work is nice for some men 
Who can take it as it comes. 
But you know their hearts ain't achin' 
For the pullin', poundin' drums! 

D.S. 1/4C. an' a non-combatant! 
When there's guys tha'd give their life 
To piddle around an office 
An' go home at night to the wife. 
But I'll get back to formation; 
There's a day that always comes: 
An' I'll ride on a painted cassion 
With the muffled, sobbin' drums! 

         TenEyck Van Deusen