From The Tribunal 25th October 1917
BY THE MOTHER OF ONE OF THEM
Who PUT them in Prison?
“We” say the Court Martial
“Our judgement is partial
Our job will be gone,
And we shan’t carry on
If we listen to conscience
And that sort of nonsense.
Away with their tale!
Just clap them in jail,-
At the horrors we hear of the stoutest will quail!”
Who’ll STARVE them, in prison?
“Oh, we!” say the warders,
“For such is our orders,-
Reducing the ration
Is now all the fashion.
And ill-flavoured gruel
Is left,- something cruel!
Blackbeetles and mice
Spoil the oatmeal and rice
And the ‘Objects’ ob-ject, they’re fearfully nice!”
Who sees them DIE?
“Not I,” says the Nation,
“A pure fabrication!
They’ve lost weight we know-
A few stones, or so,-
And some have gone mad
With the tortures they’ve had
But if some have died
Such cases we hide-
And no-one, you’ll notice, for Murder is tried!”
Who’ll HELP the C.O.’s?
“Not I,” said the Church,
“For my ‘scutcheon would smirch,-
All war I abhor, it is not in my line,
But this war is diff’rent, it’s holy, it’s fine!
Now I can’t quite explain, but you’ll see in a minute-
Although it’s so holy,- why I am not in it;
The Government thought it would look very ill-flavour
The Cause notwithstanding, for Clergy to kill!
So this kind exemption of course I requite
By “talking up” fighting,- although I don’t fight!
Thus you will perceive, though I feel for their woes
That I can’t say a word for the poor dear C.O.’s!”