LITTLE GOLD CHEVRONS ON MY CUFFS.

Little gold chevrons on my cuffs,

What do you mean to me?

“We to the left mean hike and drill,

Trenches and mud and heat and chill —

And I to the right for the blood ye spill

Where the Marne runs to the sea.”

Little gold chevrons on my cuffs,

What is the tale ye tell?

“We to the left, of the long months spent

Where the somber seasons slowly blent —

And I to the right, of the ragged rent

That took so long to get well.”

Little gold chevrons on my cuffs,

What do you say to me?

“That ye would not trade us, master mine,

For ribbon or cross or rank, in fine,

That you are ours and we are thine

Through all the years to be.”