_This book is dedicated to the Fathers and Mothers of the Boys who went and those who prepared to go._ Say, Mate, don't you figure it's great To think, when the war is all over, And we're thro' with the mud-- And the spilling of blood, And we're shipped back again to old Dover; When they've paid us our tin And we've blown the lot in, And our very last penny is spent, We'll still have a thought, if that's all we've got: Well, I'm one of the boys who went.…
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