THE Y.M. BLOKES

Nelson Evening Mail, 22 May 1917, Page 2

THE Y.M. BLOKES

One of our "Dinkunvs" came to say goodbye—"."l'm off 'up the Line' tomorrow. Not much struck on it either ; but I guess,, if a -shell shoots me 100 feet into the blue, there'll be one of you YM. blokes up there handing, me* a cup of coffee." —Mr R. 0. Clack, Chief Y.M.C.A. Secretary with the. A.I.F.

We have met 'em in the rest camps : we ha'.'e met 'em in the trench; We met 'cm on Gallipoli, and when we ' joined the French ; In Suez and in Sinai we have fought, and everywhere The chance of -war has shifted us', ; the Y.M. Blokes were there. We have rather come to fancy, v hen wo occupy Berlin. ' The Y.M. Bloke- will meet ns with a steaming coffee tin, Just as we thought, if we'd the luck i-o reach the Golden Horn. The Y.M. Blokes would lob along as sure as they were born.

Said Dinkum Bill, from Murphy's -icek —"lf one Jack Johnson shell Should blow me up and make my tup ;i longer tn- to —well \ I'm only ~gn.';s:ng where I'd go >f I wore busted up. But sure, I'd meet a Y.M. H.mko ■ ;tf his hot coffee cup ; I think, if sallor-meu were wrecked within a submarine. A Johnny in a diving-bejl would very Poon be seen : , •■, The breathing-space inside the le! a coffee-stall would hold, And some old T.M. Bloke .vou't viU: Are vou blokes feeling cold'.'

And manv more, like Dinkum Bill, hold I this belief to-day. ' , That nothing in creation the old Y.M.C.A.. Who flutter up among; stars, or walk N terrestrial heath. - ... ■ _ Or commandeer old Neptune'- cars to search the pea. beneath. '■ The soldier with a pick can' hear thenvoices in the. sap: / i "You're working -preiH- Mvd. I fe-ir ; the coffee's pood, old char'. . When questing aviators go. the words come through" the night: "Hey ! catch this thermos when I throw ; you ready? Steady Right!" It was a weary soldier-man who flcpt and dreamed a dream That all around the world he ran as swift as Phoebus'; team ; He sped by Athabasca's lake, he burned to the-Horn. He. went where Iceland's seagull's wake the echoes of the morn : • Across the wide Siberian waste his phantom footsteps passed. And down to Kerguelen raced lie!ore the northern blast. ■ His body never left the tent; but, when the man awoke, . He swore that everywhere he went, he saw a. Y.M. Bloke. ;• —Sydney Sun.