Milwaukee School of Engineering - EMF Yearbook (Milwaukee, WI)

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 lyWWWWfWM» rJ'. y % w ft ' i.. T- YA yr MW .1l ' l'tw» w ., 'f THE 4920 Elf®- £26 ——— — u—— They sent me out to the range, To hear the bullets sing; 1 shot away one whole day, And never hit a thing. The captain said shoot at will; Says I “Which one is he’? That made the captain angry And he fired his gun at me. They shipped me away from out the camp, 1 landed over in France; I didn’t like the idea much Rut I thought I’d take a chance. The captain said : “The flag is down ’ To get it if I could; 1 said. “I’d really like to. Rut there are others just as good.” A cannon ball flew over me, I started home like sin; The captain, he was after me The lieutenant beat me in. The General says we’ll all go home When we whip Germany; To tell the truth the whole darn thing Can’t end too soon for me. Xow wars may come and wars may go, But get this in your mind, Whcn’ere they have have another war I’ll be hard to find. To shoot and fight may be all right Rut I think that it’s a sin, What 1 like is peace on earth And good will to all men. Now I could sing some more of this, There is lots more to tell; But I’ll sing the rest when cr’e I hear That the Kaiser has gone to well! If it should enter your head, That all this isn’t true: Just take a trip across to France And I’ll prove it all to yon.” (Chorus to be sung after each verse.) Page Four Hundred Forty-six

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 jsr XJKGE Dips.® ElMF Some fellows along with us said, We’ll join the infantree.” I says, My motto’s Safety first, Me for the Q. M. C.” When I first landed at the camp, I certainly did get blue; The sergeant says, Cheer up, old boy, We’ll make a man of you.” When first my captain saw me, He “cursed and cursed” with vim; I guess he thought mv local board Had played a joke on him. They gave to me a khaki suit, Some leggins and some shoes; My captain says, Dress up in these And I will cure your blues.” The straw was full of briers, That was in my sleeping bag; The captain chewed tobacco, Rut the sergeant chewed the rag. They fed me on potatoes And beef three times a day; It must be all the hogs arc dead And the hens they never lay. I asked the corporal of the guard For sugar for my tea; The corporal told the sergeant And they put me on K. P. They punched my arm full of holes, They vaccinated me; I guess it was the thing to do But it didn’t appeal to me. My arm swelled up, my head it ached; I was sick all day and night ; The sergeant says, to see the Doc. And then you’ll be all right. I I soon began to realize What I had got into; And now T know beyond a doubt, What Sherman said is true. Page Pour Hundred Forty-five

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Kint Bt Extra— pwittuag i p?rial SPEED FIEND DISCOVERED, AT LAST MOMENT, IN OUR CHIEF CAROONIST! Wc were talking over tlie last items of the E. M. F. About everything was in. Somehow or other the conversation drifted to the subject of speed- ways. Quietly there came into the conversation the voice of L. E. Glcim, and we made a discovery. He is a real speed fiend. He knows all about the leading speedways of the nation—Indianapolis, Chicago, New York, Omaha and Los Angeles; makes a point of taking in the great events of the motor races; knows lots of the big racers; and has a speed car of his own make out in his home in Phoenix. Arizona. It’s a gem. The story of it read like a Xmas story. Now, Glcim is a genius. Out there in Phoenix they show his art work- around town to all the leading citizens. Modest little Glcim doesn’t do it. but his father borrows the pictures and takes them down town. Well, once upon a time he made a picture—an oil painting—of the kind of a car he would like to own. He kept showing it to his father and say- ing. “There, Dad, is the car to own.” It had many features taken from the best racers, was a racy orange color and had one of those inflated backs that run out behind like Bob Burman’s or Dario Resta’s or De Palma’s machines. One day his father borrowed the picture to show it to his friends down- town (?). It remained away from home till Speedway Gleim began to wonder what had happened to it. Christmas came and Gleim was dissap- pointed at breakfast to find no present from Dad on his plate. But after breakfast they went out to the garage and threw wide the doors. Dad and he had a date to go hunting that day. The family already had three machines. There, in the midst of the group, stood Speedway Glcim’s yellow car. true to the picture in every detail. Yes, his father had sent that painting on to Detroit to the Dodge firm and had a special car made exactly like it—the nicest, niftiest little racer you ever saw. Miniature—only eighty-one inches wheel-base—just large enough for Gleim and a mechanician to sit side by side. A beautiful orange in color, a roar when on the road like a mixed calli- ope. fog horn and hurricane. Glcim’s heart went up in the air and hasn’t yet reached earth. Page Four Hundred Forty-seven