THE DAY OF THE SOLDIER BOY
WHEN it’s morning on the border, and the sun is breaking through,
And the sands begin to glisten like the good old home town dew,
I look across the river, and it makes me kind of blue,
When it’s morning on the border, Love, my thoughts go back to you.
WHEN the sun is in the heavens and the air is mighty hot,
And its hard to breathe and stifling, and my throat is dry as rot,
I’ve got to grin and bear it, I’ve got to see it through,
To make the burden lighter, Love, my thoughts go back to you.
WHEN the sun has passed the border, and the after-glow is red,
And the silver moon is shining on the silent desert bed,
I’m feeling kind of lonely like, I know you’re lonely too,
When the sun has passed the border, Love, my thoughts go back to you.
WHEN the greaser stops his sniping and skulking in the sand,
When the raider hies himself away beyond the Rio Grande,
And the “spick” doffs his sombrero to the old red, white and blue,
And its calm along the border, Love, THEN I’LL COME BACK TO YOU.
Segt. Wm. H. Barter, 5th Mass. Infy. El Paso – On the Border
(Editor’s Note: See Postal from Camp Cotton, Texas 9/5/1916)