With the Serbs in Macedonia

156 WITH THE SERBS IN MACEDONIA
For days on end it's biowin' *ard (you never know your
luck),
An' then there comes a frost that makes you curse,
An' then it takes to snowin' 'ard (the tent ain't 'arf a
muck !)
An' then it thaws—and that's a dam' sight worse !
When it's cold in Macedonia, it's cold !
(Don't you never dare to say you ain't been told !)
With a bitter, biting blizzard
Playin* round about your gizzard.
It's a picnic when the tent pegs will not 'old !
But all that you can say,
In a frozey, nozey way,
Is " 'strewth, it's cold !
When it's wet in Macedonia, it ain't exactly dry ;
Oh, strike me pink,
it isn't half a Flood !
The roadways turn to rivers in the twinkling of an eye,
An' the camp is just a sea of slimy mud !
That Balkan mud is stickier than Mister Stickphast's glue —
You ought to see the soaking M.T. skid !
Oh, nothing could be trickier than getting lorries through,
But as we've got to do it, well, it's did !
When it's wet in Macedonia, it's wet.
(Make a note of that in case you should forget !)
For yourself you may feel sorry
When you're digging out your lorry.
But you won't find any words for it, I bet !
For all that you can say.
In a choky, soaky way.
Is,
" 'strewth, it's wet !
"
"