NAM.1994-01-248-12

A Corner in Abbeville. Poem by A Gebbett, WAAC. From a collection of papers of Miss Maud Lilian Emsley, Women’s Army Auxiliary Corps and Queen Mary’s Army Auxiliary Corps, 1917-1932. There is a Camp in Abbeville, Lit with electric light, Where each dutiful W.A.A.C. girl Creeps in late at night. Second gong has been ringing, Maiden feels she could swear, Orderly, bouncing, grinning, Standing with death warrant there. There are some Non-Com. in Abbeville, Each with a golden stripe; Not all tarred with the same brush, Some of superior type Split on dear little W.A.A.C. girls Who winning officers meet, Who cigarettes smoke in cafes, Or taste red wine or sweet. There is a snug little surgery, Where we go mornings and nights, And a real W.A.A.C.Officer standing Ready to doctor your bites. Number 9 pills by the dozen, Bandages quite a good stack, Used by sick girls for garters, Instead of bringing them back. There are some rules made for Abbeville, And the founder you fear you could choke, But what seems to you first rotten, You treat later on as a joke! You walk fifty yards with your best boy, But unless you are positive sure That a couple are coming behind you You mustn’t walk half an inch more. There is a time in Abbeville, When you’d like to take to your boot! It’s when you meet one of the Officers And you’ve bally well GOT TO SALUTE, Your brain, it gets quite in a muddle, You don’t know your left from your right, You’d rather drown in the first puddle, But wish that a shop was in sight. It’s a swanky camp this Abbeville, With it’s enclosures of purest white paint, Which really are private Cemetries, Tho’ we try to pretend that they aint. Where each little Non-Com. W.A.A.C. girl Can lay her golden stripe down, With her tootsies kick up the daisies Till God says “Give her a Crown” !!

World War One, Western Front (1914-1918)