Snug at the club two fathers sat, 
Gross, goggle-eyed, and full of chat. 
One of them said: `My eldest lad 
Writes cheery letters from Bagdad. 
But Arthur?s getting all the fun
At Arras with his nine-inch gun.? 

`Yes,? wheezed the other, `that?s the luck! 
My boy?s quite broken-hearted, stuck 
In England training all this year. 
Still, if there?s truth in what we hear,
The Huns intend to ask for more 
Before they bolt across the Rhine.? 
I watched them toddle through the door? 
These impotent old friends of mine.