An Anzac Alphabet
By J. W. S. HENDERSON, R.G.A.
H is the wretched unfortunate Hill,
Bombarded and mined but impregnable still.
I’s the Intelligence officer who
Is said to exist at G.H.Q.
Forgive a digression and spare me the time
To think of a word that will make a good rhyme,
And if the delay is a little provoking,
Remember it’s J and the word may be Joking.
K is the Kaiser at home in Berlin,
Chanting his quaint maledictory hymn.
L is the Liar who loves to relate
Achi Baba has fallen, and gives you the date.
M is the Major observing from latitudes
Tending to strained and discomforting attitudes.
Note.—This illustration has had
to be postponed pending a
final statement by Mr. Hilaire
Belloc as to the date of the
certain exhaustion of German
resources.