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How to Tell the Gases
Grandma smelled geranium,
Started feeling kind of bum,
Sure, you guessed the trouble right--
Grandma whiffed some Lewisite.
Don't you find my odor sweetish?
Said flypaper to the fly.
I smell just like chloropicrin,
And you'll think you'd like to die.
Maud Miller on a summer day,
Smelled the odor of new-mown hay,
She said to the Judge who was turning green,
"Put on your mask! That there's phosgene!"
Apple blossoms, fresh and dewy?
Normandy and romance? Hooey!
For the charming fragrance then known,
Now is chloracetophenone.
Never take a chance if
Garlic you should strongly sniff.
Don't think Mussolini's passed,
Man, you're being mustard-gassed.
Major, Field Artillery
Inside the cover of Gas Warfare. Smoke, Flame, and Gas in Modern Warfare. by BG Alden H. Waitt. The Infantry Journal, Fighting Forces Series. Second Edition. April 1944.
Mary, Mary, Quite Contrary
Mary, Mary, quite contrary,
What does your garden grow?
Propaganda, poison gas,
And air-planes flying low.
Then come the little white crosses,
Row, on row, on row.
MOTHER GOOSE-STEP and Other Nertzery Rhymes by Danny Weaver. Copyright January, 1940 by Lymanhouse.
E-mail me if you have any more chemical warfare poetry.
Copyright (c) 2001-2011 Placke & Associates.