Skip to main content

THE THIRD ANNUAL GREAT GENEALOGY POETRY CHALLENGE: "The OD Pill"

Today I take a parenthetical pause in my stream of posts on family church history to participate in Bill West's Third Annual Great Genealogy Poetry Challenge, formerly known as The Great Genealogy Poetry & Song Challenge.

This year my offering comes from a letter written by my grandfather, Francis Allyn Newton, Co. H., 107th U.S. Infantry, Camp Wadsworth, Spartanburg, S.C., to his mother on November 3, 1917. He closes the seven page letter with,
I had better close now as I am getting sleepy. With love to all, I remain Your Loving and Obedient Son, F.A. Newton
P.S. You will find a little poem in here that will possibly interest you. It was written by Pvt. Van Zandt in my tent. He is somewhat of a comedian. It was written about a certain Cathartic pill which is given to soldiers for nearly all ailments and is the cause of much comment in the Army. It is known as the O.D. pill.
The O.D. Pill, by Van Zandt, Co. H., 107th U.S. Inf.

You've heard of Doctor Reynolds
That wonder working man
With his cure for Barbers itch
And all the troubles of the Land
Who with a root and berrie
And a bit of bark, you see
Not to mention sand, imported
Upon a camels misplace knee
From the Himilayan Mountains
In far off Heathen Chinee
Concocted him a potion
Which has been my notion
Of a medicine perfect
For suffering humanitee
No doubt Doctor Reynolds
Would be the wonder still
But for the discovery 
Of the O.D. Pill.

Long and grand was his reign
And his renown was wide
But when the O.D. came
Old Doc began his slide
No pain nor sprain, nor ache nor break
Can long hold out if a pill you take
If the Army surgeon had his way
The Soldier would live 'til Judgement Day
For a headache or a toothache
For a backache or an earache
Take a pill
A fallen arch arises
With a speed that surprises
Take a pill.
If while jumping over hurdles
Brooks and tree stumps, even turtles
You sprain your ank. and yelp with pain
You had best quit your clatter
For there's really naught the matter
Take a pill.
If you're feeling rather blue 
Cuz she hasn't written you
Take a pill.
If work drills fatigue you
Don't lay down, the cooks will need you
Take a pill.

When on the trip across 
Your stomach you have lost
O're the starboard railing
Midships in the sea
While the others are whaling
You'll be no longer ailing
Take a pill.

When the Hun has run you thru
With a long short point or two
And made things worse
With gas and bombs andsuch
Tho' he's belted you and flayed you
By the living God that made you
You'll be a better man than he'll be
Take a pill.

My grandfather continues...
Written on the pill given by the Army surgeons for nearly all ailments...it's name is taken from the color of the uniform, Olive Drab, although the pill is white.


 

Comments

  1. Too Funny! Thanks, Debra, for sharing this.

    Judy

    ReplyDelete
  2. This poem made me grin. It's hard to find humor in wartime but somehow soldiers and sailors find it in the rules and regulations they have to deal with. Thanks for sharing this!

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Honoring our Ancestors: Free Black Patriots of the Revolutionary War

When I was first contacted last October to assist in some research for a member of the DAR who was looking for the burial ground of her ancestor, Isaac Carter, I had no idea it would lead to such a wonderful tribute--with full honors--to our free black ancestors of Craven County, North Carolina. Nor would I have guessed that I would be meeting together with Ms. Maria William Cole, National Vice Chairman Insignia, of the National Society Daughters of the American Revolution, and a host of other dignitaries, from the highest officials of the SAR to state and local political and community service leaders, to pay tribute to these patriots. The turnout exceeded my expectation when this event proceeded on a cold and rainy Sunday afternoon, with close to a hundred and fifty people or more, seated on folding chairs under three canopy tents. The microphone cable lay along the wet grass and soon died out, and we, the speakers, were asked to use our "mother's voices" to make o...

How Family History Writing Forces Us to Dig DEEPER

February is Family History Writing Month During the month of February, I went on hiatus from the Civil War Pension File of Isaac Carter in order to participate in the Family History Writing Challenge. My goal was quite ambitious, but I did succeed in setting up the framework of the family history memoir, and wrote a rough draft of the opening scenes. The memoir focuses on a promise I had made to our Cousin Hattie Carter Becton in an interview, following the the 2009 George Family Reunion in North Harlowe, North Carolina. In case you missed the Challenge, you can find the posts here . The site was developed especially for writing challenges, beginning with this year's; so, you may want to go back to the first posts in the archive. March was memoir reading, research & development month Last month I continued working on the writing, but also began focusing on webinars and YouTube videos related to writing memoir. Two really great sites are National Association of Memoir Writ...

Those Places Thursday -- Robert Livingston House, Little River, SC

In July of 2008 we attended the Prince Livingston Family Reunion in Wampee, Horry County, South Carolina (my husband's maternal family). During our down time we decided to take a drive through Little River where the plantation owner, Robert Livingston, had once lived.  We inquired at the Visitor Center, and learned that the Robert Livingston House had been preserved as an historical landmark. The brochure we received listed several different sites that interested us, but the Livingston House was our first destination.  We drove along Highway 17S and drove past the turn off for Lakeside Drive. At the next light we turned around and headed back down the highway until we came to the street. About two-thirds of the way down the road we saw a sign along the roadside: 19th Century Victorian Home for Sale. Was that the house? The number on the mail box was 4441. That's it! We got out of the car and looked around only to find that the owner was at home, and he was in the process...