Vivian Hess, the real postmaster's daughter, who graciously allowed me to fictionalize her stories for my book, sent me these lyrics to "Clean the Latrine", a parody of "Begin the Beguine". She writes, "I think this was performed at CGJ by our Headquarters Mess guys." Taken from the Fort Hamilton Soldier Show "Stars and Gripes".
When we begin to clean the Latrine
We take up a mop in our hands so tender
We scrub all the seats ‘till they
shine with splendor
And polish the bowls ‘till they have
a sheen
My back starts to creak as I carry on
My palms start to ache…develop a
blister’
I long for the days when I was called
“Mister”
And not “Private Stink” who cleans
the latrine
Tis then I recall with tenderness
dreaming
The rooms on Broadway where everything
glows
The tile and the stalls and fixtures so
gleaming
The hot water steaming, the doors that
would close
A short year ago I was green
I didn’t know the word ‘latrine’
existed
But I found out soon enough when I
enlisted
Now I know but too well what they mean.
Chorus….Once again I begin to clean
the god damn latrine, and I yearn for the time when I’ll be a
civilian….Oh, that feeling you get is worth more than a million
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