"в британском камуфляже и тельняшках"

А тельняшки они у того же сержанта получили, что и DPM? И детского же размера?

"Песни войны, песни воинов".

Дурной пафос плещет, прикрытый незамайностью темы. А песни воинов, они, как бы... ну нет.

A poor aviator lay dying,
At the end of a bright summer's day.
His comrades had gathered about him.
To carry his fragments away.
The airplane was piled on his wishbone,
His Hotchkiss was wrapped round his head;
He wore a spark-plug on each elbow,
'Twas plain he would shortly be dead.

He spit out a valve and a gasket,
And stirred in the sump where he lay,
And then to his wondering comrades,
These brave parting words he did say:

"Take the magneto out of my stomach,
And the butterfly valve off my neck,
Extract from my liver the crankshaft,
There are lots of good parts in this wreck.
"Take the manifold out of my larynx,
And the cylinders out of my brain,
Take the piston rods out of my kidneys,
And assemble the engine again"


"When Very lights are shining
Sure they're like the morning light
And when the guns begin to thunder
You can hear the angels shite
Then the Maxims start to chatter
And trench mortars send a few
And when Very lights are shining
'Tis time for a rum issue

When Very lights are shining
Sure 'tis like the morning dew
And when shells begin a-bursting
It makes you think your time's come too
And when you start advancing
Five nines and gas comes through
Sure when Very lights are shining
'Tis rum or lead for you"