The Kia ora coo-ee : the magazine for the ANZACS in the Middle East, 1918
He is not the kind that Worries, for he ain't a-built that way,
He can always raise a gain upon the very longest day.
Though the grub is miles behind us, and the waterbottles dry,
Still he grins and tells a story, he's a cheery kind of guy.
When there's work to do before us and we're lying on the sand,
You can see old Jim a-grinning fit to beat the band.
When tne shells are thick and heavy you can see old Jimmy smile,
And his gran it seems to reassure the lot of us the while.
When the word is passed along the line to fix our bits o' steel,
And "Jacko" soon will realise the argument is real,
Old Jimmy fairly cackles, like a hen upon a nest,
And to his section-leader tells a crimson-headed jest.
With the day's performance over, and we're trekking on our way,
Back to camp and beef and biscuits, Jimmy's heart is blithe and gay.
Though "the track be long and dreary and the stars be hard to find,
If the journey had no ending, still, old Jimmy" wouldn't mind.
And when old Jimmy leaves us for to grow a pair of wings,
Or shovel coal—I'm not too sure about these blooming things—
I'll bet with Peter or with Nick he'll have a little joke;
He simply has to smile or bust, he's just that kind of bloke,