The Alaska Highway
The U.S. Army took over a strip,
A strip of Canadian soil,
They did it without a single hitch,
Without creating a boil,
Their engineers went on ahead,
Surveyed and staked a trail,
The job was done in record time,
No such thing as fail.
Soldiers followed with dozers and cats,
Clearing the right of way,
Like coaches guiding a football squad,
Officers led the play.
Over the hills and valley deep,
Over some raging stream,
Working together like all were one,
Sure was a wonderful scene.
Colored boys from the south so hot,
Working here in the cold,
Dressed in woolens and parkas warm,
Pitched in and took a hold,
Singing the songs of Dixie land,
'Way up here in the north,
Far from the cotton fields at home
Soldiers that held the fort.
Mile after mile they battled on,
Determined to see the end,
Never stopping for snow or rain,
Backs to the task they bend,
From Dawson Creek to Fairbanks,
Ever kicking a goal,
Heeding not the kee bird's cry,
Screeching about the cold.
True, some graves that mark the trail,
Someone who passed away,
Like every big job that's ever done,
Some death is the price pay.
"Keep 'em rolling", the slogan now,
Seeing the road is done,
Another niche in the hall of fame,
Once more our army has won.
Anonymous (Cohen, p. I)