Rookie rhymes, by the men of the 1st and 2nd provisional training regiments, Plattsburg, New York

In Short

Rookie Rhymes is a poignant, rough-hewn anthology of poetry and songs written by candidates at the 1917 Plattsburg Provisional Training Regiments. As these men transitioned from civilian life to the regimented discipline of wartime military training, they used verse to process their exhaustion, the absurdity of military bureaucracy, and the looming reality of combat in France. By turns satirical and deeply solemn, the volume serves as an authentic artifact of a generation caught between the comforts of home and the grim requirements of their new, martial identity.

The Story

The arc of the book mirrors the three-month transformation of a "rookie." It begins with the initial shock of enlistment: the endless waiting in lines, the confusion of administrative red tape, and the physical degradation of "skirmish" training. The early poems document the humorous indignities of the camp, such as the "fat man" struggling to carry a heavy pack or the bizarre experience of learning cavalry tactics without horses, using white cloths on arms to represent the animals. There is a palpable sense of the "odd man out," the civilian trying to reconcile his former life of leisure, girls, and home-cooked meals with a drill sergeant’s relentless, impersonal commands.

As the weeks progress, the tone shifts. The frustration with camp life—the cold barracks, the bad food, and the invasive medical inoculations—begins to bleed into a more sober realization of what lies ahead. The poems move from mocking the "patriotic songs" written by those far from the front to acknowledging the genuine danger of the U-boats waiting in the Atlantic. The men describe the heavy burden of their gear and the strange, quiet moments of Sunday introspection where they grapple with their own insignificance in a global conflict.

The narrative reaches its emotional climax as the time for deployment nears. The humor remains, but it is now tempered by the realization that their training is not a game. The final section, Finis, strips away the satire to address the central, haunting question: will they return? The book ends not with a flourish of martial glory, but with a quiet, solemn resolve. The candidates acknowledge that while they never asked to be soldiers, they are now bound for the trenches. They accept that they must "acquit themselves like men," leaving behind their civilian dreams for a future that is as uncertain as it is inevitable. The closing pages are marked by a sense of fraternal bond—a collective, silent understanding among men who know that their next "formation" might occur under fire.

How It Unfolds

The arrival of the green recruit The candidates grapple with the bureaucratic nightmare of camp life, detailing the soul-crushing experience of standing in endless lines for supplies and orders. These opening poems establish the rookies’ initial alienation as they trade their civilian identity for the rigid, often confusing, demands of the Plattsburg code.

The rigors of the training ground The focus shifts to the physical toll of the "murder drill," where men are pushed to their limits through marching and skirmish practice. The humor here is self-deprecating, as the authors mock their own clumsiness with the rifle and their exhaustion under the weight of full equipment.

The dream of the home front A series of verses captures the persistent pull of civilian life, featuring dreams of sweethearts, silver fizzes, and soft beds. These pieces provide a necessary contrast to the harsh realities of the barracks, emphasizing the emotional distance between the training camp and the world the men are about to leave.

The looming shadow of the front As the training reaches its end, the levity of the earlier songs gives way to the serious business of crossing the ocean. The men confront the reality of the U-boat threat and the necessity of sacrifice, replacing their earlier complaints with a sober, collective commitment to duty.

The People

The central figure is the "Rookie," a composite character representing the various civilian types—the fat man, the intellectual, the daydreamer—who were thrust into the 1st and 2nd Provisional Training Regiments. He is a man of contradictions: he is "tender" yet expected to be "tough," clinging to memories of "girls in pink" while learning to use a "gun-knife" to kill.

The "Captain" acts as the primary antagonist of the rookies’ comfort. Whether viewed as an object of mockery for his "heart of stone" or a source of fear during a "3rd degree" conference, he represents the uncompromising, often irrational machinery of the military. He is the force that demands perfection and dismisses excuses.

Then there is the "Montmorency Gray" archetype—the candidate who mastered the manuals, learned the map, and led his platoon, only to succumb to the psychological strain of the training, illustrating the fragile line between the successful candidate and the "derelict." Finally, the "Sweetheart" remains a vital, distant presence throughout the book. She is the anchor to a world that feels increasingly impossible to reach, symbolizing everything the men hope to protect and everything they are afraid they will never see again.

In Its Own Voice

"I stand in line till night for the Captain to endorse it; / But the Q. M. had one leggin' left; I used it for a corset."

The speaker of Standing in Line captures the absurdity of military bureaucracy and the physical indignities of being a new recruit.

"There's not a single man of us who really wants to fight, / And maybe die somewhere in France--but then, / It's war, and since it must be done, we'll try to do it right."

In the concluding poem, the author abandons satire to express the sober, stoic resignation of men who have accepted their duty.

What It's Really About

The book is a study in the psychological adaptation to war. It argues that the true transition of a soldier is not just physical—learning to march or shoot—but emotional. The primary tension lies in the struggle to retain one’s humanity while being trained for the systematic violence of the trenches. It asks: how does a civilian, accustomed to the comforts of home and the companionship of women, prepare to become a weapon of the state? The book suggests that humor, even when dark or cynical, is the primary survival mechanism for maintaining one’s sanity in the face of an uncertain, dangerous future.

Why Read It Today

Rookie Rhymes will appeal to those interested in the authentic, ground-level perspective of history. It offers a rare, unpolished look at the American entry into the First World War, free from the retrospective sentimentality that often colors later accounts. Reading it feels like sitting in a barracks tent after lights-out; you hear the candid, witty, and occasionally fearful voices of men who had no idea if they would survive the year.

Modern readers should be prepared for the period-specific attitudes, particularly regarding the idealized, passive roles assigned to women, as well as the colloquial, sometimes dated slang of the era. The poetry itself varies in quality—some are lighthearted parodies, while others are surprisingly sharp and evocative. You do not read this book for literary polish; you read it for its raw emotional sincerity. It remains a powerful testament to the common soldier’s capacity to find community and humor in the most dehumanizing circumstances. If you value the history of the "everyman," this collection stays with you as a reminder of the fragility of youth and the somber weight of sudden, forced adulthood.