Captain Billy's Whiz Bang, June 1922 · page 44 of 68
Captain Billy's Whiz Bang #34 — page 44: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This page contains two poems satirizing different frustrations. **"Essex Junction"** mocks a railroad junction (likely in Vermont) notorious for delays and accidents. The speaker curses whoever invented this location, hoping their souls suffer in hell—hyperbolic humor about travel frustrations that affected the war-era public. **"Whether You're Jew or Christian"** (recited by Ed. E. Ford) addresses World War I's Western Front. It argues that religious divisions become meaningless in combat's face—when poison gas attacks and death looms, soldiers of all faiths pray together equally. The poem's point: shared mortal danger transcends theological boundaries. The closing reference to a wounded soldier being "booked for 'the west'" (likely meaning death) reinforces this grim leveling effect of warfare. Both poems use dark humor typical of *Whiz Bang*, a satirical magazine known for irreverent commentary on contemporary hardships.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
42 Captain Billy's Whiz Bang In ocean storm, in desert drouth, Thro' railroad smash and steamboat shiver, While hope and courage faltered not, Nor strength gave way, nor faith was shaken, Until I reached this dismal spot. Of man accursed, of God forsaken, Where strange new forms of misery Assail men's lives without compunction. And I hope in hell Their souls may dwell, Who first invented Essex Junction. Here Boston waits for Ogdensburgh, And Ogdensburgh for Montreal, And late New York long tarrieth, And Saratoga hindreth all; From far Atlantic's wave-swept bays, To Mississippi's turbid tide, All accidents, mistakes, delays, Are gathered here and multiplied. Oh, fellow man, avoid this place, As you would plague or Peter Funk shun; And I hope in hell Their souls may dwell, Who first invented Essex Junction. * * * Whether You're Jew or Christian As recited by Ed. E. Ford. I was never much stuck on religion, At least none of the sorts I've known; For the Sunday dope from bishop to pope, Just freezes a man and denies him hope, Or leaves him cold as a stone. But it's different there in Flanders, Where the clergy are soldiers too; When the poison gas creeps through the grass, Then it's down on your knees in the reeking mass And the priest is there with you. So, whether you're Jew or a Christian, Whatever your faith or call; When you're faced out there with the grim death stare, It's to Hell with your creeds—for each one's prayer Goes straight to the God of us all. A chap there was who was wounded; He knew he was booked for "the west,"