So as not to forget the spouses of those that endured the rain, mud, poor housing facilities, training exercises, and bad roads of these blossoming years in Camp Wainwright, the following poem from the April 1952 issue of the Wainwright Warrior salutes the Army Wife. No author is noted. Army Wife Who said that variety is the spice of life? No doubt it was first said by an ARMY WIFE! For the poor girl knows not where she’s at; Her home is wherever HE parks HIS hat. She moves each two years into new sets of Quarters, During which time she bears sons and daughters. She packs up to move - Fort Churchill’s their station. The Orders are Changed - they’ve a new destination. She may live in a hut with no room for expansion, Or maybe a tent or perhaps it’s a mansion. Then she uncrates the furniture in snow or in rain And lays the linoleum and still remains sane. She wrangles saw horses and builds all the beds, Makes curtains of hessian she last used for spreads. And during each move - now isn’t that strange? The brats catch diptheria, measles or mange! She no more than gets settled when she must dress up pretty Go to a party: be charming and witty. She must know contract rules, mah jong and chess, And whether a straight or a flush is best. On every subject she must know how to discourse, She must swim, ski and golf and ride a troop horse. She must know the traditions of HIS famous corps And she fast learns the way in which HE won the war. She jitterbugs with Lieuteneants who are always glamorous Then waltzes with Colonels who are usually amorous. She must drink all concoctions: gin, whiskey and beer, But in moderation or she’ll wreck HIS career. HE insists on economy, questions every check stub, Yet her house must be run like a hotel or club. For she entertains at all hours, both early and late For any number of guests, either eighty or eight. The first of each month there is plenty of cash, She serves turkey and ham - but the last week it’s hash. She juggles the budget for a tropical worsted. Though the seams on her own best outfit have bursted. Then she gets the uniform payment arranged When the blouse is no good - Regulations have Changed. One year she has servants and lives like a lady, The next she does housework and has a new baby. That there’ll be a bank balance she has no assurance. It all goes for “likker” or some darned insurance! At an age to retire, HE is still hale and hearty, Fit as a fiddle, the life of the party. While she’s old and haggard, cranky and nervous Really a wreck after HIS term of service. But at that when all’s said and done, She goes on believing tha Army Life’s FUN. She has loved every minute - and the reason why She’d have been bored with the average guy! Then HE gets for HIS service the OBE, But in actual fact it should have been SHE.