After the Armistice the First Army School was transformed into an education institution to equip officers for return to the Universities.
At last I ween the fateful day has come
when Halls of Learning I no longer tread,
no longer shall I hear the morning drum
or leap reluctant from a flea-bag bed;
no longer hear Bill Bailey bellow 'shun'!
or see fair Fanny make his great salute
or curse the remnant of that breakfast egg
upon the lips of some poor 'second loot'.
No more shall I admire the old brown jug
immortalised by Harley, loved by all,
no more shall I endure the work-room 'fug'
or freeze in silence in the lecture-hall.
O shades of many a dear dead yesterday!
may you remain hard by me when I go
to shed my garb of khaki and of war
far from the ancient Chateau Hardelot
Chateau Hardelot 1 January 1919
William Richard Torvaney
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/on-leaving-hardelot/
