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TOMMY
by
Rudyard Kipling 
-
I
went
into a public-'ouse to get a pint o' beer,
-
The
publican 'e up an' sez, " We serve no red-coats here."
-
The
girls be'ind the bar they laughed an' giggled fit to die,
-
I
outs into the street again an' to myself sez I:
-
0
it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' Tommy, go away
-
But
it's " Thank you, Mister Atkins," when the band begins
to play
-
The
band begins to play, my boys, the band begins to play,
-
0
it's " Thank you, Mister Atkins," when the band begins
to play.
-
I
went into a theatre as sober as could be,
-
They
gave a drunk civilian room, but 'adn't none for me;
-
They
sent me to the gallery or round the music-'alls,
-
But
when it comes to fightin', Lord! they'll shove me in the stalls!
-
For
it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' " Tommy, wait outside
";
-
But
it's " Special train for Atkins " when the trooper's on
the tide
-
The
troopship's on the tide, my boys, the troopship's on the tide,
-
0
it's " Special train for Atkins " when the trooper's on
the tide.
-
Yes,
makin' mock o' uniforms that guard you while You sleep
-
Is
cheaper than them uniforms, an' they're starvation cheap:
-
An'
hustlin' drunken soldiers when they're goin' large a bit
-
Is
five times better business than paradin' in full kit.
-
Then
it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an` "Tommy, ow's yer soul?
"
-
But
it's " Thin red line of 'eroes " when the drums begin to
roll
-
The
drums begin to roll, my boys, the drums begin to roll,
-
0
it's " Thin red line of 'eroes " when the drums begin to
roll.
-
We
aren't no thin red 'eroes, nor we aren't no blackguards too,
-
But
single men in barricks, most remarkable like you;
-
An'
if sometimes our conduck isn't all your fancy paints,
-
Why,
single men in barricks don't grow into plaster saints;
-
While
it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an "Tommy, fall be'ind,"
-
But
it's " Please to walk in front, sir," when there's
trouble in the wind
-
There's
trouble in the wind, my boys, there's trouble in the wind,
-
0
it's " Please to walk in front, sir," when there's
trouble in the wind.
-
You
talk o' better food for us, an' schools, an' fires, an' all:
-
We'll
wait for extry rations if you treat us rational.
-
Don't
mess about the cook-room slops, but prove it to our face
-
The
Widow's Uniform is not the soldier-man's disgrace.
-
For
it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an "Chuck him out, the brute!
"
-
But
it's " Saviour of 'is country " when the guns begin to
shoot;
-
An'
it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' anything you please;
- An'
Tommy ain't a bloomin' fool - you bet that Tommy sees !
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With
French to Kimberley,
A B “Banjo” Paterson
-
The
Boers
were down on Kimberley with siege and Maxim gun;
-
The
Boers were down on Kimberley, their numbers ten to one!
-
Faint
were the hopes the British had to make the struggle good
-
Defenceless
in an open plain the Diamond City stood.
-
They
built them forts with bags of sand, they fought from roof and
wall,
-
They
flashed a message to the south, "Help! or the town must
fall”
-
Then
down our ranks the order ran to march at dawn of day,
-
And
French was off to Kimberley to drive the Boers away.
-
He
made no march along the line; he made no front attack
-
Upon
those Magersfontein heights that held the Seaforths back;
-
But
eastward over pathless plains, by open veldt and vley.
-
Across
the front of Cronje's force his troopers held their way.
-
The
springbuck, feeding on the flats where Modder River runs,
-
Were
startled by his horses' hoofs, the rumble of his guns.
-
The
Dutchman's spies that watched his march from every rocky wall
-
Rode
back in haste: "He marches East! He threatens Jacobsdal
!”
-
Then
north he wheeled as wheels the hawk, and showed to their dismay
-
That
French was off to Kimberley to drive the Boers away.
-
His
column was five thousand strong; all mounted men and guns:
-
There
met, beneath the world-wide flag, the world-wide Empire's sons;
-
They
came to prove to all the earth that kinship conquers space,
-
And
those who fight the British Isles must fight the British race!
-
From
far New Zealand's flax and fern, from cold Canadian snows,
-
From
Queensland plains, where hot as fire the summer sunshine glows
-
And
in the front the Lancers rode that New South Wales had sent:
-
With
easy stride across the plain their long, lean Walers went.
-
Unknown,
untried, those squadrons were, but proudly out they drew
-
Beside
the English regiments that fought at Waterloo.
-
From
every coast, from every clime, they met in proud array
-
To
go with French to Kimberley to drive the Boers away.
-
He
crossed the Reit and fought his way towards the Modder bank.
-
The
foemen closed behind his march, and hung upon the flank.
-
The
long, dry grass was all ablaze (and fierce the veldt fire runs);
-
He
fought them through a wall of flame that blazed around the guns!
-
Then
limbered up and drove at speed, though horses fell and died;
-
We
might not halt for man nor beast on that wild and daring ride.
-
Black
with the smoke and parched with thirst, we pressed the livelong day
-
Our
headlong march to Kimberley to drive the Boers away.
-
We
reached the drift at fall of night, and camped across the ford.
-
Next
day from all the hills around the Dutchman's cannon roared.
-
A
narrow pass ran through the hills, with guns on either side;
-
The
boldest man might well turn pale before that pass he tried,
-
For,
if the first attack should fail, then every hope was gone:
-
But
French looked once, and only once, and then he said, "Push
on!"
-
The
gunners plied their guns amain; the hail of shrapnel flew;
-
With
rifle fire and lancer charge their squadrons back we threw;
-
And
through the pass between the hills we swept in furious fray,
-
And
French was through to Kimberley to drive the Boers away.
-
Ay,
French was through to Kimberley! And ere the day was done
-
We
saw the Diamond City stand, lit by the evening sun:
-
Above
the town the heliograph hung like an eye of flame:
-
Around
the town the foemen camped - they knew not that we came;
-
But
soon they saw us, rank on rank; they heard our squadrons' tread;
-
In
panic fear they left their tents, in hopeless rout they fled
-
And
French rode into Kimberley; the people cheered amain,
-
The
women came with tear-stained eyes to touch his bridle
rein,
-
The
starving children lined the streets to raise a feeble cheer,
-
The
bells rang out a joyous peal to say “Relief is here!"
-
Ay!
We that saw that stirring march are proud that we can say
-
We
went with French to Kimberley to drive the Boers away.
Banjo
Paterson was a War Correspondent during the Boer War
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The
Absent Minded Beggar |
 |
 |
| This is an
example of an adverting item of the Boer War era. It is a match holder,
designed to sit on the bar and to contain wax matches. It bears two ads
for Ushers Special Reserve Whisky, an image of a wounded soldier still
standing his post and part of Kipling's "Absent Minded
Beggar". |
WHEN
you’ve shouted “Rule Britannia,” when you’ve sung “God save
the Queen,”
When you’ve finished killing Kruger with your
mouth,
Will you kindly drop a shilling in my little tambourine
For a gentleman in khaki ordered South?
He’s an absent-minded beggar, and his weaknesses are great—
But we and Paul must take him as we find him—
He is out on active service, wiping something off a slate—
And he’s left a lot of little things behind
him!
Duke’s son—cook’s son—son of a hundred kings—
(Fifty thousand horse and foot going to Table
Bay!)
Each of ’em doing his country’s work
(and who’s to look after their things?)
Pass the hat for your credit’s sake,
and pay—pay—pay!
There are girls he married secret,
asking no permission to,
For he knew he wouldn’t get it if he did.
There is gas and coals and vittles, and the house-rent falling due,
And it’s more than rather likely there’s a
kid.
There are girls he walked with casual. They’ll be sorry now he’s
gone,
For an absent-minded beggar they will find him,
But it ain’t the time for sermons with the winter coming on.
We must help the girl that Tommy’s left behind
him!
Cook’s son—duke’s son—son of a belted earl—
Son of a Lambeth publican—it’s all the same
to-day!
Each of ’em doing his country’s work
(and who’s to look after the girl?)
Pass the hat for your credit’s sake,
and pay—pay—pay!
There are families by thousands, far
too proud to beg or speak,
And they’ll put their sticks and bedding up
the spout,
And they’ll live on half o’ nothing, paid ’em punctual once a week
’Cause the man that earns the wage is ordered
out.
He’s an absent-minded beggar, but he heard his country call,
And his reg’ment didn’t need to send to find
him!
He chucked his job and joined it—so the job before us all
Is to help the home that Tommy’s left behind
him!
Duke’s job—cook’s job—gardener, baronet, groom
Mews or palace or paper-shop, there’s someone
gone away!
Each of ’em doing his country’s work
(and who’s to look after the room?)
Pass the hat for your credit’s sake,
and pay—pay—pay!
Let us manage so as, later, we can
look him in the face,
And tell him—what he’d very much prefer—
That, while he saved the Empire, his employer saved his place
And his mates (that’s you and me) looked out
for her.
He’s an absent-minded beggar and he may forget it all,
But we do not want his kiddies to remind him
That we sent ’em to the workhouse while their daddy hammered Paul,
So we’ll help the homes that Tommy left behind
him!
Cook’s home—Duke’s home—home of a millionaire,
(Fifty thousand horse and foot going to Table
Bay!)
Each of ’em doing his country’s work
(and what have you got to spare?)
Pass the hat for your credit’s sake,
and pay—pay—pay! |
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