Orange peel
THE COLONEL stopped, and glared around,
Then, pointing sternly to the ground,
‘What does this mean?’ demanded he,
‘A piece of orange peel I see!’
The Major called the Captain then,
And said, ‘By Gad! Your fault again!
Now what the blazes do you mean
By letting all this filth be seen?’
The Captain sniffed, but took the snub,
Then, calling to the junior Sub.,
Observed, ‘Look here, what’s all this mess?
It’s fit for pigs, sir, nothing less!’
The junior Sub. blushed crimson red,
Then, to the Sergeant-major, said,
‘I’m quite fed up, and all that rot!
I mean to say a pigsty! What?’
The Sergeant-major, filled with rage,
Attacked the Sergeant at this stage,
‘You careless swab! jump to it smart.
Oh strewth! You break my blinkin ’eart!’
The Sergeant, starting in to
Apostrophized the Corporal, thus,
‘You lazy, lumberin’, boss-eyed lout!
Who chucked this crimson fruit about?’
The Corporal frowned, and turned his eye
On Private Atkins passing by;
‘Hi! you! Come ’ere, you slobberin’ sweep,
Just shift this festerin’ rubbish ’eap!’
And Private Atkins, filled with gloom,
Applied himself with spade and broom:
‘They talk a ruddy lot,’ Quothe he,
‘But ’oo does all the work? Why me’
------------------------- ------------------------------------------------- ------
poem by John Milton Hayes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Pharaoh and the Sergeant
". . . Consider that the meritorious services of the Sergeant Instructors attached to the Egyptian Army haue been inadequately acknowledged. . . . To the excellence of their work is mainly due the great improvement that has taken place in the soldiers of H.H. the Khedive." -- Extract from Letter, 1897
Said England unto Pharaoh, "I must make a man of you,
That will stand upon his feet and play the game;
That will Maxim his oppressor as a Christian ought to do,"
And she sent old Pharaoh Sergeant Whatisname.
It was not a Duke nor Earl, nor yet a Viscount --
It was not a big brass General that came;
But a man in khaki kit who could handle men a bit,
With his bedding labelled Sergeant Whatisname.
Said England unto Pharaoh, "Though at present singing small,
You shall hum a proper tune before it ends,"
And she introduced old Pharaoh to the Sergeant once for all,
And left 'em in the desert making friends.
It was not a Crystal Palace nor Cathedral;
It was not a public-house of common fame;
But a piece of red-hot sand, with a palm on either hand,
And a little hut for Sergeant Whatisname.
Said England unto Pharaoh, "You 've had miracles before,
When Aaron struck your rivers into blood;
But if you watch the Sergeant he can show vou something more. '
He's a charm for making riflemen from mud."
It was neither Hindustani, French, nor Coptics;
It was odds and ends and leavings of the same,
Translated by a stick (which is really half the trick),
And Pharaoh harked to Sergeant Whatisname.
(There were y ears that no one talked of; there were times of horrid doubt --
There was faith and hope and whacking and despair --
While the Sergeant gave the Cautions and he combed old Pharaoh out,
And England didn't seem to know nor care.
That is England's awful way o' doing business --
She would serve her God (or Gordon) just the same --
For she thinks her Empire still is the Strand and Hol born Hill,
And she didn't think of Sergeant Whatisname.)
Said England to the Sergeant, "You can let my people go!"
(England used 'em cheap and nasty from the start),
And they entered 'em in battle on a most astonished foe --
But the Sergeant he had hardened Pharaoh's heart
Which was broke, along of all the plagues of Egypt,
Three thousand years before the Sergeant came
And he mended it again in a little more than ten,
Till Pharaoh fought like Sergeant Whatisname.
It was wicked bad campaigning (cheap and nasty from the first),
There was heat and dust and coolie-work and sun,
There were vipers; flies, and sandstorms, there was cholera and thirst,
But Pharaoh done the best he ever done.
Down the desert, down the railway, down the river,
Like Israelites From bondage so he came,
'Tween the clouds o' dust and fire to the land of his desire,
And his Moses, it was Sergeant Whatisname!
We are eating dirt in handfuls for to save our daily bread,
Which we have to buy from those that hate us most,
And we must not raise the money where the Sergeant raised the dead,
And it's wrong and bad and dangerous to boast.
But he did it on the cheap and on the quiet,
And he's not allowed to forward any claim --
Though he drilled a black man white, though he made a mummy fight,
He will still continue Sergeant Whatisname --
Private, Corporal, Colour-Sergeant, and Instructor --
But the everlasting miracle's the same!
poem by Rudyard Kipling
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Shut-Eye Sentry
Sez the Junior Orderly Sergeant
To the Senior Orderly Man:
"Our Orderly Orf'cer's ~hokee-mut~,
You 'elp 'im all you can.
For the wine was old and the night is cold,
An' the best we may go wrong,
So, 'fore 'e gits to the sentry-box,
You pass the word along."
So it was "Rounds! What Rounds?" at two of a frosty night,
'E's 'oldin' on by the sergeant's sash, but, sentry, shut your eye.
An' it was "Pass! All's well!" Oh, ain't 'e drippin' tight!
'E'll need an affidavit pretty badly by-an'-by.
The moon was white on the barricks,
The road was white an' wide,
An' the Orderly Orf'cer took it all,
An' the ten-foot ditch beside.
An' the corporal pulled an' the sergeant pushed,
An' the three they danced along,
But I'd shut my eyes in the sentry-box,
So I didn't see nothin' wrong.
Though it was "Rounds! What Rounds?" O corporal, 'old 'im up!
'E's usin' 'is cap as it shouldn't be used, but, sentry, shut your eye.
An' it was "Pass! All's well!" Ho, shun the foamin' cup!
'E'll need, etc.
'Twas after four in the mornin';
We 'ad to stop the fun,
An' we sent 'im 'ome on a bullock-cart,
With 'is belt an' stock undone;
But we sluiced 'im down an' we washed 'im out,
An' a first-class job we made,
When we saved 'im, smart as a bombardier,
For six-o'clock parade.
It 'ad been "Rounds! What Rounds?" Oh, shove 'im straight again!
'E's usin' 'is sword for a bicycle, but, sentry, shut your eye.
An' it was "Pass! All's well!" 'E's called me "Darlin' Jane"!
'E'll need, etc.
The drill was long an' 'eavy,
The sky was 'ot an' blue,
An' 'is eye was wild an' 'is 'air was wet,
But 'is sergeant pulled 'im through.
Our men was good old trusties --
They'd done it on their 'ead;
But you ought to 'ave 'eard 'em markin' time
To 'ide the things 'e said!
For it was "Right flank -- wheel!" for "'Alt, an' stand at ease!"
An' "Left extend!" for "Centre close!" O marker, shut your eye!
An' it was, "'Ere, sir, 'ere! before the Colonel sees!"
So he needed affidavits pretty badly by-an'-by.
There was two-an'-thirty sergeants,
There was corp'rals forty-one,
There was just nine 'undred rank an' file
To swear to a touch o' sun.
There was me 'e'd kissed in the sentry-box,
As I 'ave not told in my song,
But I took my oath, which were Bible truth,
I 'adn't seen nothin' wrong.
There's them that's 'ot an' 'aughty,
There's them that's cold an' 'ard,
But there comes a night when the best gets tight,
And then turns out the Guard.
I've seen them 'ide their liquor
In every kind o' way,
But most depends on makin' friends
With Privit Thomas A.!
When it is "Rounds! What Rounds?" 'E's breathin' through 'is nose.
'E's reelin', rollin', roarin' tight, but, sentry, shut your eye.
An' it is "Pass! All's well!" An' that's the way it goes:
We'll 'elp 'im for 'is mother, an' 'e'll 'elp us by-an'-by!
poem by Rudyard Kipling
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Death of an Airman
‘Abis, Ackerman, Benson and Blunt,
Stand to attention and look to the front,
Chiswell and Barnett
Who told you to fall out,
You’d think this was bush week
Or a Boy Scout Camp call-out;
Get back into line or I might have you all out
Tonight…
Did you hear what I said to you, Argent? ’
‘But there’s a man dying on the tarmac, Sergeant! ’
‘I never liked Wednesdays, ’ declaimed Sergeant Black,
‘Too soon to go forward, too late to go back!
Dexter and Dooley
I’ll have your attention,
I’m not calling names
For an honourable mention,
I’ll charge the whole bunch for a spark of presumption
Tomorrow…
I’ll tell you once more, Mister Argent…’
‘But there’s a man, dying on the tarmac, Sergeant! ’
‘Haven’t you seen a man faint before?
Harris and Jenkins
Block up that four!
Fill up the gap that your mate has relinquished
We’ll count him as present, but almost extinguished, ’
The Sergeant guffawed, in attempts to distinguish
Himself…
Now what in creation d’ya want with me, Argent? ’
‘A man has just died on the tarmac, Sergeant! ’
24 October 1972
poem by David Lewis Paget
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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This Is The Army Mister Jones
sheet music version:]
A bunch of frightened rookies were list'ning filled with awe
They listened while a sergeant was laying down the law
They stood there at attention, their faces turning red
The sergeant looked them over and this is what he said
This is the Army, Mister Jones!
No private rooms or telephones
You had your breakfast in bed before
But you won't have it there any more
This is the Army, Mister Green!
We like the barracks nice and clean
You had a housemaid to clean your floor
But she won't help you out any more
Do what the buglers command
They're in the Army and not in a band
This is the Army, Mister Brown!
You and your baby went to town
She had you worried but this is war
And she won't worry you anymore
song performed by by Irving Berlin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Enigma
The Sergeant of a Highland Reg-
-Iment was drilling of his men;
With temper notably on edge
He blest them every now and then.
A sweet old lady standing by,
Was looking on with fascination,
And then she dared this question shy,
That pertubates the Celtic nation.
"Oh gentle Sergeant do not scold;
Please tell me, though your tone so curt is:
These bare-legged boys look sadly cold -
Do they wear wool beneath their skirties?
The Sergeant's face grew lobster red,
As one who sends a bloke to blazes . . .
Then: "round about turn, squad," he said;
"Now blast you! bend and pick up daises."
poem by Robert William Service
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Beatles Medley
Were sergeant peppers lonely hearts club band
Were sorry but its time to go
Sergeant peppers one and only lonely hearts club band
We hope you did enjoy the show
Sergeant peppers lonely, sergeant peppers lonely
Sergeant peppers lonely hearts club band...
Sergeant peppers one and only lonely hearts club band!
Sergeant peppers one and only lonely hearts club band!
Sergeant peppers one and only lonely hearts club band!
Sergeant peppers one and only lonely hearts club band!
We were talking about the space between our song!
Aint nothing you can do that cant be done!
Its been a hard days night, I should be sleeping like a log!
Help! I need somebody!
Help!
Shes a big teaser!
She took me half the way there!
Lady madonna, baby at your breast!
Get back, get back
Get back to where you once belonged!
Get back, get back
Get back to where you once belonged!
She loves you yeah yeah yeah!
She loves you yeah yeah yeah!
She loves you yeah yeah yeah!
She loves you yeah!
Sergeant peppers one and only lonely hearts club band!
Nah nah nah nah nah nah!
Nah nah nah!
Hey jude!
Nah nah nah nah nah nah!
Nah nah nah!
Hey jude!
Nah nah nah nah nah nah!
Nah nah nah!
Hey jude!
Dah dah dah dah dah dah!
Dah dah dah!
Hey jude!
Dah dah dah dah dah dah!
Dah dah dah!
Hey jude!
Dah dah dah dah dah dah!
Dah dah dah!
Hey jude!
Hey jude!
song performed by by Waterboys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Jet
Jet! I can almost remember their funny faces
That time you told me that
You were going to be marrying soon.
And jet, I thought the only
Lonely place was on the moon.
Jet! jet!
Jet! was your father as bold as a sergeant major?
How come he told you that
You were hardly old enough yet?
And jet, I thought the major
Was a lady suffragette.
Jet! jet!
Ah, matter, want jet to always love me?
Ah, matter, want jet to always love me?
Ah, matter, much later.
Jet! with the wind in your hair of a thousand laces.
Climb on the back and well
Go for a ride in the sky.
And jet, I thought the major
Was a lady suffragette.
Jet! jet!
song performed by by Paul McCartney
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band
We're sergeant pepper's lonely hearts club band
We hope you have enjoyed the show
Sergeant pepper's lonely hearts club band
We're sorry but it's time to go.
Sergeant pepper's lonely.
Sergeant pepper's lonely.
Sergeant pepper's lonely.
Sergeant pepper's lonely.
Sergeant pepper's lonely hearts club band
We'd like to thank you once again
Sergeant pepper's one and only lonely hearts club band
It's getting very near the end
Sergeant pepper's lonely
Sergeant pepper's lonely
Sergeant pepper's lonely hearts club band.
song performed by by Beatles
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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You know, I was a regular on the Friday afternoon drill squad. Um, which... The year after I left school, I went back and thanked the sergeant major because I was so fit.
quote by John Newcombe
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Back to the Army Again
I'm 'ere in a ticky ulster an' a broken billycock 'at,
A-layin' on the sergeant I don't know a gun from a bat;
My shirt's doin' duty for jacket, my sock's stickin' out o' my boots,
An' I'm learnin' the damned old goose-step along o' the new recruits!
Back to Army again, sergeant,
Back to the Army again.
Don't look so 'ard, for I 'aven't no card,
I'm back to the Army again!
I done my six years' service. 'Er Majesty sez: "Good day --
You'll please to come when you're rung for, an' 'ere's your 'ole back-pay:
An' fourpence a day for baccy -- an' bloomin' gen'rous, too;
An' now you can make your fortune -- the same as your orf'cers do."
Back to the Army again, sergeant,
Back to the Army again.
'Ow did I learn to do right-about-turn?
I'm back to the Army again!
A man o' four-an'-twenty that 'asn't learned of a trade --
Beside "Reserve" agin' him -- 'e'd better be never made.
I tried my luck for a quarter, an' that was enough for me,
An' I thought of 'Er Majesty's barricks, an' I thought I'd go an' see.
Back to the Army again, sergeant,
Back to the Army again.
'Tisn't my fault if I dress when I 'alt --
I'm back to the Army again!
The sergeant arst no questions, but 'e winked the other eye,
'E sez to me, " 'Shun!" an' I shunted, the same as in days gone by;
For 'e saw the set o' my shoulders, an' I couldn't 'elp 'oldin' straight
When me an' the other rookies come under the barrik-gate.
Back to the Army again, sergeant,
Back to the Army again.
'Oo would ha' thought I could carry an' port?
I'm back to the Army again!
I took my bath, an' I wallered -- for, Gawd, I needed it so!
I smelt the smell o' the barricks, I 'eard the bugles go.
I 'eard the feet on the gravel -- the feet o' the men what drill --
An' I sez to my flutterin' 'eart-strings, I sez to 'em, "Peace, be still!"
Back to the Army again, sergeant,
Back to the Army again.
'Oo said I knew when the troopship was due?
I'm back to the Army again!
I carried my slops to the tailor; I sez to 'im, "None o' your lip!
You tight 'em over the shoulders, an' loose 'em over the 'ip,
For the set o' the tunic's 'orrid." An' 'e sez to me, "Strike me dead,
But I thought you was used to the business!" an' so 'e done what I said.
Back to the Army again, sergeant,
Back to the Army again.
Rather too free with my fancies? Wot -- me?
I'm back to the Army again!
Next week I'll 'ave 'em fitted; I'll buy me a swagger-cane;
They'll let me free o' the barricks to walk on the Hoe again,
In the name o' William Parsons, that used to be Edward Clay,
An' -- any pore beggar that wants it can draw my fourpence a day!
Back to the Army again, sergeant,
Back to the Army again.
Out o' the cold an' the rain, sergeant,
Out o' the cold an' the rain.
'Oo's there?
A man that's too good to be lost you,
A man that is 'andled an' made --
A man that will pay what 'e cost you
In learnin' the others their trade -- parade!
You're droppin' the pick o' the Army
Because you don't 'elp 'em remain,
But drives 'em to cheat to get out o' the street
An' back to the Army again!
poem by Rudyard Kipling
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My mother was a Northern woman, daughter of Hon. John Sergeant, a distinguished lawyer, and for many years representative in Congress from Philadelphia.
quote by John Sergeant Wise
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Dancer of Melody Palace
How is your beer?
Good. Bavaria brews the best beers in the world.
That is true. So what did you do in the war?
I was in the Russian front, wounded three times. How about you?
I was an SS guard in Auschwitz and Birkenau.
Was not that boring?
It was routine work. But unusual things had happened.
Don’t tell me that you ran out of Cyclon B for the gas chambers.
No. But on October 23,1943, we had some trouble
with a transport of 1,700 Jews who arrived from Bergen Belsen.
What sort of trouble?
Well, as usual, before gassing them we told them to undress.
In this group was a young and beautiful dancer, Franceska Mann.
She worked at the famous Melody Palace nightclub in Warsaw.
This sounds to me more like a musical than real trouble.
Just wait. Ogling Franceska, Sergeant-Major Schillinger
ordered her to undress completely. Yet she stood there hesitating.
Since others were slow as well we began to deliver blows
to the women to speed up the process. Then suddenly this Jewess,
the dancer, threw her shoe or something into Schillinger’s face.
What? Are you serious?
Yes, I am.
And he did not shoot her on spot?
Well, the sergeant-major tried. Astonished and furious
he opened his gun holster but Franceska was faster. She seized
his pistol and shot him twice in the stomach, wounding him mortally.
It is hard to believe this.
Yes, indeed. And she also managed to fire a third shot
injuring SS Sergeant Emmerich. In the ensuing commotion
the desperate women attacked the guards,
severing the nose of an SS soldier and scalping another.
How could you let this happen?
We were taken by complete surprise. This thing never happened before.
I am embarrassed to tell you this but we fled from these women.
So what is the end of the story?
We returned of course soon with machine guns and grenades,
led by camp commandant Rudolf Hoess.
We took the women outside and shot them one by one.
This ended the revolt of the Jewish women in Birkenau.
What about Schillinger? Did he survive?
No. he died of his wounds. Some say he was groaning
and asking God why he has to suffer like this.
poem by Paul Hartal
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38th Parallel
Once I lived in a village not far
from the thirty-eighth parallel
near Kaesong, in fact
The snow that February fell for days
blowing horizontally to the ground
hills and paddy fields filling with drifts
We lived, ten of us, in a hut
that smelled of kimchee and garlic
we huddled together on the warm floor
The sergeant in charge was from Chicago
a big-mouthed Irish guy from the South Side
he talked constantly about his gang back home
The North Koreans who ran the prison camp
grew to dislike the sergeant and our guys
we ate less and worked harder than the others
One night we talked it over with the sergeant
we told him that he had to compromise
and go along with our captors - or else
No doubt we angered him because
he got his Irish up and began striking out
an Italian guy from Hoboken put a shiv in him
We buried him next morning behind the messhall
the Korean in charge was pleased as punch
we ate better and worked a normal day
Today I often think of that hotheaded sergeant
who died in a foreign land because we were scared
and thought more of our own survival
poem by Michael Pruchnicki
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Dorothy
For she grew up in Kansas
An American for real
She loved baseball, God and country
And McDonalds for a meal.
She was a true American
Loved Springsteen to the hilt
But when she was in college
And struggling with bills
She thought she'd join the army
Join up as a reserve
Two weeks a year did not seem much
The time she had to serve.
It was great there in the army
She took it in her stride
Gave her some real ambition
And a sense of National Pride.
She started off as private
They joked, as 'private parts'
Then she became a corporal
Of the military arts
Part time corporal Kansas
She said that to the men
Who now were joining up in droves
When promotion came again
So now she was a sergeant
Who'd never been to war
Then the call up for iraq came out
And opened up the door
Of full time full on soldiering
So now it was her chance
To fight those goddam'd Arabs
And stop their deadly dance.
Day one it was amazing
They were given their full kit
Some kit wasn't full at all
But they didn't mind a bit
So with her body armour
An M15 right by her side
She jumped into the transport
For a military ride.
They disembarked at Basra
Now held safe by prior troops
They raced the desert northwards
Caught Baghdad inside a loop
The war was over quickly
Those Iraqi's they just ran
And one day she was called to see
A new military man
Said she was showing promise
Would she like to a different role?
A role that’s so important
And so central to our goal
These WMD's he said
Are proving hard to find
Those damned Iraqi's know so much
But they have twisted minds
We've got close on two hundred
Most of the players in the pack
So we have to exert pressure
On all the A-rabs that we catch.
Sergeant Kansas saw her future
She knew her destiny
She would be the first to find
A WMD.
We've know that they are out there
We know that from on high
And Sergeant Kansas stood there
Spangled banner in her eyes.
The dog leash was quite crazy
She told investigative men
Who questioned her so closely
And time and time again
They asked her the same question
Are you really really sure
That this was just an act of yours
And that no superior
Told you straight to do it
Or was it that this war
Made certain things permitted
Behind the gaol house door?
(pause)
'it was great there in the army
I took it in my stride
It gave me real ambition
And a sense of national pride
That is how it started
But if i the truth can tell
I now feel i'm America
And in a living hell'
30 May 2004
poem by David Keig
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Of private differences personal to himself, my brother had none.
quote by John Sergeant Wise
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Visitation At Fort Horn
Behind the walls where heat lightning falls
On five starred gnat-faced princess
The buffalo man shoots at the tin cats
Turns and shouts children, blow your bridges
On death row halls where dustmen stall
Where times an enemy and a friend
At night jackals crawl from the cracks in the walls
And salvation is never spoken
Morning sickness breaks the garrison gate
The cavalry cries for treason
The soldier strokes his pony and goes to shine the captains sword
In this young boys eyes lie reason
And the sergeant bursts in and cries I caught a prisoner, captain,
A prisoner, what ho !
The captain looks up and says let her go
But captain, she patrols the light ships that patrol the sea around
The rainbow tips, whose bagpiper wail unbroken
She haunts the night and the dawnin light
On her sounds and words your cavalry chokin
The captain says have no fear, boys
For what you hear
Because danger cant be spoken
The whirlwind crackles and I hear the rustle of shackles
From the stockade door bursts merlin
His eyes red, and swollen, like theyve been pushed into the sun
His robes aflame and burnin
He jumps a horse, tries to get away
But he gets caught in his eyes, tangled in his eyes
He falls to the ground, his neck is broken
His spirit rises high in the western sky
The magician lies an empty token
The sergeant walks over and kicks his body
And says captain, hes dead - what shall we do with him ?
The captain says hang him
For though his live moments on this earth are well spent
And I can se his body is sure well bent
Its magic that must be broken
Now night cradles low
The penniless weed plays wrath felt in the captains corner
With anvil spread wide, the captain glides
Each blow to scare her, not to hurt her
She spits what truth at the captains boots
But he holds his rage suspended
The sergeant comes in stinkin of soldiers gin
And cries captain, the storm she blows unending
Oh and the lightning cracked and the sky was hacked
By dagger rain it was torn
And the yard was charged into a raging sea
And the captain ran crazily
For the first time in his life, in the captains heart
Fear was born
The captain storms out on the stoop, panic strikes
He sees merlins hung body stretched by the neck
Silhouetted on his door
The sergeant screams captain, look high, look to the sky !
Some whirling, swirling emission ...
But the captain falls to his knees crying silent pleas
cause he knows, he knows, and he thinks to himself
A magician...
song performed by by Bruce Springsteen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Danny Deever
"What are the bugles blowin' for?" said Files-on-Parade.
"To turn you out, to turn you out", the Colour-Sergeant said.
"What makes you look so white, so white?" said Files-on-Parade.
"I'm dreadin' what I've got to watch", the Colour-Sergeant said.
For they're hangin' Danny Deever, you can hear the Dead March play,
The regiment's in 'ollow square -- they're hangin' him to-day;
They've taken of his buttons off an' cut his stripes away,
An' they're hangin' Danny Deever in the mornin'.
"What makes the rear-rank breathe so 'ard?" said Files-on-Parade.
"It's bitter cold, it's bitter cold", the Colour-Sergeant said.
"What makes that front-rank man fall down?" said Files-on-Parade.
"A touch o' sun, a touch o' sun", the Colour-Sergeant said.
They are hangin' Danny Deever, they are marchin' of 'im round,
They 'ave 'alted Danny Deever by 'is coffin on the ground;
An' 'e'll swing in 'arf a minute for a sneakin' shootin' hound --
O they're hangin' Danny Deever in the mornin'!
"'Is cot was right-'and cot to mine", said Files-on-Parade.
"'E's sleepin' out an' far to-night", the Colour-Sergeant said.
"I've drunk 'is beer a score o' times", said Files-on-Parade.
"'E's drinkin' bitter beer alone", the Colour-Sergeant said.
They are hangin' Danny Deever, you must mark 'im to 'is place,
For 'e shot a comrade sleepin' -- you must look 'im in the face;
Nine 'undred of 'is county an' the regiment's disgrace,
While they're hangin' Danny Deever in the mornin'.
"What's that so black agin' the sun?" said Files-on-Parade.
"It's Danny fightin' 'ard for life", the Colour-Sergeant said.
"What's that that whimpers over'ead?" said Files-on-Parade.
"It's Danny's soul that's passin' now", the Colour-Sergeant said.
For they're done with Danny Deever, you can 'ear the quickstep play,
The regiment's in column, an' they're marchin' us away;
Ho! the young recruits are shakin', an' they'll want their beer to-day,
After hangin' Danny Deever in the mornin'.
poem by Rudyard Kipling
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Marksman Sam
When Sam Small joined the regiment,
'E were no' but a raw recruit,
And they marched 'im away one wint'ry day,
'Is musket course to shoot.
They woke 'im up at the crack o' dawn,
Wi' many a nudge and shake,
'E were dreaming that t' Sergeant 'ad broke 'is neck,
And 'e didn't want to wake.
Lieutenant Bird came on parade,
And chided the lads for mooning,
'E talked in a voice like a pound o' plums,
'Is tonsils needed pruning.
"Move to the right by fours," he said,
Crisp like but most severe,
But Sam didn't know 'is right from 'is left,
So pretended 'e didn't 'ear.
Said Lieutenant, "Sergeant, take this man's name."
The Sergeant took out 'is pencil,
'E were getting ashamed o' taking Sam's name,
And were thinking o' cutting a stencil.
Sam carried a musket, a knapsack and coat,
Spare boots that 'e'd managed to wangle,
A 'atchet, a spade... in fact, as Sam said,
'E'd got everything bar t'kitchen mangle.
"March easy men," Lieutenant cried,
As the musket range grew near,
"March easy me blushing Aunt Fanny," said Sam,
"What a chance with all this 'ere."
When they told 'im to fire at five 'undred yards,
Sam nearly 'ad a fit,
For a six foot wall, or the Albert 'All,
Were all 'e were likely to 'it.
'E'd fitted a cork in 'is musket end,
To keep 'is powder dry,
And 'e didn't remember to take it out,
The first time 'e let fly.
'Is gun went off with a kind o' pop,
Where 'is bullet went no-one knew,
But next day they spoke of a tinker's moke,
Being killed by a cork... in Crewe.
At three 'undred yards, Sam shut 'is eyes,
And took a careful aim,
'E failed to score but the marker swore,
And walked away quite lame.
At two 'undred yards, Sam fired so wild,
That the Sergeant feared for 'is skin,
And the lads all cleared int' t' neighbouring field,
And started to dig 'emselves in.
"Ooh, Sergeant! I hear a scraping noise,"
Said Sam, "What can it be?"
The noise that 'e 'eard were lieutenant Bird,
'Oo were climbing the nearest tree.
"Ooh, Sergeant!" said Sam, "I've 'it the bull!
What price my shooting now?"
Said the Sergeant, "A bull? Yer gormless fool,
Yon isn't a bull... it's a cow!"
At fifty yards 'is musket kicked,
And went off with a noise like a blizzard,
And down came a crow looking fair surprised,
With a ram-rod through 'is gizzard.
As 'e loaded 'is musket to fire agen,
Said the Sergeant, "Don't waste shot!
Yer'd best fix bayonets and charge, my lad,
It's the only chance yer've got.
Sam kept loading 'is gun while the Sergeant spoke,
Till the bullets peeped out of the muzzle,
When all of a sudden it went off bang!
What made it go were a puzzle.
The bullets flew out in a kind of a spray,
And everything round got peppered,
When they counted 'is score... 'e'd got eight bulls eyes,
Four magpies, two lambs and a shepherd.
And the Sergeant for this got a D.C.M.
And the Colonel an O.B.E.
Lieutenant Bird got the D.S.O.
And Sam got... five days C.B.
poem by Marriott Edgar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Space Oddiity
Ground Control to Major Tom
Ground Control to Major Tom
Take your protein pills and put your helmet on
Ground Control to Major Tom
Commencing countdown, engines on
Check ignition and may God's love be with you
Ten, Nine, Eight, Seven, Six, Five,
Four, Three, Two, One, Liftoff
This is Ground Control to Major Tom
You've really made the grade
And the papers want to know whose shirts you wear
Now it's time to leave the capsule if you dare
"This is Major Tom to Ground Control
I'm stepping through the door
And I'm floating in a most peculiar way
And the stars look very different today
For here
Am I sitting in a tin can
Far above the world
Planet Earth is blue
And there's nothing I can do
Though I'm past one hundred thousand miles
I'm feeling very still
And I think my spaceship knows which way to go
Tell me wife I love her very much she knows"
Ground Control to Major Tom
Your circuit's dead, there's something wrong
Can you hear me, Major Tom?
Can you hear me, Major Tom?
Can you hear me, Major Tom?
Can you....
"Here am I floating round my tin can
Far above the Moon
Planet Earth is blue
And there's nothing I can do.
song performed by by David Bowie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Space Oddity
[David Bowie]
Ground Control to Major Tom
Ground Control to Major Tom
Take your protein pills
And put your helmet on
Ground Control to Major Tom
Commencing countdown, engines on
Check ignition
And may God's love be with you
Ten, nine eight, seven, six, five
Four, three, two, one, liftoff
This is Ground Control to Major Tom
You've really made the grade
And the papers want to know
Whose shirts you wear
Now it's time to leave the capsule
If you dare
This is Major Tom to Ground Control
I'm stepping through the door
And I'm floating in a most peculair way
And the stars look very different
Today
For here
Am I sitting in a tin can
Far above the world
Planet Earth is blue
And there's nothing I can do
Though I'm past 100,000 miles
I'm feeling very still
And I think my spaceship knows
Which way to go
Tell my wife I love her very much,
She knows
Ground Control to Major Tom
Your circuit's dead,
There's something wrong
Can you hear me Major Tom
Can you hear me Major Tom
Can you hear me Major Tom
Can you....
Here am I floating round my tin can
Far above the Moon
Planet Earth is blue
And there's nothing I can do
song performed by by Helloween
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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