"SOLDIER AN' SAILOR TOO."
By Rudyard Kipling,
Author of "Barrack-Room Ballads," "The Jungle Book," etc.
As I was spittin' into the Ditch aboard o' the "Crocodile,"
I seed a man on a man-o'-war got up in the Reg'lars' style.
'E was scrapin' the paint from off of 'er plates, an' I sez to 'im: "Oo are you?"
Sez 'e: "I'm a Jolly—'er Majesty's Jolly—soldier an' sailor too!"
Now 'is work begins by Gawd knows when, and 'is work is never through—
'E isn't one o' the Regular line, nor 'e isn't one of the crew—
'E's a kind of a giddy herumfrodite—soldier an' sailor too!
An' after I met 'im all over the world, a-doin' all kinds o' things,
Like landin' 'isself with a Gatling-gun to talk to them 'eathen kings;
'E sleeps in an 'ammick instead of a cot, an' 'e drills with the deck on a slue,
An' 'e sweats like a Jolly—'er Majesty's Jolly—soldier an' sailor too!
For there isn't a job on the top o' the earth the beggar don't know—nor do!
You can leave 'im at night on a bald man's 'ead to paddle 'is own canoe;
'E's a sort of a bloomin' cosmopolot—soldier an' sailor too.
We've fought 'em on trooper, we've fought em in dock, an' drunk with 'em in betweens,
When they called us the sea-sick scull'ry maids, an' we called 'em the Ass Marines;
But when we was down for a double fatigue, from Woolwich to Bernardmyo,
We sent for the Jollies—'er Majesty's Jollies—soldier an' sailor too!
They think for 'emselves, an they steal for 'emselves, an' they never ask what's to do,
But they're camped an fed an' they're up an' fed before our bugle's blew.
Ho! they ain't no limpin procrastitutes—soldier an' sailor too!
You may say we are fond of an 'arness cut or 'ootin' in barrick-yards,
Or startin' a Board School mutiny along o' the Onion Guards;
But once in a while we can finish in style for the ends of the earth to view,
The same as the Jollies—'er Majesty's Jollies—soldier an' sailor too.
They come of our lot, they was brothers to us, they was beggars we'd met and knew;
Yes, barrin' an inch in the chest an' the arms, they was doubles o' me and you,
For they weren't no special chrysanthemums—soldier an' sailor too.
To take your chance in the thick of a rush with firing all about
Is nothing so bad when you've cover to 'and, and leave an' likin' to shout;
But to stand an' be still to the "Birken'ead" drill is a damn tough bullet to chew,
And they done it, the Jollies—'er Majesty's Jollies—soldier an' sailor too.
Their work was done when it 'adn't begun, they was younger nor me an you;
Their choice it was plain between drownin in 'eaps an bein mashed by the screw,
An' they stood an' was still to the "Birken'ead" drill, soldier an sailor too!
We're most of us liars, we're 'arf of us thieves, an' the rest are as rank as can be,
But once in a while we can finish in style (which I 'ope it won't 'appen to me);
But it makes you think better o' you an' your friends an' the work you may 'ave to do
When you think o' the sinkin' "Victorier's" Jollies—soldier an' sailor too.
Now there isn't no room for to say you don't know—they 'ave settled it plain and true—
That whether it's Widow or whether it's ship, Victorier's work is to do,
As they done it, the Jollies—'er Majesty's Jollies—soldier an sailor too!
