When ’e went to tend the wounded under fire!
It was “Din! Din! Din!”
With the bullets kickin’ dust spots on the green,
When the cartridges ran out,
You could hear the front lines shout,
“Hi! ammunition-mules an’ Gunga Din!”
I sha’n’t forgit the night
When I dropped be’ind the fight
With a bullet where my belt-plate should ’a’ been.
I was chokin’ mad with thirst,