(Poet and Empire story-teller Rudyard Kipling)

Editor’s Note: In view of our renewed commitment to Afghanistan, it is worth re-visiting Rudyard Kipling, Poet Laureate of the British Empir, and recall his thoughts about the troops and service in that troubled land…and America’s longest war.

– Vic

Troop in’
(Our Army in the East)

Troopin’, troopin’, troopin’ to the sea:

‘Ere’s September come again — the six-year men are free.

O leave the dead be’ind us, for they cannot come away

To where the ship’s a-coalin’ up that takes us ‘ome to-day.

We’re goin’ ‘ome, we’re goin’ ‘ome,

Our ship is at the shore,

An’ you must pack your ‘aversack,

For we won’t come back no more.

Ho, don’t you grieve for me,

My lovely Mary-Ann,

For I’ll marry you yit on a fourp’ny bit

As a time-expired man.

The Malabar’s in ‘arbour with the ~Jumner~ at ‘er tail,

An’ the time-expired’s waitin’ of ‘is orders for to sail.

Ho! the weary waitin’ when on Khyber ‘ills we lay,

But the time-expired’s waitin’ of ‘is orders ‘ome to-day.

They’ll turn us out at Portsmouth wharf in cold an’ wet an’ rain,

All wearin’ Injian cotton kit, but we will not complain;

They’ll kill us of pneumonia — for that’s their little way —

But damn the chills and fever, men, we’re goin’ ‘ome to-day!

Troopin’, troopin’, winter’s round again!

See the new draf’s pourin’ in for the old campaign;

Ho, you poor recruities, but you’ve got to earn your pay —

What’s the last from Lunnon, lads? We’re goin’ there to-day.

Troopin’, troopin’, give another cheer —

‘Ere’s to English women an’ a quart of English beer.

The Colonel an’ the regiment an’ all who’ve got to stay,

Gawd’s mercy strike ’em gentle — Whoop! we’re goin’ ‘ome to-day.

We’re goin’ ‘ome, we’re goin’ ‘ome,

Our ship is at the shore,

An’ you must pack your ‘aversack,

For we won’t come back no more.

Ho, don’t you grieve for me,

My lovely Mary-Ann,

For I’ll marry you yit on a fourp’ny bit

As a time-expired man.

www.vicsocotra.com