Writ in Barracks

Captains in their places.
Wish the day was over, and I wish the job was done!

Wot a lot of civvies!
Mus' be 'arf the city!
Like a mob on Boxing-night outside Drury Lane!
Ain't it perfect weather?
More's the blessed pity!
Wish instead of sunshine it was pourin' 'ard o' rain!

Comes of bein' famous —
Mentioned in despatches!
Comes of me a-carrying the Major to the rear!
Empty stomach fighting —
Getting sleep by snatches! —
'Ow the troops must cuss me for a-keeping them out 'ere!

'Ow the people eye me,
Like a choice chrysanth'um!
'Ow this collar's chokin' me! – Lord! I'm feelin' sick!
Troops are at the 'shoulder' —
'Pre-sent' – there's the anthem!
'Ow I 'ope 'er Majesty will get it over quick!

Wonder if I'm dusty?
'Elmet feels lopsided!
Chuck a chest for 'Eaven's sake! Lord, I'm feelin' queer!
Twenty times they've brushed me,
Twice 'ave I been tidied,
Yet I'm feelin' mucky still. Private Jawkins? 'ERE!

Face the lan-dow panels,
Dumbly; likewise blindly,
Seein' in a sorter mist a lady dressed in black:
'Ear 'er sof'ly talkin'.
Thanks, mum, thank you kindly!
Saw the Major fallin', and I 'ad to take 'im back!

Thank you, mum – your 'Ighness —
Majesty, I mean, mum!
'M sure I'm much obliged to you for this 'ere pretty Cross!
Bless you, you're a lady!
Mean you are the Queen, mum!
On'y picked the Major up an' shoved 'im on an 'orse!

'Saw our Sub go under,
'Alf 'is men around 'im
Cut to bits – an' 'im so young, – yes mum, very sad.
Yes mum, 'e was buried
In the place we found 'im.
Thank you, mum, – your Majesty (God, I'm feelin' bad!)

ARTHUR

'Oo's the Gen'ral 'ere? sez I;
'Oo's the Gen'ral 'ere?
'O, 'e's a Prince o' the Royal Blood, so you 'aven't got
nothin' to fear.'
But 'e marched me 'ere, an' 'e marched me there,
To burn blank cartridges everywhere;
An' 'e made me sweat, an' 'e made me swear —
Did Arthur!

Wot can the Gen'ral do? sez I;
Wot can the Gen'ral do?
'O, 'e 's a Prince o' the Royal Blood, an' 'e don't know
much about you!'
But 'e doubled me round on a big field day:
An' 'e checked me for loafin' – a mile away!
An' I found there's a time for work an' play
With Arthur!

Wot 'as the Gen'ral done, sez I?
Wot 'as the Gen'ral done?
'O, 'e's a Prince o' the Royal Blood, an' they chucked 'im 'is
rank for fun!'
But that was a lie, for I found out since
'E's ninepence a soldier an' thruppence a prince!
'E stood fire in Egypt, an' 'e didn't wince!
Not Arthur!

Wot does the Gen'ral know? sez I;
Wot does the Gen'ral know?
'O, 'e's a Prince o' the Royal Blood, an' 'e 's on'y
got up for show!'
But I 'chanced' kit inspection, an' thought it a 'cert.';
But 'e put me down, smart, for a tunic an' shirt!
An', insult to injury – checked me for dirt!
Did Arthur!

'Ow is 'e liked by you? sez I;
'Ow is 'e liked by you?
'O, 'e's a Prince o' the Royal Blood, but I reckon
some'ow 'e'll do!'
I'm willin' to risk, as I've done before,
A Fox 'Ills fight, or a native war,
Or front rank man in an Army Corps,
With Arthur!

Wot is 'e, after all? sez I;