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@@ -1,35 +1,4 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of On Patrol, by John Graham Bower and Klaxon - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org - - -Title: On Patrol - -Author: John Graham Bower - Klaxon - -Release Date: January 29, 2013 [EBook #41944] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ASCII - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ON PATROL *** - - - - -Produced by sp1nd, Mary Akers and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive) - - - - - - - +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 41944 *** Transcriber's note: Spelling and punctuation inconsistencies, mainly quotes that @@ -564,9 +533,9 @@ AN ADMINISTRATIVE VICTORY. Pipe the side or stern or bow, stand to attention smartly now-- Wherever he comes aboard." - The Admiral landed Cabre-wise + The Admiral landed Cabré-wise And high the fountains burst-- - (What is the meaning of Cabre-wise? To men of the air it signifies-- + (What is the meaning of Cabré-wise? To men of the air it signifies-- His after-end was first). They piped the side, and still they stood @@ -735,7 +704,7 @@ A NIGHTMARE. When the cannon ceased abruptly and they heard the Germans cheer, And a sergeant entered roaring, "Himmel, Ach! was Schmutz ist hier! Mask your faces, pig-dogs, quickly--all the room is full of gas. - Vorwaerts, Carl der Kindermoerder--use your bayonet, Saxon ass!" + Vorwärts, Carl der Kindermörder--use your bayonet, Saxon ass!" Faithful to the last, the Chairman, spying strangers all around, Told them they were out of order; hardly seemed to touch the ground. Told them of his best intentions, how with love of them he burned, @@ -2299,358 +2268,4 @@ OVERDUE. 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You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org - - -Title: On Patrol - -Author: John Graham Bower - Klaxon - -Release Date: January 29, 2013 [EBook #41944] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ON PATROL *** - - - - -Produced by sp1nd, Mary Akers and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive) - - - - - - - - -Transcriber's note: - Spelling and punctuation inconsistencies, mainly quotes that - had not been closed, have been harmonized. Italic text has - been marked with _underscores_. - - - - -ON PATROL - - - - - ON PATROL - - BY - KLAXON - AUTHOR OF 'H. M. S. ----' - - - William Blackwood and Sons - Edinburgh and London - 1919 - - - - -_TO D. V. B._ - - - They watch us leaving harbour for the greatest game of all, - And wonder if we're coming back across the greedy sea; - They never know the fighting thrill or high adventure's call-- - I rather think the women folk are better men than we. - But I suspect they say of us as out to sea we go, - In all our panoply of pride from Orkney to the Nore: - "It keeps them quiet, we suppose--they like the work, we know-- - And soon perhaps they'll tire and play some safer game than War." - - - - -CONTENTS. - - - PAGE - - TO---- 1 - - OLD WOMEN 5 - - CHIN UP 9 - - "... THAT HAVE NO DOUBTS" 15 - - SKY SIGNS 21 - - AN ENTENTE 27 - - A BATTLE-PRAYER 33 - - SUBMARINES 35 - - THE BATTLE-FLEET 36 - - DESTROYERS 37 - - AN ADMINISTRATIVE VICTORY 39 - - A NIGHTMARE 49 - - RELEASED 57 - - REGULUS 63 - - A NORTH SEA NOTE 67 - - SOMETHING WRONG 73 - - WE 77 - - THE SAILOR'S VIEW 83 - - STONEWALL JACKSON 89 - - WET SHIPS 93 - - THAT BLINKIN' CAT 99 - - 1797 105 - - AFTER THE WAR 109 - - LOW VISIBILITY 117 - - HANG ON 123 - - TO FRITZ 129 - - TO THE SCOTTISH REGIMENTS 135 - - PRIVILEGED 141 - - "OUR ANNUAL" 147 - - MASCOTS 151 - - A HYMN OF DISGUST 157 - - A TRINITY 165 - - IN THE MORNING 173 - - IN FORTY WEST 179 - - A RING AXIOM 183 - - THE QUARTERMASTER 187 - - IN THE BARRED ZONE 193 - - WHO CARES? 199 - - THE UNCHANGING SEX 203 - - LOOKING AFT 209 - - A MAXIM 215 - - THE CRISIS 219 - - A SEA CHANTY 223 - - A.D. 400 229 - - OVERDUE 233 - - - - -TO---- - - - - -TO----. - - - He went to sea on the long patrol, - Away to the East from the Corton Shoal, - But now he's overdue. - He signalled me as he bore away - (A flickering lamp through leaping spray, - And darkness then till judgment day), - "So long! Good luck to you!" - - He's waiting out on the long patrol, - Till the names are called at the muster-roll - Of seamen overdue. - Far above him, in wind and rain, - Another is on patrol again-- - The gap is closed in the Naval Chain - Where all the links are new. - - Over his head the seas are white, - And the wind is blowing a gale to-night, - As if the Storm-King knew, - And roared a ballad of sleet and snow - To the man that lies on the sand below, - A trumpet-song for the winds to blow - To seamen overdue. - - Was it sudden or slow--the death that came? - Roaring water or sheets of flame? - The end with none to view? - No man can tell us the way he died, - But over the clouds Valkyries ride - To open the gates and hold them wide - For seamen overdue. - - But whether the end was swift or slow, - By the Hand of God, or a German blow, - My messmate overdue-- - You went to Death--and the whisper ran - As over the Gates the horns began, - _Splendour of God! We have found a man_-- - Good-bye! Good luck to you! - - - - -OLD WOMEN - - - - -OLD WOMEN. - - - Faint against the twilight, dim against the evening, - Fading into darkness against the lapping sea, - She sailed away from harbour, from safety into danger, - The ship that took him from me--my sailor boy from me. - - He went away to join her, from me that loved and bore him, - Loved him ere I bore him, that was all the world to me. - "No time for leave, mother, must be back this evening, - Time for our patrol again, across the winter sea." - - Six times over, since he went to join her, - Came he to see me, to run back again. - "Four hours' leave, mother--still got the steam up, - Going on patrol to-night--the old East lane." - - "Seven times lucky, and perhaps we'll have a battle, - Then I'll bring a medal back and give it you to keep." - And his name is in the paper, with close upon a hundred, - Who lie there beside him, many fathom deep. - - And beside him in the paper, somebody is writing, - --God! but how I hate him--a liar and a fool,-- - "Where is the British Navy--is it staying in the harbours? - Has the Nelson spirit in the Fleet begun to cool?" - - - - -CHIN UP - - - - -CHIN UP. - - - Are the prices high and taxes stiff, is the prospect sad and dark? - Have you seen your capital dwindle down as low as the German mark? - Do you feel your troubles around you rise in an endless dreary wall? - Well--thank your God you were born in time for the Greatest War of all. - - It will be all right in a thousand years--you won't be bankrupt then. - This isn't the time of stocks and shares, it's just the age of men. - The one that sticks it out will win--so don't lie down and bawl, - But thank your God you've helped to win the noblest War of all. - - Away to the East in Flanders' mud, through Dante's dream of Hell, - The troops are working hard for peace with bayonet, bomb, and shell, - With poison gas and roaring guns beneath a smoking pall; - Yes--thank your God your kin are there--the finest troops of all. - - You may be stripped of all you have--it may be all you say, - But you'll have your life and eyesight left, so stow your talk of pay. - You won't be dead in a bed of lime with those that heard the Call; - So thank your God you've an easy job in the Greatest War of all. - - It isn't the money that's going to count when the Flanders' men return, - And a shake of your hand from Flanders' men is a thing you've - got to earn. - Just think how cold it's going to be in the Nation's Judgment Hall; - So damn your troubles and find your soul in the Greatest War of all! - - - - -"... THAT HAVE NO DOUBTS" - - - - -"... THAT HAVE NO DOUBTS." - - --RUDYARD KIPLING. - - - _The last resort of Kings are we, but the voice of peoples too_-- - Ask the guns of Valmy Ridge-- - Lost at the Beresina Bridge, - When the Russian guns were roaring death and the Guard was - charging through. - - _Ultima Ratio Regis, we--but he who has may hold,_ - Se curantes Dei curant, - Hear the gunners that strain and pant, - As when before the rising gale the Great Armada rolled. - - _Guns of fifty--sixty tons that roared at Jutland fight_, - Clatter and clang of hoisting shell; - See the flame where the salvo fell - Amidst the flash of German guns against the wall of white. - - _The sons of English carronade or Spanish culverin_-- - The Danish windows shivered and broke - When over the sea the children spoke, - And groaning turrets rocked again as we went out and in. - - _We have no passions to call our own, we work for serf or lord,_ - Load us well and sponge us clean-- - Be your woman a slave or queen-- - And we will clear the road for you who hold us by the sword. - - _We come into our own again and wake to life anew_-- - Put your paper and pens away, - For the whole of the world is ours to-day, - And we shall do the talking now to smooth the way for you. - - _Howitzer gun or Seventy-five, the game is ours to play,_ - And hills may quiver and mountains shake, - But the line in front shall bend or break. - What is it to us if the world is mad? For we are the Kings to-day. - - - - -SKY SIGNS - - - - -SKY SIGNS. - - - WHEN ALL THE GUNS ARE SPONGED AND CLEANED, AND FUZES GO TO STORE, - WHEN ALL THE WIRELESS STATIONS CRY--"COME HOME, YOU SHIPS OF WAR"-- - "COME HOME AGAIN AND LEAVE PATROL, NO MATTER WHERE YOU BE." - We'll see the lights of England shine, - Flashing again on the steaming line, - As out of the dark the long grey hulls come rolling in from sea. - - THE LONG-FORGOTTEN LIGHTS WILL SHINE AND GILD THE CLOUDS AHEAD, - OVER THE DARK HORIZON-LINE, ACROSS THE DREAMING DEAD - THAT WENT TO SEA WITH THE DARK BEHIND AND THE SPIN OF A COIN BEFORE. - Mark the gleam of Orfordness, - Showing a road we used to guess, - From the Shetland Isles to Dover cliffs--the shaded lane of war. - - UP THE CHANNEL WITH GLEAMING PORTS WILL HOMING SQUADRONS GO, - AND SEE THE ENGLISH COAST ALIGHT WITH HEADLANDS ALL AGLOW - WITH THIRTY THOUSAND CANDLE-POWER FLUNG UP FROM FAR GRIS-NEZ. - Portland Bill and the Needles' Light-- - Tompions back in the guns to-night-- - For English lights are meeting French across the Soldiers' Way. - - WHEN WE COME BACK TO ENGLAND THEN, WITH ALL THE WARRING DONE, - AND PAINT AND POLISH COME UP THE SIDE TO RULE ON TUBE AND GUN, - WE'LL KNOW BEFORE THE ANCHOR'S DOWN, THE TIDINGS WON'T BE NEW. - Lizard along to the Isle of Wight, - Every lamp was burning bright, - Northern Lights or Trinity House--we had the news from you! - - - - -AN ENTENTE - - - - -AN ENTENTE. - - - AS we were running the Channel along, with a rising wind abeam, - Steering home from an escort trip as fast as she could steam, - I'd just come up, relieving Bill, to look for Fritz again, - When I turns to the Skipper an', "Sir," I says, "I 'ears an aeroplane." - An' sure enough, from out o' the clouds astern, we seed 'im come, - An' down the wind the engine sang with a reg'lar oarin' 'um. - The Skipper 'e puts 'is glasses down, an' smilin' says to me, - "We needn't be pointin' guns at 'im--'e's one o' the R.F.C. - We don't expect to meet the Boche, or any o' his machines, - From here to France an' back again--except for submarines." - An' 'e looks again at the 'plane above, an' says, "I do believe - It's a fightin' bus--good luck to them--an' lots of London leave." - - An' jolly good luck, says I, says I, - To you that's overhead; - An' may you never go dry, go dry, - Or want for a decent bed. - With yer gaudy patch, says I, says I, - Of Red an' White an' Blue-- - Oh, may the bullets go by, go by, - An' not be findin' you. - Astonishing luck, says I, says I, - To you an' yer aeroplane; - An' if it's yer joss to die, to die, - When you go back again-- - May the enemy say as you drop below, - An' you start your final dive: - "Three of us left to see him go, - An' it must be nice for him to know, - That wasn't afraid o' five." - - - - -A BATTLE-PRAYER - - - - -A BATTLE-PRAYER. - - -SUBMARINES. - - When the breaking wavelets pass all sparkling to the sky, - When beyond their crests we see the slender masts go by, - When the glimpses alternate in bubbles white and green, - And funnels grey against the sky show clear and fair between, - When the word is passed along--"Stern and beam and bow"-- - "Action stations fore and aft--all torpedoes now!" - When the hissing tubes are still, as if with bated breath - They waited for the word to loose the silver bolts of death, - When the Watch beneath the Sea shall crown the great Desire, - And hear the coughing rush of air that greets the word to fire, - We'll ask for no advantage, Lord--but only we would pray - That they may meet this boat of ours upon their outward way. - - -THE BATTLE-FLEET. - - The moment we have waited long - Is closing on us fast, - When, cutting short the turret-gong, - We'll hear the Cordite's Battle-song - That hails the Day at last. - The clashing rams come driving forth - To meet the waiting shell, - And far away to East and North - Our targets steam to meet Thy Wrath, - And dare the Gates of Hell. - We do not ask Thee, Lord, to-day - To stay the sinking sun-- - But hear Thy steel-clad servants pray, - And keep, O Lord, Thy mists away - Until Thy work is done. - - -DESTROYERS. - - Through the dark night - And the fury of battle - Pass the destroyers in showers of spray. - As the Wolf-pack to the flank of the cattle, - We shall close in on them--shadows of grey. - In from ahead, - Through shell-flashes red, - We shall come down to them, after the Day. - Whistle and crash - Of salvo and volley - Round us and into us while we attack. - Light on our target they'll flash in their folly, - Splitting our ears with the shrapnel-crack. - - Fire as they will, - We'll come to them still, - Roar as they may at us--Back--Go Back! - White though the sea - To the shell-flashes foaming, - We shall be there at the death of the Hun. - Only we pray for a star in the gloaming - (Light for torpedoes and none for a gun). - Lord--of Thy Grace - Make it a race, - Over the sea with the night to run. - - - - -AN ADMINISTRATIVE VICTORY - - - - -AN ADMINISTRATIVE VICTORY. - - - A tale is told of a captain bold - Of E-boat Seventy-two; - She steered to eastward--pitched and rolled, and Poulson swore at her, - damp and cold, - As E-boat captains do. - - And off the mouth of the German Bight, - With Borkum on the bow, - She saw the smoke of a German fleet--MIND YOUR FINGERS--SEVENTY FEET! - WE'RE IN FOR BUSINESS NOW.... - - (For enemy ships are hard to find-- - You have to take them quick; - So copy the Eastern vulture's rule, that waits for days for an - Army mule-- - Always ready to click.) - - Out to the west from Helgoland - The big grey cruiser steered, - And the glinting rays of a rising sun flashed on funnel and - mast and gun, - And--Admiral Schultz's beard. - - Down the wind the E-boat came - And passed the searching screen; - Nobody guessed the boat was there, till they heard the wallop and - saw the flare-- - Where the pride of the fleet had been. - - 'Twixt white and green of dancing waves - The racing tracks were seen, - And Poulson watching them get there, cried--_Hold the crockery-- - Starboard side!_ - _For the kick of a magazine!_ - - The escort ran and the cruisers ran - At the thought of an English snare; - Scattered and spread to left and right, to the friendly arms of - the German Bight, - And left the ocean bare. - - Then the coffee was spilt, the E-boat rolled - To a deuce of a shaking bang; - To the sound of the hammer of Aser-Thor, victory-song of Naval War, - The hull of the E-boat rang. - - And Poulson swinging the eye-piece round, - Lifted eyebrows high, - For far aloft, when the smoke had cleared, he saw the flash of a - golden beard - Against the empty sky. - - "Admiral over! _Surface_, lads! - He's flying a belted sword; - Pipe the side or stern or bow, stand to attention smartly now-- - Wherever he comes aboard." - - The Admiral landed Cabré-wise - And high the fountains burst-- - (What is the meaning of Cabré-wise? To men of the air it signifies-- - His after-end was first). - - They piped the side, and still they stood - To watch him struggle and heave, - As he fought the slope of the rounded deck (for none could pull at an - Admiral's neck - Without the Admiral's leave). - - They took him below, and sat him down - On the edge of the Captain's bed,-- - Treatment vile for a foemen caught, they gave him a bottle of - Navy Port-- - Fiery, dark, and red. - - They landed him at a Naval Base, - With S. two-twenty D. - _Supplied_--_a large and bearded Hun: Grosse Admirals, angry, One-- - For draft to Admiraltee._ - - And Grosse-Admiral Schultz von Schmidt, - Graf von Hansa-Zoom, - Faded away to Donnington Hall, to an English park with a guarded wall - --To an elegant private room. - - And there he paced the carpet up, - And paced the carpet down, - "Alte Himmel!"--the prisoners cried--"Some one's trod on the - German pride, - And dared the Hansa frown!" - - The Admiral called for a fountain pen - And Reference Sheets[1] galore, - And silence fell on the smoking-room--for Grosse-Admiral Hansa-Zoom - Was throwing a Gage of War. - - "_Can I believe your Lordships mean - To stand so idly by-- - When a young lieutenant of twenty-four, pleading the need of Naval War, - Shall make an Admiral fly?_ - - _Never shall I believe it true - That I should have to fall - On an icy sea with an awful spank, by the act of one of a junior rank, - I--Schultz, of Donnington Hall._" - - Their Lordships read--and bells were heard - That woke the echoing past; - And Scouts and messengers jumped and fled--till all was still as a - world of dead - Beneath the wireless mast. - - My Lords in solemn conclave drew - Behind a bolted door, - Threshing it out in full debate--"Is it a case for an Acting Rate? - Or use of Martial Law?" - - At four o'clock in the afternoon, - With tea-cups clattering past, - Along the echoing Portland floor the whisper passed from door to door-- - "_They've settled it all at last!_" - - And I have the word of a lady fair - In Room Two Thousand B-- - (A perfect peach, I beg to state), who typed the letter in triplicate - And passed it on to me. - - "_We find the Enemy Admiral's Note - Is based on Service Law-- - That disrespect to a Flag afloat has sullied the fame of Poulson's boat - Despite the Needs of War._ - - _But he erred unknowing--so we shall mask - His breach of Service pomp,-- - We'll make him an Admiral, D.S.B.[2]--Acting--payless--biscuit free, - In lieu of lodging and Comp._ - - _We'll rate him at once as an A.I.O.[3] - With a K.R.A. and an I.,[4] - We'll make him a deputy C.P.O.,[5] with Rank of Admiral, whether or no, - And a beautiful Flag to fly._" - - And now when Poulson sails to war - In E-boat Seventy-two, - The boatswains pipe and the bugles blare, "_Stand to attention-- - forward there_! - _The Admiral's passing you!_" - - That is the tale as told to me - By a friend from Beatty's Fleet, - When over a glass (or even two), he swore to me that the tale was true, - In a Tavern in Regent Street. - - [1] A letter-form which enables the sender to address his - Seniors more abruptly than he would dare to do without its - assistance. - - [2] D.S.B. = Duty Steam Boat. - - [3] A.I.O. = Admiralty Interim Order. - - [4] K.R.A.I. = King's Regulations and Admiralty Instructions. - - [5] C.P.O. = Chief Petty Officer. - - - - -A NIGHTMARE - - - - -A NIGHTMARE. - - - The Council of Democracy around the table drew - (The table was a beauty--it was polished--it was new, - Twenty feet from side to side and half a mile in length, - Built of rosewood and mahogany of double extra strength. - The C in C had gone to jail to answer to the charge - Of saying what he thought about Democracy at large. - So the Council of Democracy had taken on the job, - After voting the removal of his Autocratic nob. - And the table was erected in a calm secluded spot, - Well away from any trenches, lest a voter should be shot). - And the Chairman raised a hammer and he hit the board a whack, - No one paid the least attention, so he put the hammer back. - Then he read the lengthy minutes of the gathering before, - To the ever-growing murmur of the Democratic snore. - And he put before the meeting all the questions of the day, - Such as "Shorter hours for Delegates, and seven times the pay." - With a minor matter for the end--"What shall the Council do - About this fellow Mackensen? they say he's coming through - With a hundred thousand hirelings of the Hohenzollern Line, - And breaking all the Union Rules by working after nine." - At this a group of Delegates departed for the door, - To consult with their constituents the conduct of the War. - The remainder started voting on the Delegation Pay, - And agreed with unanimity to seven quid a day. - They decided that unless the Germans travelled very fast, - There'd be time for all the speeches--so they took the matter last. - But just as Mr Blithers to the Chairman had addressed - His opinion--he departed for the Country of the Blest, - (Both in body and in spirit to the heavens he departed, - And the Council looked dispirited, though hardly broken-hearted). - All the delegates were wondering from whence the shell had come; - One arose to ask a question--Bang!!--he went to Kingdom Come. - "Mr Chairman," cried a Delegate. "A point of order! I - Don't believe the Huns are coming--it's an Autocratic lie. - I shall move the Army question do be left upon the Table, - And I'm going home to England just as fast as I am able." - Then he gathered up his papers, and was pushing back his chair, - When a heavy high explosive sent him sailing in the air. - The Chairman beat his hammer on the table all the while, - Yelling oaths and calling "Order" in a Democratic style. - But the Delegates were started on the question of the War, - (So as not to waste the speeches that they'd written out before). - And the Council of Democracy--a thousand fluent tongues-- - Let the Germans have it hearty from its Democratic lungs. - Through the bursting of the shrapnel they were constant to the end,-- - Kept referring to each other as "My honourable friend." - And in groups of ten and twenty they were blasted into space - By the disrespectful cannon of an Autocratic race, - Till the gathering had dwindled to an incoherent few, - Who were still explaining volubly what England ought to do, - When the cannon ceased abruptly and they heard the Germans cheer, - And a sergeant entered roaring, "Himmel, Ach! was Schmutz ist hier! - Mask your faces, pig-dogs, quickly--all the room is full of gas. - Vorwärts, Carl der Kindermörder--use your bayonet, Saxon ass!" - Faithful to the last, the Chairman, spying strangers all around, - Told them they were out of order; hardly seemed to touch the ground. - Told them of his best intentions, how with love of them he burned, - Shouted as the bayonet caught him, "Ow! the Council is adjourned!" - - - - -RELEASED - - - - -RELEASED. - - - We are drifting back from the End of Hell to the home we long for so,-- - Back from the land of fear and hate that jeers at wounded men; - Maimed and crippled are we to-day, but free from curse or blow-- - That we knew too well in the land of Cain, the guarded prisoners' den. - - We drift away to the homes we left a thousand years ago, - And there we wait in the Truce of God for the hand of Death to fall, - Waiting aside in hovel or hall--where only neighbours know-- - The broken men that the War has left to shun the gaze of all. - - Is it nothing to you that pass us by--hurrying on your way, - Whispering low of peace and rest to the tune of a German song? - Only but for the Grace of God you might be where we lay-- - With festering wounds in a truck for beasts, the butt - of a laughing throng. - - Peace and Rest? The peace will come when God shall stay His hand, - And change the heart of the German race that mocks at wounded men. - The rest you seek? What need of that? you fight for a Christian land, - And all Eternity waits for you--what need of rest till then? - - We are broken and down in the fight of the world for an end - to heathen lust, - But the sword we dropped when the darkness came is yours to handle yet. - If you sheathe the sword for a greed of gold or suffer the steel - to rust, - The curse of the captive men be yours--the day when you forget--! - - - - -REGULUS - - - - -REGULUS. - - (Written after reading the story of that name in 'A Diversity - of Creatures' by Kipling.) - - - Out to the wharf where the long ship lay with her beak to the open sea, - He went by the way of the merchantmen that trade to the ports of Spain; - Clamouring folk beside him ran with sorrowing voice or wailing plea: - "Hero--Pride of the Roman State! Turn again at the Harbour-Gate, - Back and away from Tyrian hate with us to Rome again." - - Out on the wharf he walked from those--that wailed and wept - to see him go; - And hand in his she walked with him--her royal head on high. - And the crowd was still as she turned and spoke--her hand in his and - her eyes aglow: - "Here where the tide and Tiber foam, I turn from you to an empty home. - But alone of women of wailing Rome I have no tears to dry; - - "Pass to the sea and the Death beyond to the home of the Gods you left - for Earth; - Of all the women of Rome to-night, no pride shall equal mine. - A God, the man that leaves me now--but ah! a lover that - thought me worth-- - The whispered word of a husband true--I thank the Gods that - I hold from you - The right that fair Eurydice knew--the love of a man Divine." - - - - -A NORTH SEA NOTE - - - - -A NORTH SEA NOTE. - - - The wind that whispered softly over Kiel across the Bay, - Died away as the dark closed down, - Till the Dockyard glare showed the ending of the day - In the Fortress-Town. - - In the silence of the night as the big ships swung - To the buoys as the flood-tide made, - Came a clamour from the wind like a shield that is rung - By a foemen's blade. - - Far above the masts where the wireless showed, - Traced out against a star-lit sky, - A voice called down from the Whist-hound's road - Where the clouds went by-- - - Listen down below--In the High Sea Fleet, - For a signal that was shouted up to me - By the sailors that I left on the old, old beat, - Far out in the cold North Sea. - - They shouted up to me as the glass went down, - And they ducked to the North-West spray, - "Will you take a message to the Fortress-Town, - And the Fleet that is lying in the Bay? - - "Say that we are waiting in the waters of the North, - And we'll wait till the seas run dry-- - Or the High Sea Fleet from the Bight comes forth, - And the twelve-inch shells go by. - - "We have waited very long, but we haven't any doubt - They are longing for the day we'll meet. - But tell 'em as you pass that the sooner they are out, - All the better for the English Fleet. - - "For when we see 'em sinking--(they'll be fighting to the last, - And for those that are lost we'll grieve,) - We will cheer for a signal at the Flagship's mast-- - On arrival at the Base--Long Leave!" - - - - -SOMETHING WRONG - - - - -SOMETHING WRONG. - - - "The German Fleet is coming," - The Sunday papers say, - "And the shell will soon be humming - When they fix upon the Day." - All the Sunday experts write, - Working very late at night-- - "They are coming--they'll be on you any day." - - Though it's very cheery reading, - And we hear it ev'ry week; - Yet the Hun is still unheeding, - And is just as far to seek. - And it seems so unavailing - They should write and tell us so-- - If the Hun is shortly sailing, - Couldn't _some one_ let him know? - - We are ready, and we're waiting, - And we know they're going to fight; - And we're just as good at hating - As the Brainy Ones that write. - But they talk of Information - They have gathered unbeknown-- - That "the mighty German Nation - Is a mass of skin and bone." - And they take their affidavy - That a fight is due at sea: - _Dammit--tell the German Navy_, - What's the use of telling me? - - - - -WE - - - - -WE. - - - All our fighting brothers are away across the foam, - Hats off to the Englishman! - Here's a chance for Englishmen living safe at home, - Make a lot of money while you can! - - We are fighting for the Right and the Honour of the Race - With the Bulldog Grip they know; - Who's the silly novice there putting on the pace? - You'll be taken for a Yank--Go slow! - - All the Nations know us as the finest of the Earth; - Three cheers for the lads in blue! - An' we're drawing extra wages that are more than we are worth-- - But a half-day's work will do. - - The shades of England's fighting men are watching us with pride - As we live for England's fame; - To save us for posterity was why they went and died-- - Oh! The War is a real fine game! - - Let the War go rolling on alone for awhile, - Let the line stand fast in the West; - Let 'em learn to use the bayonet in the grand old style, - While the Bulldog Boys have a rest. - - What's the good of hurrying? British pluck'll win; - We can stand to the strain all right. - What about another rise? Send the notice in-- - Just to show how the Bulldogs fight. - - Chorus! all together--We're the finest race of all, - So beware of the English Blade; - Now the fighting men are gone--why, however many fall, - All the more for the lads that stayed. - - - - -THE SAILOR'S VIEW - - - - -THE SAILOR'S VIEW. - -(1916). - - - Too proud to fight? I'm not so sure--our skipper now and then - Has lectured to us on patrol on foreign ships and men, - And other nation's submarines, when cruising round the Bight; - And 'seems to me--when they begin--the Yankee chaps can fight. - Why, if I was in the army (which I ain't--and no regrets) - And had my pick of Generals--from London's latest pets, - To Hannibal and Wellington--to follow whom I chose, - I wouldn't think about it long--I'd give the job to those - Who fought across a continent for three long years and more - (I bet the neutral papers didn't say in 'sixty-four - Of Jackson, Sherman, Lee and Grant--"The Yanks can only shout"-- - That lot was somewhere near the front when pluck was handed out); - But what the Skipper said was this; "There's only been but one - Successful submarine attack before this war begun, - And it wasn't on a liner on the easy German plan, - But on a well-found man-of-war, and Dixon was the man - Who showed us how to do the trick, a tip for me and you, - And I'd like to keep the standard up of Dixon and his crew, - For they hadn't got a submarine that cost a hundred thou', - But a leaky little biscuit-box, and stuck upon her bow - A spar torpedo like a mine, and they and Dixon knew - That if they sank the enemy they'd sink the _David_ too. - She'd drowned a crew or two before--they dredged her up again, - And manned and pushed her off to sea.--My oath, it's pretty plain - They had some guts to give away, that tried another trip - In a craft they knew was rather more a coffin than a ship; - And they carried out a good attack, and did it very well. - As a model for the future, why, it beats the books to Hell, - A tradition for the U.S.A., and, yes--for England too; - For they were men with English names, and kin to me and you, - And I'd like to claim an ancestor with Dixon when he died - At the bottom of the river at the _Housatonic's_ side." - - - - -STONEWALL JACKSON - - - - -STONEWALL JACKSON. - - - Over the low Virginian farms the smoke of the ev'ning rose and flowed, - The scent of cedar hung in the air--the scent of burning sap, - And up the valley the murmur died, the sound of feet on a dusty road-- - A clatter and ring of horse and guns that led to Ashby's Gap. - - And the Blue Ridge called to the Shenandoah stream, - As the Massanutton hills grew black-- - "Look your last, Shenandoah--where the bayonets gleam, - On your man who is never coming back. - - "Ah! Manassas, look again on the glimmer of the steel - That you lit with the red fires' glow, - When the Grey men roared at an all-night meal, - Look again as the Grey men go. - - "He is looking back at us with a hand across his eyes, - Look your last, Shenandoah, as he rides - To a death beyond the Gap where the dust-clouds rise, - O'er the road that the greenwood hides. - - "He will send a message back as the dark clouds lower, - And you'll hear it in the sighing of the breeze, - _Let us pass across the river (can you hear me, Shenandoah?) - To a rest in the shadow of the trees_." - - - - -WET SHIPS - - - - -WET SHIPS. - - "... And will remain on your Patrol till the 8th - December...."--(_Extract from Orders._) - - - The North-East Wind came armed and shod from the ice-locked - Baltic shore, - The seas rose up in the track he made, and the rollers raced before; - He sprang on the Wilhelmshaven ships that reeled across the tide. - "Do you cross the sea to-night with me?" the cold North-Easter cried-- - Along the lines of anchored craft the Admiral's answer flashed, - And loud the proud North-Easter laughed as the second anchors splashed. - "By God! you're right--you German men, with a three-day gale to blow, - It is better to wait by your harbour gate than follow where I go!" - - Over the Bight to the open sea the great wind sang as he sheered: - "I rule--I rule the Northern waste--I speak, and the seas are cleared; - You nations all whose harbours ring the edge of my Northern sea, - At peace or war, when you hear my voice you shall know no Lord but me." - Then into the wind in a cloud of foam and sheets of rattling spray, - Head to the bleak and breaking seas in dingy black and grey, - Taking it every lurch and roll in tons of icy green - Came out to her two-year-old patrol--an English submarine. - The voice of the wind rose up and howled through squalls of - driving white: - "You'll know my power, you English craft, before you make the Bight; - I rule--I rule this Northern Sea, that I raise and break to foam. - Whom do you call your Overlord that dares me in my home?" - Over the crest of a lifting sea in bursting shells of spray, - She showed the flash of her rounded side as over to port she lay, - Clanging her answer up the blast that made her wireless sing: - "_I serve the Lord of the Seven Seas. Ha! Splendour of God-- - the King!!_" - - Twenty feet of her bow came out, dripping and smooth it sprang, - Over the valley of green below as her stamping engines rang; - Then down she fell till the waters rose to meet her straining rails-- - "I serve my King, who sends me here to meet your winter gales." - (Rank upon rank the seas swept on and broke to let her through, - While high above her reeling bridge their shattered remnants flew); - "_If you blow the stars from the sky to-night, your boast in - your teeth I'll fling, - I am your master--Overlord, and--Dog of the English King!_" - - - - -THAT BLINKIN' CAT - - - - -THAT BLINKIN' CAT. - - (Late of H.M.S. _Maidstone_.) - - - In the Diving-room, where the O.O.D.[6] his weary vigil keeps, - Battered and scarred with years of strife behind the door she sleeps, - Fighting her battles o'er again as ancient warriors may, - With bristling fur as she dreams anew of many a noble fray. - Savage and Silent, - Swift in the onslaught - As the great eagle - Stoops to the victim; - Guard of the Gangway, - Dreadful--prolific, - Mother of hundreds, - Terrier-Strafer, - Messenger-biter. - Hail to the guard of the _Maidstone's_ Gangway--Skoal! - - Sing of the day the air was full of words like "Alabaster," - When she ate a piece of the Corporal's hand and bit the Quartermaster; - The day she fought with an Airedale dog and drove him back to shore-- - For the sake of her sixty little ones, she fought--and had some more. - Faithful and loyal, - Guard of the Gangway, - Turning the dogs back-- - Yelping and howling. - Biting her masters-- - Corporals--any one - Fiercely domestic, - Easily queen of-- - Pugnacious obstetrics-- - Motherly War. - Hail to the terror and pride of the _Maidstone_--Skoal!! - - Sing of the day she won the fray with a new "Pandora" dog, - And the Quartermaster shone with pride as he entered in the log: - "At 10 P.M. we dowsed our pipes and drew the _Nettle's_ fires, - At 10.15 six births aboard--_that blinkin' cat of ours_!" - - [6] O.O.D.--Officer of the day. - - - - -1797. - - - - -1797. - - - Our brothers of the landward side - Are bound by Church and stall, - By Councils OEcumenical, - By Gothic arches tall; - But we who know the cold grey sea, - The salt and flying spray, - We praise the Lord in our fathers' way, - In the simple faith of the sea we pray, - To the God that the winds and waves obey - Who sailed on Galilee. - We pray as the Flag-Lieutenant prayed, - At St Vincent's cabin door - (Twenty sail of the line in view-- - South-West by South they bore): - "O Lord of Hosts, I praise Thee now, - And bow before Thy might, - Who has given us fingers and hands to fight, - And twenty ships of the line in sight; - Thou knewest, O Lord, and placed them right-- - To leeward, on the bow." - - - - -AFTER THE WAR - - - - -AFTER THE WAR. - - - That far-off day when Peace is signed (and all the papers say-- - "A most important by-election starts at Kew to-day; - We urge our readers one and all to loyally support - The Independent Candidate--Count Katzenjammerdordt") - Will change a lot of little things--perhaps we'll get some leave, - And hear a yarn of extra pay, which no one will believe; - The salvage ships will hurry out, two thousand wrecks to find, - The monuments to Kultur that the Huns have left behind. - We'll watch the sweepers put to sea ten million mines to seek, - And--Patrol Flotilla Exercise will start within a week; - Someone Big will say to Someone: "Time for work and time for play, - (Rub his hands together briskly) We'll commence the work to-day; - They have had their fun and fighting, and they must be getting slack, - Stop all leave and start manoeuvres--for the good old times are back." - Then destroyers and torpedo-boats and submarines and oilers - Will receive a little notice headed "Maintenance of Boilers," - "To economise in fuel while the ships are out at sea - Each pound of steam will count as two, and every knot as three." - We'll have the old manoeuvre Rules to show us what to do. - "I rose within two thousand yards and have torpedoed you," - "My counter-claim is obvious--to port you must retire," - "I sank you with a Maxim gun just as you rose to fire." - Ships will carry navigation lights--"Precautionary Measure," - "An infringement of this solemn rule incurs My Lords' Displeasure." - Yes, the after-war manoeuvres will be fearful to behold, - Not been held since nineteen--("half a minute, surely you've - been told"), - Hush, you'll get me into trouble ("it was eighteen months ago-- - And the whole Grand Fleet was in it--I was there, I ought to know: - _Red Fleet to start from Helgoland and Blue from Udsire Light, - To meet in sixty-twenty North and have a morning fight. - No ship should cross a line between the Jahde and Amrum Bank, - But should a German flag be seen (unless of junior rank),_ - _No captain can do very wrong who indicates by guns-- - We won't have our manoeuvres spoilt by interfering Huns._ - Perhaps the wording isn't right, perhaps it isn't true, - But we've got to have manoeuvres when there's nothing else to do.") - And when the Censor fades away and leaves the presses clear - For all the "Truths about the War," by "One who has no fear," - And all the "Contract Scandals," by "A Clerk behind the Door," - The book I want to see in print is "Humours of the War," - Though I fear the other Censor (Morals, Cinemas, and Vice) - Would expurgate the best of them as being hardly nice; - Still, even with the cream suppressed a volume could be filled - With the epigrams of killing and the jokes of being killed, - With a preface by the officer we rescued from the wave, - When a cloud of steam and lyddite smoke lay o'er the - "Bluecher's" grave, - Who, as the bowmen fished him out and passed him aft to dry, - Read the name upon their ribbons with a twinkle in his eye, - And said: "A Westo ship, I think--I guess my luck is in, - I'm sick of German substitutes--now for some Plymouth gin." - And a picture of the sailor in a certain submarine, - Which was diving through the waters where the sweepers hadn't been, - And who heard a muffled bumping noise that passed along the side-- - A noise that many men have heard an instant ere they died; - And broke the silence following the last appalling thud - With "Good old ruddy Kaiser! there's another bloomin' dud!" - There's a story too of Jutland, or perhaps another show, - When the cruisers and destroyers had a meeting with the foe; - And as the range was closing, and they waited for the word, - From a sailor at an after-gun the following was heard: - "It isn't _that_ that turns me up--'e's not the only one"-- - But then the roar of ranging guns--the action had begun-- - And for twenty awful minutes there was undiluted hell, - With flame and steam and cordite smoke and high-explosive shell. - Then as the bugle-call rang out, the savage fire to check, - The loading numbers wiped their brows and looked around the deck: - "As I was saying," came the voice, "before this row began, - I think 'e should 've married 'er--if 'e'd bin 'alf a man." - - - - -LOW VISIBILITY - - - - -LOW VISIBILITY. - - _We sailed from the sand-isles, - In Sea Hawk and Dragon, - Over the White Water, - War-ready all of us. - Soon came the sea-mist, - Soft was the wind then, - Lay there the long-ships, - Lifting and falling. - Then cried the Captain: - "Cold is the sea-fog, - Weary is waiting-time, - Wet are the byrnies; - Burnish the breastplates, - Broadswords and axes! - Hand we the horns round, - Hail to the Dragon!"_ - - - Our gentle pirate ancestors from off the Frisian Isles - Kept station where we now patrol so many weary miles: - There were no International Laws of Hall or Halleck then, - They only knew the simple rule of "Death to beaten men." - And what they judged a lawful prize was any sail they saw - From Scarboro' to the sandy isles along the Saxon shore. - We differ from our ancestors' conception of a prize, - And we cruise about like Agag 'neath Sir Samuel Evans' eyes; - But on one eternal subject we would certainly agree: - It's seldom you can see a mile across the Northern sea, - For as the misty clouds came down and settled wet and cold, - The sodden halliards creaked and strained as to the swell they rolled. - Each yellow-bearded pirate knew beyond the veil of white - The prize of all the prizes must be passing out of sight; - And drearily they waited while metheglin in a skin - Was passed along the benches, and the oars came sliding in; - Then scramasax and battleaxe were polished up anew, - And they waited for the fog to lift, the same as me and you; - Though we're waiting on the bottom at the twenty fathom line, - We are burnishing torpedoes to a Sunday morning shine. - The sailor pauses as he quaffs his tot of Navy rum, - And listens to a noise that drowns the circulator's hum: - "D'y 'ear those blank propellers, Bill--_the blinking female dog_-- - That's Tirpitz in the 'Indenburg gone past us in the fog!" - - - - -HANG ON - - - - -HANG ON. - - - Two o' the morn, and a rising sea, I'd like to ease to slow, - But we're off on a stunt and pressed for time, so I reckon it's - Eastward Ho! - So pick up your skirts and hustle along, old woman, you've got to go-- - Look-out, you fool. Hang on! - - Up she comes on a big grey sea and winks at the misty moon, - Then down the hill like a falling lift, we're due for a beauty soon; - And here it comes--she'll be much too late--yes, damn it, she's - out of tune-- - Look-out, you fool. Hang on! - - You can feel her shake from stem to stern with the crash of her - plunging bow, - And quiver anew to the thrusting screw, and the booming engines' row; - Then _rah-rah-rah_ on a rising note--my oath, they're racing now-- - Look-out, you fool. Hang on! - - The streaky water rushes by as the crest of the sea goes past, - And you see her hull from the hydroplanes to the heel of her - wireless mast - Stand out and hang as she leaps the trough to dive at the next - one--Blast--! - Look-out, you fool. Hang on! - - In the hollow between she stops for breath, then starts her - climb anew-- - "I can see your guns and wireless mast, old girl, but I can't see you, - And you'd better be quick and lift again--she won't, she's - diving through"-- - Look-out, you fool. Hang on! - - The Lord be thanked, it's my relief--Cheer up, old sport, it's clean; - No, just enough to wash your face--you could hardly call it green; - A jolly good sea-boat this one is, at least, for a submarine-- - Look-out, you fool. Hang on! - - - - -TO FRITZ - - - - -TO FRITZ. - - - I wish that I could be a Hun, to dive about the sea-- - I wouldn't go for merchantmen, a man-of-war for me; - There are lots of proper targets for attacking, little Fritz, - But you seem to like the merchantmen, and blowing them to bits. - I suppose it must be easy fruit to get an Iron Cross - By strafing sail and cargo ships--but don't you feel the loss - Of the wonderful excitement when you face a man-of-war, - And tearing past you overhead the big propellers roar? - When you know that it's a case of "May the fish run good and true," - For if they don't it's ten to one it's R.I.P. for you? - Although perhaps you can't be blamed--your motives may be pure-- - You're rather new to submarines--in fact, an amateur; - But we'd like to take your job awhile and show you how it's done, - And leave you on the long patrol to wait your brother Hun. - You wouldn't like the job, my lad--the motors turning slow, - You wouldn't like the winter-time--storm and wind and snow; - You'd find it weary waiting, Fritz--unless your faith is strong-- - Up and down on the long patrol--How long, O Lord, how long? - We don't patrol for merchant ships, there's none but neutrals there, - Up and down on the old patrol, you can hear the E-boat's prayer: - "Give us a ten-knot breeze, O Lord, with a clear and blazing sky, - And help our eyes at the periscope as the High Sea Fleet goes by." - - - - -TO THE SCOTTISH REGIMENTS - - - - -TO THE SCOTTISH REGIMENTS. - - - _Land of sorrow--war and weeping, - Granite rock and falling snow, - Where Romance is never sleeping, - Where the fires of freedom glow._ - - Where the spark has never died, be the cause however lost, - Be the breath however humble that would fan it to a flame; - From the shieling, from the castle, did they ever count the cost - Ere they went to meet a rebel's death and perished for a name? - - While England learnt the Roman tongue and paid her tax to Gaul, - The Caledonian tribute clashed along the Roman wall-- - From East to West the sentinels looked out towards the North-- - "_Amboglanna has sent for aid, - For the heather is bright with targe and blade - Away to the silvery Forth._" - - When the Scottish host looked down and scorned to charge the foe - That filed around the fatal hill and crossed the stream below, - When the flowers of the forest fell and withered in the fight-- - "_Shoulder to shoulder around the King, - Hear the Claymore whistle and sing - Our funeral song to-night._" - - The English knew it at Prestonpans--the wall against their backs, - When down the slope the clansmen came with the long Lochaber axe, - The dew on the grass and the morning mist and a roar of charging men,-- - _Pipers playing on either flank-- - "Steady the volleys, the leading rank!" - The fires were blazing then._ - - And the spark has gone to Flanders, as the Prussian butchers know, - For they learnt at Loos and Hulluch from the Caledonian sword - The prayer of Anglo-Saxon priests a thousand years ago-- - "From the fury of the Northern men, deliver us, O Lord." - - - - -PRIVILEGED - - - - -PRIVILEGED. - - - They called across to Peter at the changing of the Guard, - At the red-gold Doors that the Angels keep,-- - "Send us help to the Portal, for they press upon us hard, - They are straining at the Gate, many deep." - - Then Peter rose and went to the wicket by the Wall, - Where the Starlight flashed upon the crowd; - And he saw a mighty wave from the Greatest Gale of all - Break beneath him with a roar, swelling loud-- - - "_Let us in! Let us in! We have left a load of sin - On the battlefield that flashes far below. - From the trenches or the sea there's a pass for such as we, - For we died with our faces to the foe. - - "We haven't any creed, for we never felt the need, - And our morals are as ragged as can be; - But we finished in a way that has cleared us of the clay, - And we're coming to you clean, as you can see."_ - - Then Peter looked below him with a smile upon his lips, - And he answered, "Ye are fighters, as I know - By your badges of the air, of the trenches, and the ships, - And the wounds that on your bodies glisten so." - - And he looked upon the wounds, that were many and were grim, - And his glance was all-embracing--unafraid; - And he looked to meet the eyes that were smiling up to him, - All a-level as a new-forged blade. - - "Ye are savage men and rough--from the fo'c'sle and the tent; - Ye have put High Heaven to alarm; - But I see it written clear by the road ye went, - That ye held by the Fifteenth Psalm." - - And they shouted in return, "_'Tis a thing we've never read, - But you passed our friends inside - That won to the end of the road we tread - Long ago when the Mons Men died._" - - "_Let us in! Let us in! We have fallen for the Right, - And the Crown that we listed to win, - That we earned by the Somme or the waters of the Bight; - You're a fighting man yourself--Let us in!_" - - Then Peter gave a sign and the Gates flung wide - To the sound of a bugle-call: - "Pass the fighting men to the ranks inside, - Who came from the earth or the cold grey tide, - With their heads held high and a soldiers stride, - To a Friend in the Judgment Hall." - - - - -"OUR ANNUAL" - - - - -"OUR ANNUAL." - - - Up the well-remembered fairway, past the buoys and forts we drifted-- - Saw the houses, roads, and churches as they were a year ago. - Far astern were wars and battles, all the dreary clouds were lifted, - As we turned the Elbow Ledges--felt the engines ease to "Slow." - - Rusty side and dingy paintwork, stripped for war and cleared - for battle-- - Saw the harbour-tugs around us--smelt the English fields again,-- - English fields and English hedges--sheep and horses, English cattle, - Like a screen unrolled before us, through the mist of English rain. - - Slowly through the basin entrance--twenty thousand tons a-crawling - With a thousand men aboard her, all a-weary of the War-- - Warped her round and laid alongside with the cobble-stones a-calling-- - "There's a special train awaiting, just for you to come ashore." - - Out again as fell the evening, down the harbour in the gloaming - With the sailors on the fo'c'sle looking wistfully a-lee-- - Just another year of waiting--just another year of roaming - For the Majesty of England--for the Freedom of the Sea. - - - - -MASCOTS - - - - -MASCOTS. - - - When the galleys of Phoenicia, through the gates of Hercules, - Steered South and West along the coast to seek the Tropic Seas, - When they rounded Cape Agulhas, putting out from Table Bay, - They started trading North again, as steamers do to-day. - They dealt in gold and ivory and ostrich feathers too, - With a little private trading by the officers and crew, - Till rounding Guardafui, steering up for Aden town, - The tall Phoenician Captain called the First Lieutenant down. - "By all the Tyrian purple robes that you will never wear, - By the Temples of Zimbabwe, by King Solomon I swear, - The ship is like a stable, like a Carthaginian sty. - I am Captain here--confound you!--or I'll know the reason why. - Every sailor in the galley has a monkey or a goat; - There are parrots in the eyes of her and serpents in the boat. - By the roaring fire of Baal, I'll not have it any more: - Heave them over by the sunset, or I'll hang you at the fore!" - "What is that, sir? _Not_ as cargo? _Not_ a bit of private trade? - Well, of all the dumbest idiots you're the dumbest ever made, - Standing there and looking silly: _leave the animals alone_." - (Sailors with a tropic liver always have a brutal tone.) - "By the crescent of Astarte, I am not religious--yet-- - I would sooner spill the table salt than kill a sailor's pet." - - - - -A HYMN OF DISGUST - - - - -A HYMN OF DISGUST. - - - You wrote a pretty hymn of Hate, - That won the Kaiser's praise, - Which showed your nasty mental state, - And made us laugh for days. - I can't compete with such as you - In doggerel of mine, - But this is certain--_and_ it's true, - You bloody-handed swine-- - - We do not mouth a song of hate, or talk about you--much, - We do not mention things like you--it wouldn't be polite; - One doesn't talk in drawing-rooms of Prussian dirt and such, - We only want to kill you off--so roll along and fight. - - For men like you with filthy minds, you leave a nasty taste, - We can't forget your triumphs with the girls you met in France. - By your standards of morality, gorillas would be chaste, - And you consummate your triumphs with the bayonet and the lance. - - You give us mental pictures of your officers at play, - With naked girls a-dancing on the table as you dine, - With their mothers cut to pieces, in the knightly German way, - In the corners of the guard-room in a pool of blood and wine. - - You had better stay in Germany, and never go abroad, - For wherever you may wander you will find your fame has gone, - For you are outcasts from the lists, with rust upon your sword-- - The blood of many innocents--of children newly born. - - You are bestial men and beastly, and we would not ask you home - To meet our wives and daughters, for we doubt that you are clean; - You will find your fame in front of you wherever you may roam, - You--who came through burning Belgium with the ladies for a screen. - - You--who love to hear the screaming of a girl beneath the knife, - In the midst of your companions, with their craning, eager necks; - When you crown your German mercy, and you take a sobbing life-- - You are not exactly gentlemen towards the gentle sex. - - With your rapings in the market-place and slaughter of the weak, - With your gross and leering conduct, and your utter lack of shame,-- - When we note in all your doings such a nasty yellow streak, - You show surprise at our disgust, and say you're not to blame. - - We don't want any whinings, and we'd sooner wait for peace - Till you realise your position, and you know you whine in vain; - And you stand within a circle of the Cleaner World's Police, - And we goad you into charging--and we clean the world again. - - For you should know that never shall you meet us as before, - That none will take you by the hand or greet you as a friend; - So stay with it, and finish it--who brought about the War-- - And when you've paid for all you've done--well, that will be the End. - - - - -A TRINITY - - - - -A TRINITY. - - - The way of a ship at racing speed - In a bit of a rising gale, - The way of a horse of the only breed - At a Droxford post-and-rail, - The way of a brand-new aeroplane - On a frosty winter dawn. - You'll come back to those again; - Wheel or cloche or slender rein - Will keep you young and clean and sane, - And glad that you were born. - - The power and drive beneath me now are above the power of kings, - It's mine the word that lets her loose and in my ear she sings-- - "Mark now the way I sport and play with the rising hunted sea, - Across my grain in cold disdain their ranks are hurled at me; - But down my wake is a foam-white lake, the remnant of their line, - That broke and died beneath my pride--your foemen, man, and mine." - The perfect tapered hull below is a dream of line and curve, - An artist's vision in steel and bronze for gods and men to serve. - If ever a statue came to life, you quivering slender thing, - It ought to be you--my racing girl--as the Amazon song you sing. - - * * * * * - - Down the valley and up the slope we run from scent to view. - "Steady, you villain--you know too much--I'm not so wild as you; - You'll get me cursed if you catch him first--there's at least - a mile to go, - So swallow your pride and ease your stride, and take your fences slow. - Your high-pricked ears as the jump appears are comforting - things to see; - Your easy gallop and bending neck are signals flying to me. - You wouldn't refuse if it was wire with calthrops down in front, - And there we are with a foot to spare--you best of all the Hunt!" - Great sloping shoulders galloping strong, and a yard - of floating tail, - A fine old Irish gentleman, and a Hampshire post-and-rail. - - * * * * * - - The sun on the fields a mile below is glinting off the grass - That slides along like a rolling map as under the clouds I pass. - The early shadows of byre and hedge are dwindling dark below - As up the stair of the morning air on my idle wheels I go,-- - Nothing to do but let her alone--she's flying herself to-day; - Unless I chuck her about a bit--there isn't a bump or sway. - So _there's_ a bank at ninety-five--and here's a spin and - a spiral dive, - And here we are again. - And _that's_ a roll and twist around, and that's the sky and there's - the ground, - And I and the aeroplane - Are doing a glide, but upside down, and that's a village and that's - a town-- - And now we're rolling back. - And _this_ is the way we climb and stall and sit up and beg on - nothing at all, - The wires and strainers slack. - And now we'll try and be good some more, and open the throttle - and hear her roar - And steer for London Town. - For there never a pilot yet was born who flew a machine on a - frosty morn - But started stunting soon, - To feel if his wires were really there, or whether he flew - on ice or air, - Or whether his hands were gloved or bare, - Or he sat in a free balloon. - - - - -IN THE MORNING - - - - -IN THE MORNING. - - - Back from battle, torn and rent, - Listing bridge and stanchions bent - By the angry sea. - By Thy guiding mercy sent, - Fruitful was the road we went-- - Back from battle we. - - If Thou hadst not been, O Lord, behind our feeble arm, - If Thy hand had not been there to slam the lyddite home, - When against us men arose and sought to work us harm, - We had gone to death, O Lord, in spouting rings of foam. - - Heaving sea and cloudy sky - Saw the battle flashing by - As Thy foemen ran. - By Thy grace, that made them fly, - We have seen two hundred die - Since the fight began. - - If our cause had not been Thine, for Thy eternal Right, - If the foe in place of us had fought for Thee, O Lord! - If Thou hadst not guided us and drawn us there to fight, - We never should have closed with them--Thy seas are dark and broad. - - Through the iron rain they fled, - Bearing home the tale of dead, - Flying from Thy sword. - After-hatch to fo'c'sle head, - We have turned their decks to red, - By Thy help, O Lord! - - It was not by our feeble sword that they were overthrown, - But Thy right hand that dashed them down, the servants of the proud; - It was not arm of ours that saved, but Thine, O Lord, alone, - When down the line the guns began, and sang Thy praise aloud. - - Sixty miles of running fight, - Finished at the dawning light, - Off the Zuider Zee. - Thou that helped throughout the night - Weary hand and aching sight, - Praise, O Lord, to Thee. - - - - -IN FORTY WEST - - - - -IN FORTY WEST. - - - We are coming from the ranch, from the city and the mine, - And the word has gone before us to the towns upon the Rhine; - As the rising of the tide - On the Old-World side, - We are coming to the battle, to the Line. - - From the valleys of Virginia, from the Rockies in the North, - We are coming by battalions, for the word was carried forth: - "We have put the pen away, - And the sword is out to-day, - For the Lord has loosed the Vintages of Wrath." - - We are singing in the ships as they carry us to fight, - As our fathers sang before us by the camp-fires' light; - In the wharf-light glare - They can hear us Over There, - When the ships come steaming through the night. - - Right across the deep Atlantic where the _Lusitania_ passed, - With the battle-flag of Yankeeland a-floating at the mast, - We are coming all the while, - Over twenty hundred mile, - And were staying to the finish, to the last. - - We are many--we are one--and we're in it overhead, - We are coming as an Army that has seen its women dead, - And the old Rebel Yell - Will be loud above the shell - When we cross the top together, seeing red. - - - - -A RING AXIOM - - - - -A RING AXIOM. - - - When the pitiless gong rings out again, and they whip your chair away, - When you feel you'd like to take the floor, whatever the crowd - should say, - When the hammering gloves come back again, and the world goes round - your head, - When you know your arms are only wax, your hands of useless lead, - When you feel you'd give your heart and soul for a chance to clinch - and rest, - And through your brain the whisper comes, - "Give in, you've done your best,"-- - Why, stiffen your knees and brace your back, and take my - word as true-- - _If the man in front has got you weak, he's just as - tired as you_. - He can't attack through a gruelling fight and finish - as he began; - He's done more work than you to-day--you're just as fine a man. - So call your last reserve of pluck--he's careless - with his chin-- - You'll put it across him every time--Go in--Go in--_Go in_! - - - - -THE QUARTERMASTER - - - - -THE QUARTERMASTER. - - - I mustn't look up from the compass-card, nor look at the seas at all, - I must watch the helm and compass-card,--If I heard the trumpet-call - Of Gabriel sounding Judgment Day to dry the Seas again, - I must hold her bow to windward now till I'm relieved again-- - To the pipe and wail of a tearing gale, - Carrying Starboard Ten. - - I must stare and frown at the compass-card, that chases round the bowl, - North and South and back again with every lurching roll. - By the feel of the ship beneath I know the way she's going to swing, - But I mustn't look up to the booming wind however the halliards sing-- - In a breaking sea with the land a-lee, - Carrying Starboard Ten. - - And I stoop to look at the compass-card as closes in the night, - For it's hard to see by the shaded glow of half a candle-light; - But the spokes are bright, and I note beside in the corner of my eye - A shimmer of light on oilskin wet that shows the Owner nigh-- - Foggy and thick and a windy trick, - Carrying Starboard Ten. - - Heave and sway or dive and roll can never disturb me now; - Though seas may sweep in rivers of foam across the straining bow, - I've got my eyes on the compass-card, and though she broke her keel - And hit the bottom beneath us now, you'd find me at the wheel-- - In Davy's realm, still at the helm, - Carrying Starboard Ten. - - - - -IN THE BARRED ZONE - - - - -IN THE BARRED ZONE. - - - They called us up from England at the breaking of the day, - And the wireless whisper caught us from a hundred leagues away-- - "Sentries at the Outer Line, - All that hold the countersign, - Listen in the North Sea--news for you to-day." - - All across the waters, at the paling of the morn, - The wireless whispered softly ere the summer day was born-- - "Be you near or ranging far, - By the Varne or Weser bar, - The Fleet is out and steaming to the Eastward and the dawn." - - Far and away to the North and West, in the dancing glare of the - sunlit ocean, - Just a haze, a shimmer of smoke-cloud, grew and broadened many a mile; - Low and long and faint and spreading, banner and van of a - world in motion, - Creeping out to the North and West, it hung in the skies alone awhile. - - Then from over the brooding haze the roar of murmuring engines swelled, - And the men of the air looked down to us, a mile below their feet; - Down the wind they passed above, their course to the silver - sun-track held, - And we looked back to the West again, and saw the English Fleet. - - Over the curve of the rounded sea, in ordered lines as the - ranks of Rome, - Over the far horizon steamed a power that held us dumb,-- - Miles of racing lines of steel that flattened the sea to a - field of foam, - Rolling deep to the wash they made, - We saw, to the threat of a German blade, - The Shield of England come. - - - - -WHO CARES? - - - - -WHO CARES? - - - The sentries at the Castle Gate, - We hold the outer wall, - That echoes to the roar of hate - And savage bugle-call-- - Of those that seek to enter in with steel and eager flame, - To leave you with but eyes to weep the day the Germans came. - - Though we may catch from out the Keep - A whining voice of fear, - Of one who whispers "Rest and sleep, - And lay aside the spear," - We pay no heed to such as he, as soft as we are hard; - We take our word from men alone--the men that rule the guard. - - We hear behind us now and then - The voices of the grooms, - And bickerings of serving-men - Come faintly from the rooms; - But let them squabble as they please, we will not turn aside, - But--curse to think it was for them that fighting men have died. - - Whatever they may say or try, - We shall not pay them heed; - And though they wail and talk and lie, - We hold our simple Creed-- - No matter what the cravens say, however loud the din, - Our Watch is on the Castle Gate, and none shall enter in. - - - - -THE UNCHANGING SEX - - - - -THE UNCHANGING SEX. - - - When the battle-worn Horatius, 'midst the cheering Roman throng-- - All flushed with pride and triumph as they carried him along-- - Reached the polished porch of marble at the doorway of his home, - He felt himself an Emperor--the bravest man of Rome. - The people slapped him on the back and knocked his helm askew, - Then drifted back along the road to look for something new. - Then Horatius sobered down a bit--as you would do to-day-- - And straightened down his tunic in a calm, collected way. - He hung his battered helmet up and wiped his sandals dry, - And set a parting in his hair--the same as you and I. - His lady kissed him carefully and looked him up and down, - And gently disengaged his arm to spare her snowy gown. - "You _are_ a real disgrace, you know, the worst I've ever seen; - Now go and put your sword away, I _know_ it isn't clean. - And you must change your clothes at once, you're simply wringing wet; - You've been doing something mischievous, I hope you lost your bet.... - Why! you're bleeding on the carpet. Who's the brute that hurt you so? - Did you kill him? _There's a darling!_ Serve him right for - hitting low." - Then she hustled lots of water, turning back her pretty sleeves, - And she set him on the sofa (having taken off his greaves). - And bold Horatius purred aloud, the stern Horatius smiled, - And didn't seem to mind that he was treated like a child. - Though she didn't call him Emperor, or cling to him and cry, - Yet I rather think he liked it--just the same as you and I. - - - - -LOOKING AFT - - - - -LOOKING AFT. - - - I'm the donkey-man of a dingy tramp - They launched in 'Eighty-one, - Rickety, old, and leaky too--but some o' the rivets are shining new - Beneath our after-gun. - - An' she an' meself are off to sea - From out o' the breaker's hands, - An' we laugh to find such an altered game, for devil a thing we - found the same - When we came off the land. - - We used to carry a freight of trash - That younger ships would scorn, - But now we're running a decent trade--howitzer-shell and hand-grenade, - Or best Alberta corn. - - We used to sneak an' smouch along - Wi' rusty side an' rails, - Hoot an' bellow of liners proud--"Give us the room that we're allowed; - Get out o' the track--the Mails!" - - We sometimes met--an' took their wash-- - The 'aughty ships o' war, - An' we dips to them--an' they to us--an' on they went in a - tearin' fuss, - But now they count us more. - - For now we're "England's Hope and Pride"-- - The Mercantile Marine,-- - "Bring us the goods and food we lack, because we're hungry, - Merchant Jack" - (As often I have been). - - "You're the man to save us now, - We look to you to win; - Wot'd yer like? A rise o' pay? We'll give whatever you like to say, - But bring the cargoes in." - - An' here we are in the danger zone, - Wi' escorts all around, - Destroyers a-racing to and fro--"We will show you the way to go, - An' guide you safe an' sound." - - "An' did you cross in a comfy way, - Or did you have to run? - An' is the patch on your hull we see the mark of a bump - in 'Ninety-three, - Or the work of a German gun?" - - "We'll lead you now, and keep beside, - An' call to all the Fleet, - Clear the road and sweep us in--he carries a freight we need to win, - A golden load of wheat." - - Yes, we're the hope of England now, - And rank wi' the Navy too; - An' all the papers speak us fair--"Nothing he will not lightly dare, - Nothing he fears to do." - - "Be polite to Merchant Jack, - Who brings you in the meat, - For if he went on a striking lay, you'd have to go on your - knees and pray, - With never a bone to eat." - - But you can lay your papers down - An' set your fears aside, - For we will keep the ocean free--we o' the clean an' open sea-- - To break the German pride. - - We won't go canny or strike for pay, - Or say we need a rest; - But you get on wi' the blinkin' War--an' not so much o' your - strikes ashore, - Or givin' the German best. - - - - -A MAXIM - - - - -A MAXIM. - - - When the foe is pressing and the shells come down - In a stream like maxim fire, - When the long grey ranks seem to thicken all the while, - And they stamp on the last of the wire, - When all along the line comes a whisper on the wind - That you hear through the drumming of the guns: - "They are through over there and the right is in the air, - And there isn't any end to the Huns,"-- - Then keep along a-shooting till you can't shoot more, - And hit 'em with a shovel on the head. - Don't forget a lot of folk have beaten them before, - And a Hun'll never hurt you if he's dead. - If you're in a hole and your hopes begin to fail, - If you're in a losing fight, - Think a bit of Jonah in the belly of the whale, - _'Cause-he-got-out-all-right_. - - - - -THE CRISIS - - - - -THE CRISIS. - - - When the Spartan heroes tried - To hold the broken gate, - When--roaring like the rising tide-- - The Persian horsemen charged and died - In foaming waves of hate. - - When with armour hacked and torn - They gripped their shields of brass, - And hailed the gods that light the morn - With battle-cry of hope forlorn, - "We shall not let them pass." - - While they combed their hair for death - Before the Persian line, - They spoke awhile with easy breath, - "What think ye the Athenian saith - In Athens as they dine?" - - "Doth he repent that we alone - Are here to hold the way, - That he must reap what he hath sown-- - That only valour may atone - The fault of yesterday? - - "Is he content that thou and I-- - Three hundred men in line-- - Should show him thus how man may try - To stay the foemen passing by - To Athens, where they dine? - - "Ah! now the clashing cymbal rings, - The mighty host is nigh; - Let Athens talk of passing things-- - But here, three hundred Spartan kings - Shall greet the fame the Persian brings - To men about to die." - - - - -A SEA CHANTY - - - - -A SEA CHANTY. - - - There's a whistle of the wind in the rigging overhead, - And the tune is as plain as can be. - "Hey! down below there--d'you know it's going to blow there, - All across the cold North Sea?" - - And along comes the gale from the locker in the North - By the Storm-King's hand set free, - And the wind and the snow and the sleet come forth, - Let loose to the cold North Sea. - - Tumble out the oilskins, the seas are running white, - There's a wet watch due for me, - For we're heading to the east, and a long wet night - As we drive at the cold North Sea. - - See the water foaming as the waves go by - Like the tide on the sands of Dee; - Hear the gale a-piping in the halliards high - To the tune of the cold North Sea. - - See how she's meeting them, plunging all the while, - Till I'm wet to the sea-boot knee; - See how she's beating them--twenty to the mile-- - The waves of the cold North Sea. - - Right across from Helgoland to meet the English coast, - Lie better than the likes of we,-- - Men that lived in many ways, but went to join the host - That are buried by the cold North Sea. - - Rig along the life-lines, double-stay the rails, - Lest the Storm-King call for a fee; - For if any man should slip, through the rolling of the ship, - He'd be lost in the cold North Sea. - - We are heading to the gale, and the driving of the sleet, - And we're far to the east of Three. - Hey! you German sailormen, here's the British Fleet - Waiting in the cold North Sea. - - - - -A.D. 400 - - - - -A.D. 400. - - - A long low ship from the Orkneys' sailed, - With a full gale driving her along, - Three score sailormen singing as they baled - To the tune of a Viking song-- - - _We have a luck-charm - Carved on the tiller, - Cut in the fore-room - See we Thor's Hammer; - Gods will protect us - Under a shield-burgh, - Carved in the mast we-- - The Runes of Yggdrasil!_ - - But the Earl called down from the kicking tiller-head, - "Six hands lay along to me! - Tumble out the hawsers there, Skallagrim the Red! - For a battle with a Berserk sea; - Sing a song of work, of a well-stayed mast, - Of clinch and rivet and pine, - Of a bull's-hide sail we can carry to the last - Of a well-built ship like mine. - Never mind the Runes on the bending tree - Or the charms on the tiller that I hold, - Trust to your hands and the Makers of the Sea, - To the gods of the Viking bold! - - _Thor of the Hammer-- - King of the Warriors, - We are not thralls here - --Men of the sea; - We are not idle, - Fight we as seamen, - Worthy your aid then - --Men of the Sea!"_ - - - - -OVERDUE - - - - -OVERDUE. - - - In the evening--in the sunset--when the long day dies, - Out across the broad Atlantic, where the great seas go, - When the Golden Gates are open and the sunlight flies, - The fairy Islands drift and fade against the crimson glow. - - In the evening, when the fiery sun was sinking in the West, - St Brandan and the chosen few went sailing out to sea,-- - To the Westward--to the sunset--to the Golden Isle of rest, - The haven of the weary men, the land of Fairie. - - Is it only in the sunset we may find the Golden Fleece? - Is it only to the Westward that the Fairyland is found? - And those who went away from us and passed from war to peace-- - Are they looking still for Fairyland the wide world round? - - Then as I gazed across the dark the morning answer came-- - To Eastward stretched the golden sea for many a golden mile; - The far horizon joined the sky in dancing lines of flame-- - And drifting on the seas of dawn, I saw St Brandan's Isle. - - - PRINTED BY WILLIAM BLACKWOOD AND SONS. - - - - - -End of Project Gutenberg's On Patrol, by John Graham Bower and Klaxon - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ON PATROL *** - -***** This file should be named 41944-8.txt or 41944-8.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/4/1/9/4/41944/ - -Produced by sp1nd, Mary Akers and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive) - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions -will be renamed. - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no -one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation -(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org - - -Title: On Patrol - -Author: John Graham Bower - Klaxon - -Release Date: January 29, 2013 [EBook #41944] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ON PATROL *** - - - - -Produced by sp1nd, Mary Akers and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive) - - - - - -</pre> - +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 41944 ***</div> <div class="transnote"> <p>Transcriber's note:<br /> @@ -948,9 +913,9 @@ Edinburgh and London<br /> <div class="line i2"> Wherever he comes aboard."</div> </div> <div class="stanza"> -<div class="line">The Admiral landed Cabré-wise</div> +<div class="line">The Admiral landed Cabré-wise</div> <div class="line i2"> And high the fountains burst—</div> -<div class="line">(What is the meaning of Cabré-wise? To men of the air it signifies—</div> +<div class="line">(What is the meaning of Cabré-wise? To men of the air it signifies—</div> <div class="line i2"> His after-end was first). <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">44</a></span></div> </div> @@ -1134,7 +1099,7 @@ Edinburgh and London<br /> <div class="line">When the cannon ceased abruptly and they heard the Germans cheer,</div> <div class="line">And a sergeant entered roaring, "Himmel, Ach! was Schmutz ist hier!</div> <div class="line">Mask your faces, pig-dogs, quickly—all the room is full of gas.</div> -<div class="line">Vorwärts, Carl der Kindermörder—use your bayonet, Saxon ass!"</div> +<div class="line">Vorwärts, Carl der Kindermörder—use your bayonet, Saxon ass!"</div> <div class="line">Faithful to the last, the Chairman, spying strangers all around,</div> <div class="line">Told them they were out of order; hardly seemed to touch the ground. <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">56</a></span></div> @@ -3058,379 +3023,6 @@ abruptly than he would dare to do without its assistance.</p> <p><a name="Footnote_6" id="Footnote_6" href="#FNanchor_6" class="label">[6]</a> O.O.D.—Officer of the day.</p> </div></div> - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of Project Gutenberg's On Patrol, by John Graham Bower and Klaxon - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ON PATROL *** - -***** This file should be named 41944-h.htm or 41944-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/4/1/9/4/41944/ - -Produced by sp1nd, Mary Akers and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive) - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions -will be renamed. - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no -one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation -(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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