The Good Earth North Vancouver 1970
The Good Earth North Vancouver 1970
1010 Cook Street Victoria 1978
GUNGA DIN
You may
talk o' gin and beer
When you're quartered safe out 'ere,
An'
you're sent to penny-fights an' Aldershot it;
But when it comes to
slaughter
You will do your work on water,
An' you'll lick the
bloomin' boots of 'im that's got it.
Now in Injia's sunny
clime,
Where I used to spend my time
A-servin' of 'Er Majesty
the Queen,
Of all them black-faced crew
The finest man I
knew
Was our regimental bhisti, Gunga Din.
He was "Din!
Din! Din!
You limping lump o' brick-dust, Gunga Din!
Hi!
slippery hitherao!
Water, get it! Panee lao![1]
You
squigy-nosed old idol, Gunga Din."
The
uniform 'e wore
Was nothin' much before,
An' rather less than
'arf o' that be'ind,
For a piece o' twisty rag
An' a goatskin
water-bag
Was all the field-equipment e' could find.
When the
sweatin' troop-train lay
In a sidin' through the day,
Where the
'eat would make your bloomin' eyebrows crawl,
We shouted "Harry
By!"[2]
Till
our throats were bricky-dry,
Then we wopped 'im 'cause 'e couldn't
serve us all.
It was "Din! Din! Din!
You 'eathen,
where the mischief 'ave you been?
You put some juldee[3] in
it
Or I'll marrow[4] you
this minute
If you don't fill up my helmet, Gunga Din!
'E
would dot an' carry one
Till the longest day was done
An'
'e didn't seem to know the use o' fear.
If we charged or broke
or cut,
You could bet your bloomin' nut,
'E'd be waitin'
fifty paces right flank rear.
With 'is mussick[5] on
'is back,
'E would skip with our attack,
An' watch us
till the bugles made "Retire,"
An' for all 'is dirty
'ide
'E was white, clear white, inside
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-files 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,
An' the man that spied me first
Was our good
old grinnin', gruntin' Gunga Din.
'E lifted up my 'ead,
An'
he plugged me where I bled,
An' 'e guv me 'arf-a-pint o'
water-green:
It was crawlin' and it stunk,
But of all the
drinks I've drunk,
I'm gratefullest to one from Gunga Din.
It
was "Din! Din! Din!"
'Ere's a beggar with a bullet
through 'is spleen;
'E's chawin' up the ground,
An' 'e's
kickin' all around:
For Gawd's sake git the water, Gunga Din!
'E
carried me away
To where a dooli lay,
An' a bullet come
an' drilled the beggar clean.
'E put me safe inside,
An'
just before 'e died:
"I 'ope you liked your drink,"
sez Gunga Din.
So I'll meet 'im later on
At the place
where 'e is gone—
Where it's always double drill and no
canteen;
'E'll be squattin' on the coals,
Givin' drink to
poor damned souls,
An' I'll get a swig in hell from Gunga
Din!
Yes, Din! Din! Din!
You Lazarushian-leather Gunga
Din!
Though I've belted you and flayed you,
By the living
Gawd that made you,
You're a better man than I am, Gunga Din!
- ↑ Bring water swiftly.
- ↑ Mr. Atkins' equivalent for "O brother."
- ↑ Be quick.
- ↑ Hit you.
- ↑ Water skins.