Dakota Beacon

Here are a few lines saluting veterans on Veterans Day. They are taken from Rudyard Kipling and Alfred Lord Tennyson. Hearts of veterans everywhere will recognize the impressions, nostalgia, and emotions unique to the bonds of camaraderie of fellow service members. Enjoy.

Kipling’s “Fuzzy-Wuzzy” tells of a vicious foe yet highly respected although ultimately defeated.

He rushes at the smoke when we let drive,

And, before we know, he’s hacking at our head;

He’s all hot sand and ginger when alive,

And he’s generally shamming when he’s dead.

He’s a daisy, he’s a ducky, he’s a lamb!

He’s a injia-rubber idiot on the spree,

He’s the only thing that doesn’t care a damn

For the Regiment of British Infantry.

So here’s to you, Fuzzy-Wuzzy, at your home in the Sudan;

You’re a pore benighted heathen but a first-class fighting man;

And here’s to you, Fuzzy-Wuzzy, with your hayrick head of hair—

You big black bounding beggar – for you broke the British square.

Kipling’s “Mandalay” speaks of servicemen deployed on overseas tours.

Ship me somewheres east of Suez where the best is like the worst,

Where there aren’t no Ten Commandments, and a man can raise a thirst:

For the temple-bells are calling, and it’s there that I would be –

By the old Moulmein Pagoda, looking lazy at the sea --

On the road to Mandalay,

Where the old Flotilla lay,

With our sick beneath the awnings when we went to Mandalay!

Oh, the road to Mandalay,

Where the flying-fishes play,

And the dawn comes up like thunder out of China ‘cross the Bay!

Life in the military at times may be dark and brutal. A tough code of discipline deals with crime and punishment. “Danny Deever,” accused of murdering a fellow trooper as he slept, meets his fate.

“What makes the rear-rank breathe so hard?” said Files-on-Parade.

“It’s bitter cold, it’s bitter cold,” the Color-Sergeant said.

“What makes that front-rank man fall down?” says Files-on-Parade.

“A touch of sun, a touch of sun,” The Color-Sergeant said.

They are hanging Danny Deever, they are marching him around.

They have halted Danny Deever by his coffin on the ground:

And he’ll swing in half a minute for a sneaking shooting hound –

O they’re hanging Danny Deever in the morning!

“What’s that so black agin the sun?” said Files-on-Parade.

“It’s Danny fighting hard for life,” the Color-Sergeant said.

“What’s that that whimpers over head?” said Files-on-Parade.

“It’s Danny’s soul that’s passing now,” the Color-Sergeant said.

For they’re done with Danny Deever, you can hear the quickstep play,

The regiment’s in column, and they’re marching us away;

Ho! The young recruits are shaking, and they’ll want their beer today,

After hanging Danny Deever in the morning.

Alfred Lord Tennyson illustrates honor and heroism in defeat as an individual ship, “Revenge,” fought alone against fifty-three Spanish galleons in the Azores. Of course, it lost.

We have won great glory, my men!

And a day less or more

At sea or ashore,

We die – does it matter when?

Sink me the ship, Master Gunner – sink her, split her in twain!

Fall into the hands of God, not into the hands of Spain!

Finally, Kipling’s “Recessional” captures the regard for God an old trooper would understand.

Far-called, our navies melt away;

On dune and headland sinks the fire;

Lo, all our pomp of yesterday

Is one with Nineveh and Tyre!

Judge of the Nations, spare us yet,

Lest we forget – lest we forget!

Kipling’s and Tennyson’s selections should be read in their entirety. The Passing Scene published these lines years ago. Yet again they may touch the heart and soul of those who served.

Dennis M. Patrick can be contacted at (JavaScript must be enabled to view this email address).