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Rudyard Kipling (South African War)

There is a word you often see, pronounce it as you may -
'You bike,' 'you bikwe,' 'ubbikwe' - alludin' to R.A.
It serves 'Orse, Field, an' Garrison as motto for a crest,
An' when you've found out all it means I'll tell you 'alf the rest.

Ubique means the long-range Krupp be'ind the low-range 'ill -
Ubique means you'll pick it up an', while you do stand, still.
Ubique means you've caught the flash an' timed it by the sound.
Ubique means five gunners' 'ash before you've loosed a round.

Ubique means Blue Fuse1, an' make the 'ole to sink the trail. 1extreme range
Ubique means stand up an' take the Mauser's 'alf-mile 'ail.
Ubique means the crazy team not God nor man can 'old.
Ubique means that 'orse's scream which turns your innards cold.

Ubique means 'Bank, 'Olborn, Bank - a penny all the way -
The soothin' jingle-bump-an'-clank from day to peaceful day.
Ubique means 'They've caught De Wet, an' now we sha'n't be long.'
Ubique means 'I much regret, the beggar's going strong!'

Ubique means the tearin' drift where, breech-blocks jammed with mud,
The khaki muzzles duck an' lift across the khaki flood.
Ubique means the dancing plain that changes rocks to Boers.
Ubique means the mirage again an' shellin' all outdoors.

Ubique means 'Entrain at once for Grootdefeatfontein'!
Ubique means 'Off-load your guns' - at midnight in the rain!
Ubique means 'More mounted men. Return all guns to store.'
Ubique means the R.A.M.R. Infantillery Corps!

Ubique means the warnin' grunt the perished linesman knows,
When o'er 'is strung an' sufferin' front the shrapnel sprays 'is foes,
An' as their firin' dies away the 'usky whisper runs
From lips that 'aven't drunk all day: 'The Guns! Thank Gawd, the Guns!'

Extreme, depressed, point-blank or short, end-first or any'ow,
From Colesberg Kop to Quagga's Poort - from Ninety-Nine till now -
By what I've 'eard the others tell an' I in spots 'ave seen,
There's nothin' this side 'Eaven or 'Ell Ubique doesn't mean!

*Royal Artillery Mounted Rifles-when mounted infantry were badly needed



Can be sung to the tune of the Eaton Boating Song

Smoking my pipe on the mountings,
Sniffing the morning cool,
I walks in my old brown gaiters,
Along 'o my own brown mule;
With seventy odd Gunners behind me,
An' never a beggar forgets
That it's only the pick of the Army;
That handles the dear little pets ....

_CHORUS_ _ _ _ _ _

For you all loves the Screw Guns,
The Screw Guns they all loves you
So when we calls round with a few guns
Of cause you will know what to do - hoo
Just send in your Chief and surrender
'Tis worse if you fights or you runs,
You may go where you please;
You can skid up the trees
But you don't get away from the guns.

They sends us along where the roads are,
But mostly we goes where they 'aint,
We'd climb up the side of a sign board
An' trust to the stick 'o the paint;
We've chivied the Naga and Looshai,
We've given the Afreedeeman fits,
For we fancies ourself at two thousand,
We guns that are built in two bits

_CHORUS_ _ _ _ _ _

For you all loves the Screw Guns etc ...

If a man won't work, why we drills 'im
An' teaches 'im 'ow to behave,
If a beggar can't march why we kills him
And rattles 'im into his grave;
You've got to stand up to our business,
An' spring without snatching or fuss,
D'you say that you sweat with the field guns
By God you must lather with us.

_CHORUS_ _ _ _ _ _

For you all loves the Screw Guns etc ...

The eagles is screamin' around us
The river's a moanin' below
We're clear of the pine an' the oak scrub
We're out on the rocks an' the snow
And the wind is as thin as a whiplash
That carries away to the plains
The rattle and stamp of the lead mules
The jinklety-jink 'o the chains

_CHORUS_ _ _ _ _ _

For you all loves the Screw Guns etc ...

Theres a wheel on the Horns 'o the Morning,
An' a wheel on the edge of the pit,
An' a drop into nothing beneath you,
As straight as a beggar can spit,
Wi' the sweat runnin' out 'o your shirt sleeves
An' the sun off the snow in your face
An' 'alf 'o the men on the drag ropes
To hold the old gun in 'er place

_CHORUS_ _ _ _ _ _

For you all loves the Screw Guns etc ...

Smoking my pipe on the mountings
Sniffing the morning cool
I climbs in mi' old brown gaiters
Along 'o my old brown mule
The monkey can say what our road was,
The wild goat 'e knows where we passed,
Stand Easy, you long eared old Darlin's
Out drag ropes, wi' shrapnel - Hold fast

For you all loves the Screw Guns
The Screw Guns they all love you
So when we takes tea with a few guns
Of cause you will know what to do - hoo
Just send in your Chief and surrender
'Tis worse if you fights or you runs,
You may hide in your caves
They'll be only your graves
For you CAN'T get away from the GUNS.



Gunga Din

You may talk of gin and beer
When you're quartered safe out 'ere
An' you're sent to penny fights and Aldershot it
But when it comes to slaughter
You'll do your work on water
An' you'll lick the bloomin' boots of 'im thats got it
Now in Indias' sunny clime
Where I used to spend my time
A servin' of Her Majesty the Queen
Of all them blackfaced crew
The finest man I knew
Was our Regimental bhisti* Gunga Din *[Water Carrier]

The uniform 'e wore
Were nothing much before
An' rather less than 'alf 'o that behind
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 the siding through the day
An' the 'eat would make your bloomin' eyeballs crawl

Wi the bullets kicking dust spots on the green
You squidgy nosed old idol Gunga Din

With 'is mussik on 'is back 'e would skip with our attack
'Ee'd be standing fifty paces right flank rear

When the cartridges ran out
You could hear the front ranks shout
Hi ammunition mules - and Gunga Din

It was Din Din Din
Here's a beggar wi' a bullet through 'is spleen
'E's kickin' all around an' chawin' up the ground
For Gawds sake get the water Gunga Din

I sha'nt forgit the night
When I dropped behind the fight
Wi' a bullet where mi' belt plate should ha' been

'E lifted up me head
An' plugged me where I bled
An gave me 'alf a pint of water green
It was crawlin' and it stunk
But of all the drinks I've drunk
I'me gratefullest to the one from Gunga din

An' a bullet came and drilled the beggar clean

An' just before 'e died

I 'oped you liked your drink says Gunga Din
'E'll be squatting on the coals
Giving drinks to poor damned souls
'An I'll get a drink in hell from Gunga Din

Though I've belted you and flayed you
By the living God that made you
You're a better man than I am Gunga Din