I
always had a bit of trouble picturing Big Dope as a man of distinguished courage or
ability, admired for his brave deeds and noble qualities. (Editor’s note: he
means “hero”), even though he served his country during wartime, and in a war
zone. The stories I heard from him never suggested heroism, just a willingness
to serve rather than denounce his country or be classified as a coward.
Now I
understand. After reading more of your history, particularly that of the Vietnam
War era, I see that as long as your country can produce young folks of such
breathtaking and sublime greatness that they are willing to serve without complaint in an
unpopular, immoral, and illegal war—despite being stereotyped by a thankless populace
as sociopathic misfits and losers—your country will be safe.
I have
traveled the galaxy but have never encountered such patriotism. They truly represent
your, “Greatest Generation.”
So, in
honor of your day of independence, I offer this tribute to them.
Tommy
by Rudyard
Kipling
I went into a public-'ouse to get a pint o' beer,
The publican 'e up an' sez, "We serve no
red-coats here."
The girls be'ind the bar they laughed an' giggled
fit to die,I outs into the street again an' to myself sez I:
O it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Tommy, go away";
But it's "Thank you, Mister Atkins", when the band begins to play,
The band begins to play, my boys, the band begins to play,
O it's "Thank you, Mister Atkins", when the band begins to play.
I went into a theatre as sober as could be,
They gave a drunk civilian room, but 'adn't none for me;
They sent me to the gallery or round the music-'alls,
But when it comes to fightin', Lord! they'll shove me in the stalls!
For it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Tommy, wait outside";
But it's "Special train for Atkins" when the trooper's on the tide,
The troopship's on the tide, my boys, the troopship's on the tide,
O it's "Special train for Atkins" when the trooper's on the tide.
Yes, makin' mock o' uniforms that guard you while
you sleep
Is cheaper than them uniforms, an' they're
starvation cheap;An' hustlin' drunken soldiers when they're goin' large a bit
Is five times better business than paradin' in full kit.
Then it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Tommy, 'ow's yer soul?"
But it's "Thin red line of 'eroes" when the drums begin to roll,
The drums begin to roll, my boys, the drums begin to roll,
O it's "Thin red line of 'eroes" when the drums begin to roll.
We aren't no thin red 'eroes, nor we aren't no
blackguards too,
But single men in barricks, most remarkable like
you;An' if sometimes our conduck isn't all your fancy paints,
Why, single men in barricks don't grow into plaster saints;
While it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Tommy, fall be'ind",
But it's "Please to walk in front, sir", when there's trouble in the wind,
There's trouble in the wind, my boys, there's trouble in the wind,
O it's "Please to walk in front, sir", when there's trouble in the wind.
You talk o' better food for us, an' schools, an'
fires, an' all:
We'll wait for extry rations if you treat us
rational.Don't mess about the cook-room slops, but prove it to our face
The Widow's Uniform is not the soldier-man's disgrace.
For it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Chuck him out, the brute!"
But it's "Saviour of 'is country" when the guns begin to shoot;
An' it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' anything you please;
An' Tommy ain't a bloomin' fool -- you bet that Tommy sees!
Have you hugged a veteran today? |
Your
friend,
C.W.
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