doublegunshop.com - home Forums General Discussion DoubleGun BBS @ doublegunshop.com OT: Gunga Din

The late Limey poet/author/statesman? Rudyard Kipling was no stranger to the need for the British "stiffie-upper-- lip wise", as his only son, a First Leftenant in the Coldstream Guards, was one of the 60K Brit casualties at the 1916 Battle at the river Somme- where Brit General Haig apparently thought that if he kept hurdling his troops into the heavy German MG fire, eventually what was left of his manpower would overwhelm the dug-in Kraut positions after they either (1) Ran out of ammo for their 8mm Maxim MG's- or (2) the barrels of same overheated--

He had written the epic poem "Gunga Din", about a WOG water boy in India, some years prior to this- after the tragic death of his son (and thousands of his sons' brothers-in-arms) he became a recluse--

Two of his best poems or pieces of writing, IMO- as a confirmed lover of the dog, and a die-hard chauvinist, deal with dogs "The Power of the Dog" and what happens to a man's heart when he gives it freely to God's best four-legged piece of work, and also the line from "The Wedding" in which he so astutely says- "A thousand women like Maggie, are willing to bear the yoke- But- a woman is only a woman, but a good cigar is a smoke"-- That was written in the aprox same era when Vienna's Number One Boy- Ziggy Freud was also discussing "cigars"--and Mark Twain was trying to give up smokin' them, for the thousandth time- Ah yes, the good olde days indeed-

IMO, and judged with the 20-20 hindsight through History's dark glass, had Britain had a man like Kipling for PM instead of that "Henry Tremblechinned" Neville Chamberlain in 1938, he would have told Adolph Hitler to "upstick it, arse-wise" when Der Feuhrer demanded his "elbow room" in the German speaking part of Chezkoslovakia--

I had also read that our beloved and now deceased gun guru Mike McIntosh could recite both "Gunga Din" and "The Crematyion of Sam McGee" darn near letter perfect, even after a test tasting evening involving some single malts!!

That Poem, and all of Kipling, for that matter brings back memories...MY Grandpa Ferguson was a Brigadier, Canadian army (Retd) and also a stampeder...Fond memories of time spent on the porch with him....Miss him and my Dad both...

RWTF, Irish Guards, not Coldstream. Battle of Loos, not Somme.
1915 not 1916. I am sure the rest of your drivel is up to your usual standard of accuracy.

To add to Run With The Fox try Kipling's 'Tommy' and also 'Fuzzy-Wuzzy'. Both great works. The Cremation of Sam McGee by Robert Service; another English poet, even though he was called The Bard of the Yukon, was from Preston in Lancashire, try looking up some of his war poems about the First world War; powerful stuff. Lagopus.....

OK Dude- you are right and I am wrong- Irish Guards, that's a shock- I know Rudyard had to pull some strings to get his son Jack into the Army and into OCS- or whatever the Limeys called their Officer Training School- Sandhurst?? he was a blind as a bat, 20-200 or even worse vision, and could barely read a medical eye chart even with glasses. Why they let him into a combat situation is beyond my understanding- he should have been rear echelon- his poor vision may well have cost him his life, as well as that of many enlisted men- But at least you didn't disagree with me about the "Butcher's Bill" Limey Gen. Haig racked up at the Somme in 1916--Makes me think of my favorite dead American writer- Ernest Hemingway-- his Grandfather was a decorated Union Officer in our War of Northern Aggression- his father was a pacifist, Hemingway couldn't pass the Army physical due to defective eyesight in his right eye, and he lied about his age (he was born on July 21 1899, he moved that back to 1898- and got the American Red Cross to accept him as an ambulance driver in Italy--

I understand that Rudyard pulled a lot of strings to get his son in the Army and through the medical and then spent the rest of his life with the guilt. The First World War was seen as a great adventure and many slipped the net. My own Grandfather lied about his age to get there and was there for a while before he got rumbled and sent back home. Things didn't improve by the next war either. I was reading of one lad that joined the RAF and at 15 had flown four bombing missions as a pilot before he got rumbled.

Incidently, I drive past Rudyard lake in Staffordshire quite often. Rudyard's parents used to visit the place regularly hence his name. The neighbouring lake is Tittesworth. Somehow I am pleased that they prefered Rudyard. Lagopus.....

Vernon Alvin Roberts, born August 4th, 1923.

Passed into The Bosom of God today, September 23rd, 2013, The Year of Our Lord.

Godspeed Daddy, I loved you so much.
JR

Your family will be in our prayers. God Bless.

This poem has a great deal to say on the subject of parting with a loved one but in so very few words.

Now that I am dead cry for me a little,
Think of me sometimes.
But not too much!
Remember me now and again as I was in life,
at some moment when it is pleasant to recall, but not for long!
Leave me in peace, and I shall leave you in peace.
And while you live let your thoughts be with the living.

John,

It is a curious and wonderful thing how the memories hurt so badly to recall when pains of loss are fresh, but become so precious as time passes. Certainly Our Father made it to be so.

Wish I could be there with you, but know that my prayers are requesting that His Spirit be there in power. He is a much better Comforter than I.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JUiqncJE_dI

All my best, Stan