Poetry Lovers’ Page - Rudyard Kipling : Screw-Guns
▻https://www.poetryloverspage.com/poets/kipling/screw_guns.html
Un poème militaire de Rudyard Kipling et sa caricature par Bert Brecht et Kurt Weill
The Screw Gun
▻http://oldbritishguns.com/the-screw-gun
The Screw Gun was the brainchild of Colonel Cecil Brook le Mesurier of the Royal Artillery in 1877. His proposal was to break the gun down into parts to be carried by pack mules. The maximum practical load at the time for a mule was 200 pounds, so the 400 pound barrel was divided into two parts, to be screwed back together for action. It took at least 5 mules for the barrel, carriage and associated bits, then more mules for ammunition and powder.
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The gun was used all over Afghanistan and India, and was even present in the Sudan at the Battle of Abu Klea, during the relief of Khartoum. It was also well used in Africa by the West African Frontier Force and the King’s African Rifles.
RML 2.5 inch Mountain Gun
▻https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/RML_2.5_inch_Mountain_Gun
▻https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UqJmBfgXRUQ
Smokin’ my pipe on the mountings, sniffin’ the mornin’ cool,
I walks in my old brown gaiters along o’ my old brown mule,
With seventy gunners be’ind me, an’ never a beggar forgets
It’s only the pick of the Army that handles the dear little pets — ’Tss! ’Tss!
For you all love the screw-guns — the screw-guns they all love you!
So when we call round with a few guns, o’ course you will know what to do — hoo! hoo!
Jest send in your Chief an’ surrender — it’s worse if you fights or you runs:
You can 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 ain’t:
We’d climb up the side of a sign-board an’ trust to the stick o’ the paint:
We’ve chivied the Naga an’ Looshai, we’ve give the Afreedeeman fits,
For we fancies ourselves at two thousand, we guns that are built in two bits — ’Tss! ’Tss!
For you all love the screw-guns . . .
If a man doesn’t work, why, we drills ’im an’ teaches ’im ’ow to behave;
If a beggar can’t march, why, we kills ’im an’ rattles ’im into ’is grave.
You’ve got to stand up to our business an’ spring without snatchin’ or fuss.
D’you say that you sweat with the field-guns? By God, you must lather with us — ’Tss! ’Tss!
For you all love the screw-guns . . .
The eagles is screamin’ around us, the river’s a-moanin’ below,
We’re clear o’ the pine an’ the oak-scrub, we’re out on the rocks an’ the snow,
An’ the wind is as thin as a whip-lash what carries away to the plains
The rattle an’ stamp o’ the lead-mules — the jinglety-jink o’ the chains — ’Tss! ’Tss!
For you all love the screw-guns . . .
There’s a wheel on the Horns o’ the Mornin’, an’ a wheel on the edge o’ the Pit,
An’ a drop into nothin’ beneath you as straight as a beggar can spit:
With the sweat runnin’ out o’ your shirt-sleeves, an’ the sun off the snow in your face,
An’ ’arf o’ the men on the drag-ropes to hold the old gun in ’er place — ’Tss! ’Tss!
For you all love the screw-guns . . .
Smokin’ my pipe on the mountings, sniffin’ the mornin’ cool,
I climbs in my 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! With shrapnel! Hold fast — ’Tss! ’Tss!
For you all love the screw-guns — the screw-guns they all love you!
So when we take tea with a few guns, o’ course you will know what to do — hoo! hoo!
Jest send in your Chief an’ surrender — it’s worse if you fights or you runs:
You may hide in the caves, they’ll be only your graves, but you can’t get away from the guns!
A propos du texte et de la musique de Screw Guns
▻http://www.kiplingsociety.co.uk/rg_screwguns1.htm
Der Kanonen Song
▻https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7bEKU70_7E8
John war darunter und Jim war dabei
Und Georgie ist Sergeant geworden
Doch die Armee, sie fragt keinen, wer er sei
Und sie marschierte hinauf nach dem Norden.
Soldaten wohnen
Auf den Kanonen
Vom Cap bis Couch Behar.
Wenn es mal regnete
Und es begegnete
Ihnen ’ne neue Rasse’ne braune oder blasse
Da machen sie vielleicht daraus ihr Beefsteak Tartar
Johnny war der Whisky zu warm
Und Jimmy hatte nie genug Decken
Aber Georgie nahm beide beim Arm
Und sagte „Die Armee kann nicht verrecken“.
Soldaten wohnen
Auf den Kanonen
Vom Cap bis Couch Behar.
Wenn es mal regnete
Und es begegnete
Ihnen ’ne neue Rasse’ne braune oder blasse
Da machen sie vielleicht daraus ihr Beefsteak Tartar
John ist gestorben und Jim ist tot
Und Georgie ist verißt und verdorben
Aber Blut ist immer noch rot
Und für die Armee wird jetzt wieder geworben!
Soldaten wohnen
Auf den KanonenVom Cap bis Couch Behar.
Wenn es mal regneteUnd es begegnete
Ihnen ’ne neue Rasse’ne braune oder blasse
Da machen sie vielleicht daraus ihr Beefsteak Tartar
L’esprit militaire
▻https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Non-commissioned_officer#United_Kingdom
Sergeant Jamie Shannon of the 105 Regiment Royal Artillery stands in the Middle Ward, Edinburgh Castle. As District Gunner, he has just supervised the firing of the One O’Clock gun, which points east over the Mills Mount Battery wall. The rest of the gunners are formed up behind the gun, to the right.
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