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In honor of Memorial Day Weekend:
Tommy
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 behind 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 troopships'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 'im 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!
-Rudyard Kipling
The attitudes towards military personnel have gotten a lot better since Kipling's time, as have the living conditions, pay, schooling, etc available for them. Almost everybody at least pays lip service to respecting them and their sacrifices.
The thing is, though, that Americans who say today that they are against the war in Iraq but not against the soldiers serving there, are actually giving a grave disrespect to the soldiers they claim to be respecting. This isn't Viet Nam. There is no draft. And given the number of years that have passed since 9/11, all the soldiers now serving have either enlisted or re-enlisted since the invasions of Afghanistan and Iraq. That is, they chose, for whatever reason, to serve in time of war, knowing what that might entail. So saying that you're against the war, and want to bring them home for their own good is not respecting them. It is denying them the right to make their own choices, and treating them like children. I'm not saying that wanting to get us out of Iraq is necessarily unpatriotic. But using concern for our soldiers as the excuse is at best hypocritical and patronising.
Quote of the Day:
Sometimes it’s better to light a flamethrower than curse the darkness.
-Terry Pratchett, Men At Arms
Tommy
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 behind 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 troopships'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 'im 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!
-Rudyard Kipling
The attitudes towards military personnel have gotten a lot better since Kipling's time, as have the living conditions, pay, schooling, etc available for them. Almost everybody at least pays lip service to respecting them and their sacrifices.
The thing is, though, that Americans who say today that they are against the war in Iraq but not against the soldiers serving there, are actually giving a grave disrespect to the soldiers they claim to be respecting. This isn't Viet Nam. There is no draft. And given the number of years that have passed since 9/11, all the soldiers now serving have either enlisted or re-enlisted since the invasions of Afghanistan and Iraq. That is, they chose, for whatever reason, to serve in time of war, knowing what that might entail. So saying that you're against the war, and want to bring them home for their own good is not respecting them. It is denying them the right to make their own choices, and treating them like children. I'm not saying that wanting to get us out of Iraq is necessarily unpatriotic. But using concern for our soldiers as the excuse is at best hypocritical and patronising.
Quote of the Day:
Sometimes it’s better to light a flamethrower than curse the darkness.
-Terry Pratchett, Men At Arms
