I wake too early Barrack room fug Sweat and nicotine Home to the universal soldier ~ A special time This pre-dawn solitude Engaging the mind In wandering reflection ~ Jericho, our home But no ‘City of Palms’ Spider legged watchtowers Garlanded with razor wire ~ A concentration camp Where the guards are the prisoners Paroled to patrol the mean streets The tethered dogs of war ~ I play the part well All bases are manned But too thin This mask of indifference ~ The Falls and the Shanklin Overdue for the gathering of the clans But don’t arrive in your party dress And the cocktail’s are not for drinking ~ Dawn, doors slamming I’m rooftop watching today Maybe a masked hero Has learnt to shoot straight ~ As I pull on the combat boots Reach for the flack jacket Kipling’s dedication to all fighting men Rings in my ears ~ 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.
Ah, I was introduced to Kipling last semester in my History of the Great War class. I think you did a phenominal job of entering the mind of a soldier int he barracks, and then writing an intense poem from his perspective. The line that Arthur quoted was my favorite as well. Smart and creative write, almost felt like a ballad.
Chairs thrown and tables toppled Hands armed with broken bottles Standing no chance to win, but We're not running, we're not running