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They thought that when Zeus triumphed over the Titans. However, the old white men are still here, and certainly still will be long after you've shuffled off.
I was interested to see that the British Army and The Royal Navy both used gatling guns in the late 1870s and 1880s, presumably before Sir Hiram Maxim had perfected something a little easier to use.
So the mention of "the Gatling's jammed" is correct.
WE ’VE fought with many men acrost the seas,
An’ some of ’em was brave an’ some was not,
The Paythan an’ the Zulu an’ Burmese;
But the Fuzzy was the finest o’ the lot.
We never got a ha’porth’s change of ’im: 5
’E squatted in the scrub an’ ’ocked our ’orses,
’E cut our sentries up at Suakim,
An’ ’e played the cat an’ banjo with our forces.
So ’ere ’s to you, Fuzzy-Wuzzy, at your ’ome in the Soudan;
You ’re a pore benighted ’eathen but a first-class fightin’ man; 10
We gives you your certificate, an’ if you want it signed
We ’ll come an’ ’ave a romp with you whenever you ’re inclined.
We took our chanst among the Kyber ’ills,
The Boers knocked us silly at a mile,
The Burman give us Irriwaddy chills, 15
An’ a Zulu impi dished us up in style:
But all we ever got from such as they
Was pop to what the Fuzzy made us swaller;
We ’eld our bloomin’ own, the papers say,
But man for man the Fuzzy knocked us ’oller. 20
Then ’ere ’s to you, Fuzzy-Wuzzy, an’ the missis and the kid;
Our orders was to break you, an’ of course we went an’ did.
We sloshed you with Martinis, an’ it was n’t ’ardly fair;
But for all the odds agin’ you, Fuzzy-Wuz, you broke the square.
’E ’as n’t got no papers of ’is own, 25
’E ’as n’t got no medals nor rewards,
So we must certify the skill ’e ’s shown
In usin’ of ’is long two-’anded swords:
When ’e ’s ’oppin’ in an’ out among the bush
With ’is coffin-’eaded shield an’ shovel-spear, 30
An ’appy day with Fuzzy on the rush
Will last an ’ealthy Tommy for a year.
So ’ere ’s to you, Fuzzy-Wuzzy, an’ your friends which are no more,
If we ’ad n’t lost some messmates we would ’elp you to deplore;
But give an’ take ’s the gospel, an’ we ’ll call the bargain fair, 35
For if you ’ave lost more than us, you crumpled up the square!
’E rushes at the smoke when we let drive,
An’, before we know, ’e ’s ’ackin’ at our ’ead;
’E ’s all ’ot sand an’ ginger when alive,
An’ ’e ’s generally shammin’ when ’e ’s dead. 40
’E ’s a daisy, ’e ’s a ducky, ’e ’s a lamb!
’E ’s a injia-rubber idiot on the spree,
’E ’s the on’y thing that does n’t give a damn
For a Regiment o’ British Infantree!
So ’ere ’s to you, Fuzzy-Wuzzy, at your ’ome in the Soudan; 45
You ’re a pore benighted ’eathen but a first-class fightin’ man;
An’ ’ere ’s to you, Fuzzy-Wuzzy, with your ’ayrick ’ead of ’air—
You big black boundin’ beggar—for you broke a British square!
And that was when they had spears & such like, rather than AK47s and rocket launchers.
Vitai Lampada
THERE'S a breathless hush in the Close to-night -
Ten to make and the match to win -
A bumping pitch and a blinding light,
An hour to play and the last man in.
And it's not for the sake of a ribboned coat,
Or the selfish hope of a season's fame,
But his Captain's hand on his shoulder smote
"Play up! play up! and play the game!"
The sand of the desert is sodden red, -
Red with the wreck of a square that broke; -
The Gatling's jammed and the colonel dead,
And the regiment blind with dust and smoke.
The river of death has brimmed his banks,
And England's far, and Honour a name,
But the voice of schoolboy rallies the ranks,
"Play up! play up! and play the game!"
This is the word that year by year
While in her place the School is set
Every one of her sons must hear,
And none that hears it dare forget.
This they all with a joyful mind
Bear through life like a torch in flame,
And falling fling to the host behind -
"Play up! play up! and play the game!"
augescunt aliae gentes, aliae minuuntur,
inque brevi spatio mutantur saecla animantum
et quasi cursores vitai lampada tradunt.
In Leonard's translation:
The nations wax, the nations wane away;
In a brief space the generations pass,
And like to runners hand the lamp of life
One unto other.
Well we ain't exactly waxing anymore, now are we?
Originally posted by Ecclesiastes 1:4
One generation passeth away, and another generation cometh: but the earth abideth for ever.
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