Quote:
Originally posted by Gunner
Derek:
Adding dignity to what would otherwise be a vulgar brawl, I will not dignify your dig at the guns with a reply, except:
Ubique means that warnin' grunt, the perished linesman knows when o'er 'is strung and sufferin' front,
the shrapnel sprays 'is foes, an' as the firin' dies away,
th' 'uskey whisper runs, from lips that 'aven't drunk all day,
"th' Guns, thank God, th' Guns!" (R.K.)
 Mike
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The only brawl will be if someone insults a Gunner within my ear shot! I'm just finishing up reading Hubert Meyer's detailed and fascinating book; The 12TH SS The history of the Hitler Youth Panzer Division. Time and time again artillery was the trump card that allowed a successful attack or derailed a German counter-attack in Normandy. There are many journal entries, both personal and official that identify the artillery barrage as swinging the outcome of the battle.
However, since we're posting poetry, perhaps now is a good time to re-introduce our fellowship to one of my favourite works:
SALUTE TO THE ENGINEERS
Now the Lord of the Realms has glorified the Charge of the Light Brigade,
And the thin red line of infantry, when will it’s glory fade?
There are robust rhymes of the British Tars and classic Musketeers,
But I shall sing till your eardrums ring of the muddy old Engineers.
Now it’s all very well to fly through the air, or humour a heavy gun,
Or ride in tanks through the ranks of the broken and shattered Hun.
And it’s nice to think when a U-boat sinks, of the glory that outlives years,
But whoever heard of a vaunting work for the muddy old Engineers?
Now you must not feel as you read this rhyme that a Sapper’s a jealous knave,
That he joined the ranks for a vote of thanks or in search of a hero’s grave.
No, your mechanized is all right and your Tommy has darned few peers,
But where in Hell would the lot of them be if it weren’t for the Engineers?
Oh they look like tramps but they build your camps and sometimes lead the advance.
And they sweat red blood to bridge the flood, to give you a fighting chance.
But who stays behind when it gets too hot, to blow up the roads in the rear?
Just tell your wife that you owe your life to the muddy old Engineers!
No fancy crest is pinned on his chest; if you read what his hat badge says,
Why “Honi Soit Qui Mal Y Pense”, is a queersome sort of phrase.
But their modest claim to immortal fame has probably reached your ears,
The first to arrive, and the last to leave, are the Glorious Engineers
CHIMO!