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    Barrack Room Ballads
    Barrack Room Ballads
    Barrack Room Ballads
    Ebook130 pages1 hour

    Barrack Room Ballads

    By Rudyard Kipling

    3.5/5

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    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherArchive Classics
    Release dateNov 25, 1993
    Barrack Room Ballads
    Author

    Rudyard Kipling

    Rudyard Kipling war der große Chronist Indiens zur Zeit des britischen Empires. Kein Zweiter beschrieb in seinen Romanen, Reportagen und Kurzgeschichten die Fremde des Subkontinents lebendiger und spannender. Joseph Rudyard Kipling (Geb. 30. Dezember 1865 in Bombay; Gest. 18. Januar 1936 in London) war ein britischer Schriftsteller und Dichter. Zu seinen bekanntesten Werken zählen "Das Dschungelbuch" und der Spionage-Roman "Kim". Kipling gilt als wichtiger Vertreter des Kurzgeschichten-Genres und als hervorragender Erzähler. 1907 erhielt er als damals jüngster und erster englischsprachiger Schriftsteller den Literaturnobelpreis, den Rekord als jüngster Literaturnobelpreisträger hält er bis heute. Verschiedene andere Ehrungen und eine Erhebung in den Adelsstand lehnte er ab.

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    Reviews for Barrack Room Ballads

    3.5/5

    27 ratings4 reviews

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    • 3/5
      "Making mock o' uniforms That guard you while you sleepIs cheaper than them uniformsAnd they're starvation cheap."Somehow it doesn't matter to me that Kipling is jingoist and a patronizing racist and that occasionally I can't understand what he's talking about. Barrack room ballads was written for soldiers and Kipling understodd the soldier's experience and is not always complimentary to the Army command or to "The Widow of Windsor" and her wars. Readers will also find many phrases that have become commonplace in the language. While it lacks the some personal favorites ("If", "The Ballad of East and West"), this is a good collection to get an introduction to Kipling's poetry.
    • 4/5
      Read with context, these are a brilliant portrayal of the individuals who comprised the “thin red line” of the British infantry.Published in 1892 at the height of the British Empire, these verses do include racial epithets and record the military forces that maintained colonialism, but they are written in colloquial English about the ordinary soldier (private), not the officers and gentlemen.The verses are set mainly in the Indian subcontinent, but they try to capture the experience of the infantry in any war, the boredom, senselessness of orders and arbitrary death, for little warmth and reward. This selection most famously starts with Danny Deever, whose hanging is witnessed by Files-on-Parade, who recalls drinking his beer a score of times, and also includes Gunga Din, the regimental bhisti who carries water for the soldiers and dies rescuing an injured soldier, and Mandalay, with a time-expired soldier in drizzling London recalling the “Burma girl” he left behind in Mandalay.But there is no shying away from the likelihood of death, this from The Young British Soldier:When you're wounded and left on Afghanistan's plains,And the women come out to cut up what remains,Jest roll to your rifle and blow out your brainsAn' go to your Gawd like a soldier. And should the soldier survive to return to Britain, then there is little to look forward to, with the Troop-Sergeant-Major reduced to being a hotel doorman in Shillin’ a Day:Oh, it drives me half crazy to think of the days IWent slap for the Ghazi, my sword at my side,When we rode Hell-for-leatherBoth squadrons together,That didn't care whether we lived or we died.But it's no use despairin', my wife must go charin'An' me commissairin' the pay-bills to better,So if me you be'oldIn the wet and the cold,By the Grand Metropold, won't you give me a letter?
    • 4/5
      I love Kipling's poetry and find that some of his apparently jingoistic stuff is quite thoughtful underneath, putting forth the view of the ordinary soldier. Some of his war poems have quite an anti-war sentiment.
    • 4/5
      I love Kipling's poetry and find that some of his apparently jingoistic stuff is quite thoughtful underneath, putting forth the view of the ordinary soldier. Some of his war poems have quite an anti-war sentiment.

    Book preview

    Barrack Room Ballads - Rudyard Kipling

    The Project Gutenberg EBook of Barrack-Room Ballads, by Rudyard Kipling

    This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with

    almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or

    re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included

    with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org

    Title: Barrack-Room Ballads

    Author: Rudyard Kipling

    Release Date: December 8, 2008 [EBook #2819]

    Last Updated: January 8, 2013

    Language: English

    *** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BARRACK-ROOM BALLADS ***

    Produced by David Reed, and David Widger

    BARRACK-ROOM BALLADS

    By Rudyard Kipling

    Dedication: To T. A.

    CONTENTS

    First Series (1892)

    Danny Deever

    Tommy

    Fuzzy-Wuzzy

    Soldier, Soldier

    Screw-Guns

    Cells

    Gunga Din

    Oonts

    Loot

    'Snarleyow'

    The Widow at Windsor

    Belts

    The Young British Soldier

    Mandalay

    Troopin'

    The Widow's Party

    Ford o' Kabul River

    Gentlemen-Rankers

    Route Marchin'

    Shillin' a Day

    Second Series (1896)

    'Bobs'

    'Back to the Army Again'

    'Birds of Prey' March

    'Soldier an' Salor Too'

    Sappers

    That Day

    'The Men that fought at Minden'

    Cholera Camp

    The Ladies

    Bill 'Awkins

    The Mother-Lodge

    'Follow Me 'Ome'

    The Sergeant's Weddin'

    The Jacket

    The 'Eathen

    'Mary, Pity Women!'

    For to Admire

    Dedication

         To T. A.

             I have made for you a song,

             And it may be right or wrong,

         But only you can tell me if it's true;

             I have tried for to explain

             Both your pleasure and your pain,

         And, Thomas, here's my best respects to you!

             O there'll surely come a day

             When they'll give you all your pay,

         And treat you as a Christian ought to do;

             So, until that day comes round,

             Heaven keep you safe and sound,

         And, Thomas, here's my best respects to you!

    R. K.

    First Series (1892)

    Danny Deever

       What are the bugles blowin' for? said Files-on-Parade.

       To turn you out, to turn you out, the Colour-Sergeant said.

       What makes you look so white, so white? said Files-on-Parade.

       I'm dreadin' what I've got to watch, the Colour-Sergeant said.

           For they're hangin' Danny Deever, you can hear the Dead March play,

           The regiment's in 'ollow square—they're hangin' him to-day;

           They've taken of his buttons off an' cut his stripes away,

           An' they're hangin' Danny Deever in the mornin'.

       What makes the rear-rank breathe so 'ard? said Files-on-Parade.

       It's bitter cold, it's bitter cold, the Colour-Sergeant said.

       What makes that front-rank man fall down? said Files-on-Parade.

       A touch o' sun, a touch o' sun, the Colour-Sergeant said.

           They are hangin' Danny Deever, they are marchin' of 'im round,

           They 'ave 'alted Danny Deever by 'is coffin on the ground;

           An' 'e'll swing in 'arf a minute for a sneakin' shootin' hound—

           O they're hangin' Danny Deever in the mornin'!

       'Is cot was right-'and cot to mine, said Files-on-Parade.

       'E's sleepin' out an' far to-night, the Colour-Sergeant said.

       I've drunk 'is beer a score o' times, said Files-on-Parade.

       'E's drinkin' bitter beer alone, the Colour-Sergeant said.

           They are hangin' Danny Deever, you must mark 'im to 'is place,

           For 'e shot a comrade sleepin'—you must look 'im in the face;

           Nine 'undred of 'is county an' the regiment's disgrace,

           While they're hangin' Danny Deever in the mornin'.

       What's that so black agin' the sun? said Files-on-Parade.

       It's Danny fightin' 'ard for life, the Colour-Sergeant said.

       What's that that whimpers over'ead? said Files-on-Parade.

       It's Danny's soul that's passin' now, the Colour-Sergeant said.

           For they're done with Danny Deever, you can 'ear the quickstep play,

           The regiment's in column, an' they're marchin' us away;

           Ho! the young recruits are shakin', an' they'll want their beer to-day,

           After hangin' Danny Deever in the mornin'.

    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 be'ind 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 troopship'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

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