We make 'em their bridges, their wells, an' their huts, An' the telegraph-wire the enemy cuts,

An' it's blamed on, etc.

An' when we return, an' from war we would cease, They grudge us adornin' the billets of peace, Which are kept for, etc.

We build 'em nice barracks-they swear they are
bad,

That our Colonels are Methodist, married or mad,
Insultin', etc.

They haven't no manners nor gratitude too,

For the more that we help 'em, the less will they do, But mock at, etc.

Now the Line's but a man with a gun in his hand,
An' Cavalry's only what horses can stand,

When helped by, etc.

Artillery moves by the leave o' the ground,
But we are the men that do something all round,
For we are, etc.

I have stated it plain, an' my argument's thus ("It's all one," says the Sapper),

There's only one Corps which is perfect-that's us; An' they call us Her Majesty's Engineers,

Her Majesty's Royal Engineers,

With the rank and pay of a Sapper!

THAT DAY

IT got beyond all orders an' it got beyond all 'ope; It got to shammin' wounded an' retirin' from the

'alt.

'Ole companies was lookin' for the nearest road to slope;

It were just a bloomin' knock-out-an' our fault!

Now there ain't no chorus 'ere to give,

Nor there ain't no band to play;

An' I wish I was dead 'fore I done what I did,
Or seen what I seed that day!

We was sick o' bein' punished, an' we let 'em know it, too;

An' a company-commander up an' 'it us with a

sword,

An' some one shouted "'Ook it!" an' it come to sove

ki-poo,

An' we chucked our rifles from us-O my Gawd!

There was thirty dead an' wounded on the ground we wouldn't keep

No, there wasn't more than twenty when the front

begun to go;

But, Christ! along the line o' flight they cut us up like sheep,

An' that was all we gained by doin' so.

I 'eard the knives be'ind me, but I dursn't face my

man,

Nor I don't know where I went to, 'cause I didn't

'alt to see,

Till I 'eard a beggar squealin' out for quarter as 'e

ran,

An' I thought I knew the voice an' it was me!

We was 'idin' under bedsteads more than 'arf a march

away;

We was lyin' up like rabbits all about the country

side;

An' the major cursed 'is Maker 'cause 'e lived to see

that day,

An' the colonel broke 'is sword acrost, an' cried.

We was rotten 'fore we started-we was never

disciplined;

We made it out a favour if an order was obeyed; Yes, every little drummer 'ad 'is rights an' wrongs to

mind,

So we had to pay for teachin'-an' we paid!

The papers 'id it 'andsome, but you know the Army knows;

We was put to groomin' camels till the regiments withdrew,

An' they gave us each a medal for subduin' England's foes,

An' I 'ope you like my song-because it's true!

An' there ain't no chorus 'ere to give,

Nor there ain't no band to play;

But I wish I was dead 'fore I done what I did,
Or seen what I seed that day!

"THE MEN THAT FOUGHT AT

MINDEN"

A SONG OF INSTRUCTION

THE men that fought at Minden, they was rookies in their time

So was them that fought at Waterloo!

All the 'ole command, yuss, from Minden to

Maiwand,

They was once dam' sweeps like you!

Then do not be discouraged, 'Eaven is your 'elper, We'll learn you not to forget;

An' you mustn't swear an' curse, or you'll only catch

it worse,

For we'll make you soldiers yet!

The men that fought at Minden, they 'ad stocks beneath their chins,

Six inch 'igh an' more;

But fatigue it was their pride, and they would not be

denied

To clean the cook-'ouse floor.