WITH "TOMMY" AT THE FRONT.

Evening Star, Issue 11681, 13 February 1902, Page 8

WITH "TOMMY" AT THE FRONT.

,: When yer says this war l* nearly finished, Jack, yer talkin' through the hack o' yer bloomin' neck, yon are. I teil yer straight it won't never be over." "What- yer tryin' to giv' ns ? You wasn't long enough out-there to get-a. good dinner." "No, that's a fact; never got rv Wromin' tightener yet. Was only out there eight months. But Fve got six bloomin' bars on me medal, an' was in Magersfontein at that, too, an' don't want any more. No bloomiif flies on the Boers, 1 te'l yer. They ain't Imperial Yeomanry, tJ-e Boers ain't. What can yer expect who?) boysyes, boys—what should be hangin' to their mothers' apron-strings are in charge of trained sodgers, an' bloomin' volunteer, orficers at that, too. I was on outpost one night, an' one of 'em came roundl in the dark wiv* a bloomin' lighted iarop to visit outposts, mind yer. Yes, they'll finish, the war, I don't think." "Yes, an' I'll tell yer more, boo. I was on sentry one day, an J in comes two scouts wiv a native. I halted 'em, am' would not let 'em in, yer see, when up comes a young "cheeko" of an orficcr an' nearly scoffed me for doitf me bloomin' daty; an', gays 'e: 'Doift yer know yer own men when yer sees 'em, you thick-headed son of a gnu? Well, I was nearly makia' in time-ex, but I kept me temper. 'E took the three of 'em into camp. Soon after the two scouts came out an* went off again, an' so did the bloomin' nigger a few hours after, when 'e 'ad got to know all 'e wanted to know. They wasn't our seovrte at all—they was bloomirr* Boers all the time, an' I knowed it, too. An' so did the troops through the night, when the Boers came an* tried to rash us. Yes, the war is nearly finished. Yes, nearly." TOMMY'S RECEPTION HOME. "Was yer invalided 'ome wiv enteric, Bair " Yes, -bloomm' enteric in three bloomin' places, too, at tliat. Once in tr>e thigh, an' it was a beauty, too. Thought I was sent for that tixm. Once throueh the 'and —-look at me bloomin' finger. Do yer call that enteric? An' once through the bloomin' 'eart." " What yer tryin' to giv' ue—not through the 'cartf*

"Well, bloorain' near it. Took, all the bloomin' stuffin" out o' me, anyhow." " 'Ow did yer get on when, ver came 'ome?"

" Oh, 'twas pure root, man When I got to the station the whole bloomin' village was waitin' on me. They 'ad A band, too —must 'av borrowed it somewhere. They shouted an' cheered an' played an' sung 'See, the conquerin' 'ero comes.' I thought the bloomin' war was finished, I did; an' the 'okl feflow' was there wiv little Union Jacks stuck in 'is 'at, an' wavra* some more in 'is 'ands; an' all the young dusters what I used to court was there, an' when I popped me 'sad out of the window of the tram they shouted 'Oh, there 'e is,' an' when I got out they kissed me an' squeezed ,me. Man, I thought I was in 'Eaven, I did, straight. Then they asked me 'boot my wounds, an' what they called that stuff, meanin' me 'khaki.' Some of 'em give me cigars, others asked me to dinner, some to tea, some for a walk; but, says I to myself, 'ere's a bloke goin' to 'av *is first sleep for eight mouths. An' me poor old mother —God bless 'er—when site sees me she starter ter cry, as if that would finish the bloomin' war; an' she says ' Where's yer medal, Willie?' They don't give medals till the war is over, but they 'av givin' me one now, Jack, 'cos they know it will never be over 'as long as they keep good old Kitchener's 'ands tied.'" RED TAPE.

"Too rniwh bloomin' red tape, that's what I says." "What yer call red tape, Jack?"

"What do I call rod tape? Three bloomin' days to barracks for ' scoffin'' yer emergency rations when a bloke is .starvin'. That's one thing I calls red tape, an' givin' one regiment 'bout thirteen Victoria Crosses aif others none, when they've won 'em. I says give honor where honor is due. Look at the Dublin Fusileers. Is there any regiment what's done more 'an 'em, an' they've got 'sweet,' 'cos they ain't got the Prince of Wales for 'onoraiy colonel, an 'cos they don't 'av pipere ter play ' The cock o' the north.' An' look at the Durhams, the old Faithfuls, what they did at Vaal Krantz, an' got uoftink! An' the Seaforths, what 'as 'ad the least died through sickness and the most killed an' wounded in the whole war. That's what I calls red tape —givin' 'em noffink for doin' good work and winnin' V.C.s an'not gettin' 'em. An' ye don't want to go any further 'an the ' Old an' Bold,' the Fighting Fifth. Look wha' they've done. A bloke justs wants ter look at tie casualty lists an' see who's been doin' the work, an' then yer will see for yerself what I calls red tape. Casualty lists—that's what shows who's been doin' the fightin' an' not boldin' up bloomin 5 white handkerchiefs. I see the Queen is goin' to present the Yeomanry wiv a beautiful white silk flag. Don't call that red tape; I calls it bloomin' common sense, I do."