Snarleyow

Observation Post, Volume 1, Issue 4, 12 June 1942, Page 2

Snarleyow

A Parody With apologies to Major Sinel and Mr Kipling," we dedicate , this bit of nonsense to the Recruit Driversmay they never be troubled with corns on any other place than tile feet— AND HOW ! ! Now at this bloomin’ smoko, the talk j 'as been of war, Of number nines, and sargents, and the Army Service Corps. And what the OTHER topics was won’t bear repeatin’ now. So I am going to tell a tale of old ! Waipukurau .... How we was movin’ into action, with the Driver very sore, He’d done a mornin’s schoolin’ with a sargent from the Corps, And ’ed been tipped off on the up’ill, and bucked off on the brow,, Till ’e called each of ’is gallant steeds “a ruddy flamin’ cow.” He’d ’ave like to cut ’an left ’em, he was nearly tore in two, But he ’ung on to his saddle just the same as me or you. ! An’ he went -an’ fouled the leaders, and the driver sargent squeels, “Pull up!' Pull up! You idiot, stop diggin’ in your heels.’’ But the Driver ,’umped ’is shoulders, for the wheels was gOin ’ round, (He couldn’t stop, Conductor, if you give ’im arf-a-erown . . !) Ses ’e: “They’ve broke me bloomin’ wrists, an’ very sore I feels, And ’ow in the Hell can I hang on if I let’s go me ’eels?’’ He ’adn’t ’ardly spoke the word, before there was a yell, And the, limber pole sailed past ’is ear, and off ’is leg iron fell, And when the dust had cleared away, before the limber wheels, I There stood the staff instructors, pointing to ’is ’eels.

Then spoke the Staff Instructors, and their words was very plain, They ’urt the Driver’s feelin’s, and they didn’t soothe his pain. But the driver ’e give nothin’ ’cept a little coughin’ grunt, With each bump of thd" saddle, as they | swung to “Action Front. ’’ Now the moral of this story cam be ' very plainly seen, If you hold a glass behind your 1 legs, j and then look in between, And in the cool of evening, if you want I to have some fun, Dab on a little iodine, and you’ll be a ! man, my son. Down in the Tavistock, nobody cares, , Down to the Tavistock, the Driver re- I v - pairs, I With his foot on the rail, and his hand on his glass. ! He soaks up his beer, and forgets his sore . This little parody on Rudyard Kipling's “Snarleyow,’’ was written by. an old member of the Regiment, “Don' Sinclair,’’ about 1934, and will be re-I called by those gunners who were in ’ the old sth Battery at that time. Don, ; who was a Sergeant then is now Capt, ! Sinclair, G.S.O. 3, Corps Sigs, and has recently returned from overseas. Major I Sinel was our 0.C., and “Snarleyow’’ was looked for from him at every I “Smoko.’’ - == r-—