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Re: gun barrels

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  • R. Feltoe
    Jim, I have always liked ol e Sam and have many of the monologues in print or memorised. This one goes particularly well to the WW1 tune It was Christmas Day
    Message 1 of 8 , May 2, 1999
      Jim, I have always liked ol'e Sam and have many of the monologues in print
      or memorised. This one goes particularly well to the WW1 tune "It was
      Christmas Day in the workhouse"
      -----Original Message-----
      From: Jim Keigher <jkeigher@...>
      To: WarOf1812@onelist.com <WarOf1812@onelist.com>; WarOf1812@onelist.com
      Date: Saturday, May 01, 1999 11:49 AM
      Subject: [WarOf1812] Re: gun barrels

      >From: Jim Keigher <jkeigher@...>
      >To all,
      >In regards to gun barrels, I came across this little bit of barracks room
      >ballad. It is interesting to note that the ditty states that Sam
      > "sat there, cleanin' 'is musket
      > And polishing barrel and butt . . ."
      >Other that that, enjoy the song.
      >Jim Keigher
      >Corps of Canadian Voyageurs
      >Fort William
      >(Stanley Holloway)
      >'Twere Christmas Eve in the trenches,
      >In Spain, in Peninsular War
      >And Sam Small were cleaning 'is musket,
      >A thing that he'd ne'er done before.
      > For they'd had an inspection that mornin'
      > And Sam had gone down in disgrace.
      > For when Sergeant 'had looked down the barrel ---
      > A sparrer flew out in 'is face!
      >The sergeant reported the matter
      >To Leftenant Byrd, then and there.
      >Said Leftenant " 'Ow jolly disgusting.
      >The Duke must be told of this 'ere!"
      > The duke were upset when he 'eard it.
      > 'E said, "I'm astonished, I am.
      > I must make a most drastic example.
      > There'll be no Christmas pudding for Sam!"
      >When Sam were informed of his sentence
      >Surprise rooted 'im to the spot.
      >'Twere far worse than 'e 'ad expected---
      >'E thought as he'd merely be shot.
      > So Sam sat there, cleanin' 'is musket
      > And polishing barrel and butt
      > While the pudding 'is mother 'ad sent 'im
      > Lay there, on the ground, near 'is foot.
      >Now the sector that Sam's lot were 'olding
      >Ran about a place called Badajoz
      >Where the Spaniards 'ad put up a bastion,
      >And Oh! what a bastion it was.
      > They pounded away all that morning,
      > Bombarding as 'ard as they could,
      > And the Duke brought 'is own private cannon;
      > But that weren't a ha'pporth of good.
      >The Duke said, "Sam. Put dahn thy musket.
      >And help me to lay this gun true."
      >Said Sam, "Ye'd be best askin' favors
      >Of them as ye give puddin' to."
      > The Duke looked at Sam so reproachful
      > And "Don't take it that way." says he,
      > "Us generals have got to be ruthless.
      > It hurt me more than it did thee."
      >Sam sniffed at these words, kind of septic
      >Then looked at the Duke's private gun,
      >And said "We best put in two charges.
      >We'll never bust bastion wi' one."
      > Sam tipped cannon ball out of muzzle,
      > Then took out the wadding and all,
      > Filled barrel chock full of powder,
      > Then picked up and replaced the ball.
      >Sam sighted once, right along barrel,
      >And said,"Righto Duke! Let 'er fly!"
      >The cannon nigh jumped off its trunnions!
      >And oop went the bastion, sky-high!
      > The Duke, 'e weren't 'arf elated,
      > He danced all around in great glee,
      > And said, "Sam. For thy gallant action
      > Ye can 'ot up yer puddin' for tea."
      >Sam bent down to pick up 'is puddin'
      >But it weren't nowhere about
      >In the place where 'e thought 'e 'ad left it
      >Were the cannonball 'e 'ad tipped out!
      > Sam saw in a flash what 'ad 'appened.
      > By an unprecedented mis'ap
      > The puddin' 'is mother 'ad sent 'im
      > 'Ad blown Badajoz off the map!
      >Which is why cannoneers wear to this day
      >A badge, which they think's a grenade.
      >But it's not. It's a brass reproduction
      >Of the puddin' Sam's mother once made.
      >Looking for a new hobby? Want to make a new friend?
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      >The War of 1812: In Europe, thousands fought over the fate of hundreds of
      square miles: in North America, hundreds determined the fate of THOUSANDS of
      square miles...
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