Mr. Punch on the Warpath: Humours of the Army, the Navy and the Reserve Forces by - (famous ebook reader TXT) 📗
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Unmoved Private (who has found an excellent place from which to view the attack practice). "Ther' now. We was just a-zaying as we thought 'twas bullets by the zound of 'em!"
[Pg 45]
A review of the Royal (Sub)marines near the Goodwin Sands.
(You could hardly "tell the Marines" in their new sub-aqueous uniform.)
[Pg 46]
DISTRIBUTION OF NAVAL MEDALS.We are happy to announce that the Lords of the Admiralty have issued an order for the distribution of medals to the officers and seamen who served in the naval actions hereunder specified. We understand the medals are of gold, set round with diamonds of the most costly description. Great caution will be used in the distribution, to prevent fraud in personating deceased officers, &c.
—A.D. 876. King Alfred's engagement with and destruction of the Danish fleet.
—1350. Great sea-fight between the English and the combined fleets of France and Spain.
—1588. Destruction of the Spanish Armada.
—1702. Admiral Benbow's engagement with the French.
—1761. Siege and capture of Belleisle.
N.B. No officer or seaman will be entitled to a medal in respect of the last-mentioned siege, unless he can satisfy their lordships that he was "there all the while."
[Pg 47]
Regular (manœuvring with Yeomanry). "Got to give up my arms, have I? Umph! This comes of going out with a lot of darned Volunteers."
[Pg 48]
Yeomanry Manœuvres. (First Day in Camp.)—Officer. "What's all this? What are you doing with that cask?"
Trooper. "Tent equipment, sir!"
[Pg 49]
The colonel is wondering what manœuvre he ought to execute in the circumstances.
[Pg 50]
Lieutenant Nobs (just arrived). "How long will you take to drive me to the fort, Cabby?"
Cabby. "Ten minutes, Capting, by the shortcut through the halleys. But the military allus goes the long way round, through the fashionable part o' the town, yer honour, which takes an hour."
[Cabby gets his hour.
[Pg 51]
Officer (examining a Mounted Infantry class). "Well, I think you understand about the hoof and what the frog is. Now, just tell me where you would expect to find corns?"
Mounted Infantry Recruit (suspecting a catch). "In the manger, sir."
[Pg 52]
Musketry Instructor (who wishes, by simple practical examples, to bring the fact of the air's resistance and elasticity to the mind of intelligent pupil, No. 450, Private Jones), loq. "For instance, you have seen an air-cushion, and felt that it contained something you could not compress. What was it?"
Private Jones (readily). "'Orse 'air, sir!"
[Enthusiastic instructor tries again.
[Pg 53]
Captain of Volunteers. "Dress back, No. 3, do dress back. Comp'ny! Fours! As y' were! No. 3, Mr. Buffles, how often am I to speak to you, sir? Will you dress back, sir; further still, sir. You are not dressed exactly yet, sir, by a——"
Buffles (goaded to madness). "Bet yer five pounds I am—there!"
[Pg 54]
LATEST WAR INTELLIGENCEIn the House of Commons, and elsewhere, the Secretary of State for War is accustomed to have appeals made to him to assist in providing facilities for the engagement and remunerative occupation of soldiers and non-commissioned officers no longer on active service. We are glad to notice, from the subjoined advertisement, which appeared in the Daily News, that the public themselves are taking the matter in hand:—
TWO GENERALS WANTED, as Cook and Housemaid for one lady. Light, comfortable situation. Good wages.—Apply, &c.
The advertiser, it will be observed, flies at higher rank than that usually considered in this connection. But the situation is "light" and "comfortable," with "good wages" pertaining, and she has some right to look for applicants of superior station. We presume that on festive[Pg 56] occasions the gallant officers would be expected to don their uniforms. Few things would be more striking than to see a general, probably wearing his war medals, sweeping the front door-step, whilst through the kitchen window a glimpse was caught of a brother officer, in full tog, larding a pheasant.
By the courtesy of the Admiralty H.M.S. Buzzard has been anchored as a permanent guardship of honour immediately opposite the approach to Mr Punch's offices in Bouverie Street. The compliment is much appreciated.
Further changes in our Navy are announced. Chaplains are to be abolished, and the navigating officers are to include in their duties those of sky-pilots.
A Cockney's Question on the Navy.—Does a Port Admiral mean an Admiral who is laid down for a long series of years, and not decanted for service till he is very old?
A Jovial Crew.—Jack Tars in a jolly-boat.
[Pg 55]
Fleet Surgeon. "There doesn't seem much wrong with you, my man. What's the matter?"
A. B. "Well, sir, it's like this, sir. I eats well, an' I drinks well, an' I sleeps well; but when I sees a job of work—there, I'm all of a tremble!"
[Pg 57]
(Aldershot.) General (to Irish recruit). "Can you tell me how many species of pack animals there are?"
(No answer.)
General. "Well, do you know any kind of pack animal?"
Recruit (inspired by recollection of many days' pack-drill.) "Yes, sorr. A defaulter, sorr!"
[Pg 58]
Colonel (who is taking a turn round to see how his subs are getting along with their road sketching). "You know, this won't do. You should be able to ride about the country, and make sketches as you go."
Jones (not getting along at all nicely, thank you). "Well, sir, if I could do that, sir, I should chuck up the army, and join a circus!"
[Pg 59]
Infuriated C. O. 10th V. B. Mudfordshire Fusiliers (who has ordered bugler to sound the "Cease fire" several times without effect). "Don't you hear me, fellow? Why the deuce don't you sound the 'Cease fire' when I tell you?"
His Bugler. "If ye plaze, zur, a've blowed a quid o' bacca down spout t'ould trumputt, awn I can't make un speak!"
[Pg 60]
SOLDIERS OF MISFORTUNE["Colonel Crofton, commanding the Eastern District, has decided that the 'quiff' is 'unsoldierly,' and 'disfiguring,' and has ukased its abolition. The 'quiff' is the forelock worn by Mr. Thomas Atkins."—Pall Mall Gazette.]
Letter from a Private in the British Army to a Private in the German Army.
Dere Ole Sauerkraut,—Ow' 're yer going along? Jest a line from the Eastern Distric' to tell yer that we've all got the fair 'ump. An' I'm blest if our colonel ain't an' been pitchin' on our 'air. When we 'is in the fightin' line they yells, "Keep your 'air on, boys!" but when we gets 'ome, sweet 'ome, they says take it orf. There's 'air! I must tell yer we wears a hartful curl on our forrids wot is knowed as a "quiff," and I give yer my word it's a little bit ov orl rite! Susan (with lots o' cash as bein' only daughter of a plumber), wot I walks out with, simply 'angs on to it with both 'ands, so to speak. Well, our colonel says the "quiff" is "unsoldierly" and "disfiguring," and we 'ave got to bloomin' well[Pg 62] lop it orf, no hank. This busts my charnst with Susan.
Yores melancholy-like,
["The German uniform is to be changed to a grey-brown. The officers are particularly annoyed at the change, and complain that they might at least have been allowed to keep the bright buttons on their tunics. These are also to be dulled down to the new drab r�gime. Everything that is not strictly utilitarian—tassels, lace, and decorations—is to be banished from the parade-ground."—Westminster Gazette.]
Letter from a Private in the German Army to a Private in the British Army.Mein Gut Friend,—We haf the both trouble much got! You haf the beautiful Susan verloren. I my Katrine am deprived of. Because why? I was so schmart lookin' in mein regimentalen blue dat Katrine fell in luff with me on first sighten and called me in ways of fun her leetle "blue teufel"! But now, ach Himmel! she at me cochet die snooken! "Cuts," as you say. I broken-ar-arted quite am. Because why? The Office die Warren as us ordered to take off der blue regimentalen. We haf in brown-grey to dress ourselves. Ah! dirdy, bad, rotten colour! And no more ze schon buttons to haf that the beating heart of Katrine conquered. Farewell to Katrine! She brown ates.—Zo longen
Query by the Navy League. Does Brittania rule the waves, or does she mean to waive her rule?
Commander. What is your complaint against this boy?
Bluejacket. Well, sir, as I was a-walkin' arft, this 'ere boy, 'e up an' calls me a bloomin' idjit. Now, 'ow would you like to be called a bloomin' idjit, supposin' you wasn't one?
[Pg 61]
Motor Lieutenant, Motor Volunteer Corps (to General in his charge). "I say, sir, if we"—(bump!)—"upset"—(bang!)—"shall I get"—(bump! bang!)—"a military funeral too?"
[Pg 63]
Perilous position of a gallant officer of Volunteers, on a recent march, who (ever thoughtful for the comfort of his hired charger) chooses the cooling waters of the ford in preference to the bridge. "Here! Hi! Help, somebody! Hold on! I mean halt! He won't come out, and he wants to lie down, and I believe he's going to rear!"
[Pg 64]
[Pg 65]
Trafalgar Day.—(At the Board School.) Teacher. Now can any boy tell me why Nelson's column was erected in Trafalgar Square?
Johnny Grimes (immediately). Please, sir, to 'elp 'im up to 'eaven, when 'e died in the arms of the Wictory.
Horse-buying "Expert." "Yes, it certainly does look more like a 'towel-horse' than anything else; still it'll have to do!"—Passed.
[Pg 66]
"How dreadfully stout the general is getting!"
"Yes, isn't it fortunate? Otherwise he wouldn't be able to wear all his medals!"
SOOTHSAYINGS FOR SAILORSAugury from fowls of air
Back to Tuscan gramarye dates.
Birds in February pair:
Now then, skippers, choose your mates.
[Pg 67]
Military Man. "Well! What are yer a starin' at—ain't yer never seed a sodger before?"
[Pg 68]
THE FORTUNE OF WAR (A fragment of a Military Romance, to be published a few years hence)["The long-proposed introduction of motor-cars into the army for transport purposes is on the point of accomplishment."—The Outlook.]
... "Comrades!" cried the proud general, addressing his troops (standing around him in the circular square ordered by the latest drill book), "at last we are about to reap the reward of our exertions. Thanks to our trusty motor-cars, we have traversed the desert at an average speed of twenty-five miles an hour. Our casualties have been few and insignificant. A dozen or so of the engines blew up, but not more than fifty men perished by these accidents. We have, indeed, to mourn the loss of some of the 75th Dragoons, whose motor-car went wrong in its steering, and rushed at express speed into the middle of a lake. And not a few of our heroes have been arrested by the native police on the charge of furious driving, with the result that they now languish in dungeons, awaiting
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