How can I keep from Kipling, or “how the general got his stars.”

Yesterday’s news broadcast showed a view of Kabul, dusty, primitive in nature, lots of damaged buildings, desert and mountains in the distance. Save for changes in the means of transportation and the introduction of more deadly weaponry, it would not be that different today to soldiers from the days Rudyard Kipling wrote about. Many of them would recognize the places where their great-great-grandchildren are fighting today.


Kipling wrote this about one of two incidents, quite similar in nature, which occurred in 1879 & 1880. See the link below for more information about the event caused in large part by poorly planned and executed troop movements. As is the case today, moving troops from garrison to other locations was dangerous to men and costly in terms of equipment.

Ford O' Kabul River

Kabul town's by Kabul river --

Blow the bugle, draw the sword --

There I lef' my mate for ever,

Wet an' drippin' by the ford.

Ford, ford, ford o' Kabul river,

Ford o' Kabul river in the dark!

There's the river up and brimmin', an' there's 'arf a squadron swimmin'

'Cross the ford o' Kabul river in the dark.



Kabul town's a blasted place --

Blow the bugle, draw the sword --

'Strewth I sha'n't forget 'is face

Wet an' drippin' by the ford!

Ford, ford, ford o' Kabul river,

Ford o' Kabul river in the dark!

Keep the crossing-stakes beside you, an' they will surely guide you

'Cross the ford o' Kabul river in the dark.



Kabul town is sun and dust --

Blow the bugle, draw the sword --

I'd ha' sooner drownded fust

'Stead of 'im beside the ford.

Ford, ford, ford o' Kabul river,

Ford o' Kabul river in the dark!

You can 'ear the 'orses threshin', you can 'ear the men a-splashin',

'Cross the ford o' Kabul river in the dark.



Kabul town was ours to take --

Blow the bugle, draw the sword --

I'd ha' left it for 'is sake --

'Im that left me by the ford.

Ford, ford, ford o' Kabul river,

Ford o' Kabul river in the dark!

It's none so bloomin' dry there; ain't you never comin' nigh there,

'Cross the ford o' Kabul river in the dark?



Kabul town'll go to hell --

Blow the bugle, draw the sword --

'Fore I see him 'live an' well --

'Im the best beside the ford.

Ford, ford, ford o' Kabul river,

Ford o' Kabul river in the dark!

Gawd 'elp 'em if they blunder, for their boots'll pull 'em under,

By the ford o' Kabul river in the dark.



Turn your 'orse from Kabul town --

Blow the bugle, draw the sword --

'Im an' 'arf my troop is down,

Down an' drownded by the ford.

Ford, ford, ford o' Kabul river,

Ford o' Kabul river in the dark!

There's the river low an' fallin', but it ain't no use o' callin'

'Cross the ford o' Kabul river in the dark.

Ford o' Kabul River

the river disaster of the 10th Hussars 31 March 1879

by Garen Ewing

http://www.garenewing.co.uk/angloafghanwar/articles/fordokabul.php

The 46 troopers and 13 horses killed in attempting an unmarked crossing of a river died not in Kabul but actually just two miles from Jalalabad, which in itself is about 70 miles east of Kabul as the crow flies. Poetic license granted, the poem still addresses the problem of soldiers today as well as then, An anonymous British officer stationed at Jalalabad wrote,” that the British light (?) horseman is still overweighted with his own multifarious and complicated accoutrements, that, once submerged, he has small chance of coming up again?".

So too, today’s trooper laden with body armor, water, food, ammunition & weapon, first aid and communications gear, and mission specific items plus those things soldier add for their own purposes.

The British are still fighting in Afghanistan, playing their role in NATO, paying their cost, as always the case, in the lives and limbs of soldiers.

There is a history of British poetry about war in Afghanistan and the tradition continues in the words and thoughts of Sergeant David Stenhouse, 44

http://www.dailyrecord.co.uk/news/editors-choice/2009/10/27/soldier-writes-book-of-poems-detailing-hell-of-life-on-front-line-in-afghanistan-86908-21776488/

Three of his works can be found below:

The Hidden Killer

"The chaos and confusion that occurs straight after the blast, your comrades will have to act quickly; they will have to react fast. The smell of burnt flesh and the horrific pain at first sight, you will have to hang onto your life brave soldier, now begins the fight."

Stand And Fight

"Twenty-two brave men lost their lives within the month of July, yet our blood-stained flag still blows in the desert sky. Is it time we were leaving the Afghanistan plains, before more of our men are so cruelly slain? But no we are British, and we will stand and fight, hunting down the Insurgent day and night."

Suicide Bomber

"To him this is a Holy War, and you the infidel must pay, if you don't recognise and eliminate him, he's going to blow you away."

In the days leading up to Veterans’ Day, I’m going to search for more battlefield poetry penned by the troops who pulled duty there. I will focus on Afghanistan more than Iraq because of the longer history of warfare in Afghanistan and neighboring states. I’d also encourage anyone reading this blog to do your own searches and either post or forward to me anything you turn up that seems germane to the topic.

We took delivery of $140 worth of firewood this morning. Wonder what that looks like?

 
 
The stack is 16 feet long, 4 feet high and about 2 feet wide. There will be none of it left by spring. Depending upon how much of our remaining ash I can manage to split by hand, cut to length, and re-split, then stack, we may need another order of this size.
 
 
 
 
 
 
The smell of wood smoke is evident now in the mornings when we walk. The houses that use wood as their sole source of heat are firing up their stoves for warmth before the sun crests the ridges to the east. Currently that happens about 0930. First light is about 0630 with dawn at 0753 this morning.
 
I’ve reset my secondary watch to standard time today. Before we leave for Jonesborough Saturday evening I’ll reset all the clocks in the house and my primary watch.


The creek is interesting today as fallen leaves blanket the edge of the gravel banks along the channel. We went back to Middle Creek this afternoon so that Gloria could take some more photos of the area.

We’ve reached the peak for leaf color now and the trees will rapidly become uniformly brown before becoming bare.


Dinner will be baked butternut squash and grilled pork steaks