Smokin’ my pipe on the mountings, sniffin’ the mornin’ cool,
I climbs in my old brown gaiters along o’ my old brown mule.
The monkey can say what our road was — the wild-goat ‘e knows where we passed.
Stand easy, you long-eared old darlin’s! Out drag-ropes! With shrapnel! Hold fast — ‘Tss! ‘Tss!
For you all love the screw-guns — the screw-guns they all love you!
So when we take tea with a few guns, o’ course you will know what to do — hoo! hoo!
Jest send in your Chief an’ surrender — it’s worse if you fights or you runs:
You may hide in the caves, they’ll be only your graves, but you can’t get away from the guns! – Rudyard Kipling, The Screw Guns [1]