Edward Owen Rutter
Should you question, should you ask me
Whence this song of Tiadatha?
Who on earth was Tiadatha?
I should answer, I should tell you,
He was what we call a filbert,
Youth of two and twenty summers.
You could see him any morning
In July of 1914,
Strolling slowly down St. James’s
From his comfy flat in Duke Street.
Little recked he of in those days,
Save of socks and ties and hair-wash,
Girls and motor-cars and suppers;
Little suppers at the Carlton,
Little teas at Rumpelmeyer’s,
Little week-ends down at Skindle’s;
Troc and Cri and Murray’s knew him,
And the Piccadilly grill-room,
And he used to dance at Ciro’s
With the fairies from the chorus.
There were many Tired Arthurs
In July of 1914.
Then came war, and Tiadatha
Read his papers every morning,
Read the posters on the hoardings,
Read “Your King and Country want you.”
“I must go,” said Tiadatha,
Toying with his devilled kidneys,
“Do my bit and join the Army.”
So he hunted up a great-aunt,
Who knew someone in the Service,
Found himself in time gazetted
To a temporary commission
In the 14th Royal Dudshires.
Straight away Tiadatha hied him
To the shop of Bope and Pradley,
Having seen their thrilling adverts.
In the Tube and in the Tatler.
Pradley sold him all he needed,
Bope a lot of things he didn’t,
Pressed upon him socks and puttees,
Haversacks and water-bottles.
Made him tunics for the winter,
Made him tunics for the summer,
And some very baggy breeches.
There he chose his cap of khaki,
Very light and very floppy
(Rather like a tam-o’-shanter),
And a supple chestnut Sam Browne,
Quite a pleasant thing in Sam Brownes,
Rather new but very supple.
Many pounds spent Tiadatha
On valises, baths and camp beds,
Spent on wash-hand stands and kit bags.
Macs and British warms and great-coats,
And a gent’s complete revolver.
Then he went to Piccadilly,
Where he ordered ties and shirtings,
Cream and coffee ties and shirtings,
Ordered socks and underclothing,
Putting the lot down to Father.
Compass, torch and boots and glasses
All of these sought Tiadatha;
All day boys with loads were streaming
To and from the flat in Duke Street,
Like a chain of ants hard at it
Storing rations for the winter.
“One more thing,” cried Tiadatha,
“One more thing ere I am perfect.
I must have a sword to carry
In a jolly leather scabbard.”
So he called the son of Wilkin,
Wilkin’s son who dwelt in Pall Mall,
Bade him make a sword and scabbard.
And the mighty son of Wilkin
Made a sword for Tiadatha,
From the truest steel he made it,
Slim and slender as a maiden,
Sharper than a safety razor,
Sighed a little as he made it,
Knowing well that Tiadatha,
Probably would never use it.
Then at last my Tiadatha
Sallied forth to join the Dudshires,
Dressed in khaki, quite a soldier,
Floppy cap and baggy breeches,
Round his waist the supple Sam Browne,
At his side the sword and scabbard,
Took salutes from private soldiers
And saluted Sergeat-Majors
(Who were very much embarrassed),
And reported at Headquarters
Of the 14th Royal Dudshires.
Shady waters of a river,
Feels when by some turn of fortune
He gets plopped into a cistern
At a comic dime museum,
Finds himself among strange fishes,
Finds his happy freedom vanished,
Even so felt Tiadatha
On the day he joined the Dudshires.
But he pulled himself together,
Found the Adjutant, saluted,
Saying briefly, “Please I’ve come, sir.”
Such was Tiadatha’s joining.
© by owner. provided at no charge for educational purposes
Analysis (AI Assisted)
This section of the poem continues the playful, almost satirical portrayal of Tiadatha, a young man who, in the early days of World War I, transitions from a carefree, indulgent life to becoming a soldier. The tone here is one of light irony, as we see Tiadatha, who previously spent his days in luxury—attending social events, dining out, and enjoying the pleasures of life in London—now preparing for war in a way that is almost absurd in its overindulgence.
The poem takes us through the comedic absurdity of Tiadatha’s preparations, from his choice of a floppy khaki cap to the purchase of a sword that he’s unlikely to ever use. The focus on Tiadatha’s attention to detail, ordering everything from socks and ties to a revolver and a sword, underscores the contrast between his previous life of comfort and the harsh realities he’s about to face. There’s a distinct comedic element to his excessive purchases and his quest for the “perfect” soldier’s kit, as though he’s treating the army like a new wardrobe or an elaborate game. The reference to him shopping at the store of Bope and Pradley, guided by advertisements, is another humorous touch, suggesting that Tiadatha, like many people of his class and time, is more concerned with appearances than actual readiness for war.
Yet there’s something tragic in his naïveté as well. Tiadatha, though eager to “do his bit” for his country, doesn’t truly understand the gravity of what he’s about to face. His idea of war is somewhat romanticized, and the idea of “doing his bit” feels almost like an afterthought, something to check off a list after his shopping spree. This is highlighted when he orders his sword and scabbard, a seemingly absurd item for a soldier headed to the front lines. The line, “Probably would never use it,” reveals the deep irony of the situation: Tiadatha is preparing for a war he has no real understanding of, and the object he prizes—his sword—is a useless relic in the context of modern warfare.
The moment Tiadatha joins the 14th Royal Dudshires is treated with the same mix of comedy and confusion. His arrival at Headquarters, where he is greeted by embarrassed Sergeant-Majors, mirrors his earlier, misplaced enthusiasm. He is clearly out of his depth, unsure of what he’s truly gotten himself into. This feeling of confusion, highlighted by the line “Shady waters of a river,” evokes a sense of being thrown into an unfamiliar world, one where his previous life and training seem wholly irrelevant.
In many ways, the poem presents a critique of how people like Tiadatha—young men with privilege and little knowledge of hardship—respond to the call to serve. They are more concerned with their appearance, the prestige of their position, and the trappings of military life than the real experiences that await them. Through Tiadatha, the poem highlights the absurdity of trying to prepare for war by accumulating material things and playing at soldiering, when the true challenges will be far beyond what any piece of equipment can protect them from.
Ultimately, this section reinforces the poem’s larger themes: the disconnect between idealism and reality, the absurdity of military life for those unprepared for its true demands, and the tragicomic nature of young men like Tiadatha, who are forced to grow up in the face of war. The humor in Tiadatha’s journey serves to underscore the deeper ironies of war and the human condition, offering both a lighthearted look at military life and a subtle critique of those who enter it with little understanding of what it truly entails.