Rudyard Kipling
INFANTRY COLUMNS
We’re foot—slog—slog—slog—sloggin’ over Africa —
Foot—foot—foot—foot—sloggin’ over Africa —
(Boots—boots—boots—boots—movin’ up an’ down again!)
There’s no discharge in the war!
Seven—six—eleven—five—nine-an’-twenty mile to-day —
Four—eleven—seventeen—thirty-two the day before —
(Boots—boots—boots—boots—movin’ up an’ down again!)
There’s no discharge in the war!
Don’t—don’t—don’t—don’t—look at what’s in front of you.
(Boots—boots—boots—boots—movin’ up an’ down again);
Men—men—men—men—men go mad with watchin’ em,
An’ there’s no discharge in the war!
Try—try—try—try—to think o’ something different —
Oh—my—God—keep—me from goin’ lunatic!
(Boots—boots—boots—boots—movin’ up an’ down again!)
There’s no discharge in the war!
Count—count—count—count—the bullets in the bandoliers.
If—your—eyes—drop—they will get atop o’ you!
(Boots—boots—boots—boots—movin’ up an’ down again) —
There’s no discharge in the war!
We—can—stick—out—’unger, thirst, an’ weariness,
But—not—not—not—not the chronic sight of ’em —
Boot—boots—boots—boots—movin’ up an’ down again,
An’ there’s no discharge in the war!
‘Taint—so—bad—by—day because o’ company,
But night—brings—long—strings—o’ forty thousand million
Boots—boots—boots—boots—movin’ up an’ down again.
There’s no discharge in the war!
I—’ave—marched—six—weeks in ‘Ell an’ certify
It—is—not—fire—devils, dark, or anything,
But boots—boots—boots—boots—movin’ up an’ down again,
An’ there’s no discharge in the war!
© by owner. provided at no charge for educational purposes
Analysis (AI Assisted)
Rudyard Kipling’s poem *Infantry Columns* vividly captures the monotony, exhaustion, and unrelenting nature of war, especially from the perspective of the foot soldier. Through a combination of rhythmic repetition and stark imagery, Kipling paints a picture of the endless, grinding labor that is war for the infantryman.
The repetitive structure of the poem itself mirrors the repetitive nature of the soldier’s experience—constant movement, endless marching, and unbroken fatigue. The refrain “Boots—boots—boots—boots—movin’ up an’ down again!” is not only a literal description of the soldier’s feet on the move, but also a metaphor for the repetitiveness of war itself. This repetition emphasizes the soldiers’ sense of entrapment, where there is no escape from the routine of battle and marching. The line “There’s no discharge in the war!” acts as a grim refrain, underscoring the idea that soldiers are stuck in a cycle from which they cannot escape—discharge, or release from duty, is not an option for them.
Kipling also contrasts the tedium of the soldiers’ physical movements with the emotional toll of the war. In several instances, the poem highlights how the constant repetition of the task causes mental distress. For example, “Men—men—men—men—men go mad with watchin’ em” points to the psychological strain that war inflicts on those who must endure it. The soldiers are not only physically drained but are also mentally tormented by the unrelenting, soul-crushing nature of their service. The line “Try—try—try—try—to think o’ something different” shows the futile attempt to escape the mental anguish of the war, suggesting that the soldier’s mind, like his body, is trapped in a cycle of despair.
Kipling also uses the poem to explore the dehumanizing effects of war. The soldier’s identity is stripped down to his most basic function: movement, measured only in the steps of his boots. The soldier becomes an object of endurance rather than a human being with agency or emotional complexity. The mention of “counting the bullets in the bandoliers” adds to the mechanized image of the soldier. He is reduced to a machine, focused on the minutiae of survival rather than the broader purpose of his mission.
The line “I—’ave—marched—six—weeks in ‘Ell an’ certify / It—is—not—fire—devils, dark, or anything,” further intensifies this sense of dehumanization. Here, the soldier compares the horrors of the battlefield to the idea of Hell itself but dismisses the classic notions of evil, such as fire and devils, as secondary to the true torment: the constant, grueling movement. This is a powerful statement about how war wears away at a person’s humanity, turning even the very notion of hellish conditions into a mere part of the routine.
Kipling also touches on the camaraderie among soldiers as a small solace against the horror of war. “‘Taint—so—bad—by—day because o’ company,” he writes, showing that the presence of others can offer a temporary respite from the mental and emotional strain. But even this is fleeting, as night brings the isolation and oppressive thought of the long, lonely hours ahead: “night—brings—long—strings—o’ forty thousand million.” The endless repetition of boots moving on the ground becomes an almost unbearable sound in the silence of the night, adding to the sense of being trapped in an eternal, unending struggle.
The poem’s final line, “An’ there’s no discharge in the war!” is a powerful, defiant statement. It highlights the inescapable, ongoing nature of the soldier’s experience. There is no escape from this life, no release, no reprieve. The soldier must continue marching, day after day, despite the toll it takes on his body and mind.
In terms of structure, Kipling uses both repetition and rhythm to drive home the point of the poem. The use of the “boots—boots—boots” refrain creates a rhythmic beat that mirrors the steady, relentless march of the infantry. The soldiers are caught in a perpetual loop, much like the repeated words. The structure gives the reader a sense of the physical and emotional exhaustion the soldiers experience. Additionally, Kipling’s use of dialect (“‘ave,” “taint”) brings an authentic voice to the poem, further immersing the reader in the soldier’s world.
Overall, *Infantry Columns* serves as a stark, almost visceral portrayal of the brutality and mind-numbing repetition of war. It is a commentary not only on the physical hardships of military service but also on the psychological toll of being trapped in a system that offers no relief. Through his rhythmic repetition and simple yet striking language, Kipling conveys a powerful sense of exhaustion and hopelessness, a testament to the toll that war takes on the individual.