Rudyard Kipling
Sez the Junior Orderly Sergeant
To the Senior Orderly Man:
“Our Orderly Orf’cer’s ~hokee-mut~,
You ‘elp ‘im all you can.
For the wine was old and the night is cold,
An’ the best we may go wrong,
So, ‘fore ‘e gits to the sentry-box,
You pass the word along.”
So it was “Rounds! What Rounds?” at two of a frosty night,
‘E’s ‘oldin’ on by the sergeant’s sash, but, sentry, shut your eye.
An’ it was “Pass! All’s well!” Oh, ain’t ‘e drippin’ tight!
‘E’ll need an affidavit pretty badly by-an’-by.
The moon was white on the barricks,
The road was white an’ wide,
An’ the Orderly Orf’cer took it all,
An’ the ten-foot ditch beside.
An’ the corporal pulled an’ the sergeant pushed,
An’ the three they danced along,
But I’d shut my eyes in the sentry-box,
So I didn’t see nothin’ wrong.
Though it was “Rounds! What Rounds?” O corporal, ‘old ‘im up!
‘E’s usin’ ‘is cap as it shouldn’t be used, but, sentry, shut your eye.
An’ it was “Pass! All’s well!” Ho, shun the foamin’ cup!
‘E’ll need, etc.
‘Twas after four in the mornin’;
We ‘ad to stop the fun,
An’ we sent ‘im ‘ome on a bullock-cart,
With ‘is belt an’ stock undone;
But we sluiced ‘im down an’ we washed ‘im out,
An’ a first-class job we made,
When we saved ‘im, smart as a bombardier,
For six-o’clock parade.
It ‘ad been “Rounds! What Rounds?” Oh, shove ‘im straight again!
‘E’s usin’ ‘is sword for a bicycle, but, sentry, shut your eye.
An’ it was “Pass! All’s well!” ‘E’s called me “Darlin’ Jane”!
‘E’ll need, etc.
The drill was long an’ ‘eavy,
The sky was ‘ot an’ blue,
An’ ‘is eye was wild an’ ‘is ‘air was wet,
But ‘is sergeant pulled ‘im through.
Our men was good old trusties —
They’d done it on their ‘ead;
But you ought to ‘ave ‘eard ’em markin’ time
To ‘ide the things ‘e said!
For it was “Right flank — wheel!” for “‘Alt, an’ stand at ease!”
An’ “Left extend!” for “Centre close!” O marker, shut your eye!
An’ it was, “‘Ere, sir, ‘ere! before the Colonel sees!”
So he needed affidavits pretty badly by-an’-by.
There was two-an’-thirty sergeants,
There was corp’rals forty-one,
There was just nine ‘undred rank an’ file
To swear to a touch o’ sun.
There was me ‘e’d kissed in the sentry-box,
As I ‘ave not told in my song,
But I took my oath, which were Bible truth,
I ‘adn’t seen nothin’ wrong.
There’s them that’s ‘ot an’ ‘aughty,
There’s them that’s cold an’ ‘ard,
But there comes a night when the best gets tight,
And then turns out the Guard.
I’ve seen them ‘ide their liquor
In every kind o’ way,
But most depends on makin’ friends
With Privit Thomas A.!
When it is “Rounds! What Rounds?” ‘E’s breathin’ through ‘is nose.
‘E’s reelin’, rollin’, roarin’ tight, but, sentry, shut your eye.
An’ it is “Pass! All’s well!” An’ that’s the way it goes:
We’ll ‘elp ‘im for ‘is mother, an’ ‘e’ll ‘elp us by-an’-by!
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Analysis (AI Assisted)
This poem humorously captures the misadventures of a group of soldiers, specifically focusing on the antics of an overly intoxicated “Orderly Officer” and the efforts of his comrades to protect him from the consequences of his drunken behavior. Through playful dialect and exaggerated situations, it explores themes of camaraderie, loyalty, and the absurdity that can arise in military life, particularly under the stress of long hours and the temptation of alcohol.
The poem begins with a warning from the “Junior Orderly Sergeant” to the “Senior Orderly Man” about the Orderly Officer’s state: “Our Orderly Orf’cer’s ~hokee-mut~,” suggesting the officer is inebriated or otherwise incapacitated. The line “You ‘elp ‘im all you can” establishes the central theme of mutual support among the soldiers, despite the officer’s behavior. The soldiers are expected to cover for their superior, particularly by ensuring that he doesn’t make any public mistakes that would get him into trouble—such as failing to properly execute the rounds, a routine check of the soldiers’ posts. The repetition of “Rounds! What Rounds?” signals the confusion and absurdity of the situation, where even routine tasks are disrupted by the officer’s condition.
The poem’s tone is light and farcical, often employing a kind of comic understatement. For example, the officer is “holdin’ on by the sergeant’s sash,” a physical sign of his unsteady state, and yet the sentry is instructed to “shut your eye”—to ignore the officer’s drunken behavior and pass him along as if nothing were wrong. The line “An’ it was ‘Pass! All’s well!'” is almost a chant, with the soldiers repeating the mantra of reassurance even though it’s clear that all is definitely *not* well.
The imagery in the poem is both comic and vivid, as the officer stumbles through the night. “The moon was white on the barricks,” and “The road was white an’ wide” set a cold, clear scene—perfect for the absurd contrast of the officer’s behavior. His “ten-foot ditch” is a metaphor for the distance he has fallen, physically and metaphorically, but his comrades are quick to help him back on track. The “corporal pulled an’ the sergeant pushed,” and “I shut my eyes in the sentry-box,” suggests that everyone is complicit in covering for the officer’s drunkenness. The repeated refrain of “sentry, shut your eye” underlines the soldiers’ tacit agreement to turn a blind eye to the officer’s failings.
By the time the officer is sent home “on a bullock-cart,” having made a mess of things at the parade, the soldiers are still helping him maintain some dignity. “We sluiced ‘im down an’ we washed ‘im out” conveys that they did what they could to clean him up for the next morning’s parade, where he’s expected to appear as a responsible officer, despite his drunken antics. The line “For six-o’clock parade” hints at the rigid, punishing military schedule that continues regardless of personal failings, adding to the absurdity of the situation.
The humor escalates in the later stanzas, where the officer’s drunken behavior continues during the drill. He uses his sword “for a bicycle,” and kisses a private in the sentry box, yet the soldiers persist in pretending that all is well. The humor here is darkly comic, as the soldiers try to maintain order and decorum despite the officer’s complete disregard for military protocol. The “Right flank — wheel!,” “Left extend!,” and other drill commands are further examples of the chaotic and nonsensical atmosphere in which the soldiers must function. The comically exaggerated scene of the officer’s behavior and the soldiers’ efforts to cover for him builds the sense that the military routine is, at least in this instance, a farce.
The poem ends on a note of camaraderie and mutual reliance. Even though the soldiers must cover up their officer’s misdeeds and ignore his erratic behavior, there’s a sense of loyalty and collective responsibility among them. The officer is described as needing “affidavits pretty badly by-an’-by,” reinforcing the idea that his actions are so far beyond acceptable behavior that official records might be necessary to cover up the debacle. The final stanza, “We’ll ‘elp ‘im for ‘is mother, an’ ‘e’ll ‘elp us by-an’-by!” offers a hopeful and humorous resolution: although the soldiers are stuck covering for the officer, there’s an understanding that their loyalty will eventually be returned, even if indirectly.
The poem is a light-hearted critique of military life, with its absurdities, its dependence on routine and authority, and the camaraderie that soldiers often form as they navigate the chaos of their duties. Through its use of exaggerated humor, dialect, and absurd situations, the poem highlights the collective effort required to maintain appearances, even in the face of ridiculous behavior. It portrays the tension between military discipline and the reality of human flaws—especially when alcohol is involved—but it also underscores the strong bonds that can form between soldiers in even the most ridiculous of situations.