John Bower - On Patrol

" Can I believe your Lordships mean
To stand so idly by —
When a young lieutenant of twenty-four, pleading the need of Naval War,
Shall make an Admiral fly?

Never shall I believe it true
That I should have to fall
On an icy sea with an awful spank, by the act of one of a junior rank,
I – Schultz, of Donnington Hall. "

Their Lordships read – and bells were heard
That woke the echoing past;
And Scouts and messengers jumped and fled – till all was still as a world of dead
Beneath the wireless mast.

My Lords in solemn conclave drew
Behind a bolted door,
Threshing it out in full debate – "Is it a case for an Acting Rate?
Or use of Martial Law?"

At four o'clock in the afternoon,
With tea-cups clattering past,
Along the echoing Portland floor the whisper passed from door to door —
" They've settled it all at last! "

And I have the word of a lady fair
In Room Two Thousand B —
(A perfect peach, I beg to state), who typed the letter in triplicate
And passed it on to me.

" We find the Enemy Admiral's Note
Is based on Service Law —
That disrespect to a Flag afloat has sullied the fame of Poulson's boat
Despite the Needs of War.

But he erred unknowing – so we shall mask
His breach of Service pomp, —
We'll make him an Admiral, D.S.B. 2 2 D.S.B. = Duty Steam Boat. – Acting – payless – biscuit free,
In lieu of lodging and Comp.

We'll rate him at once as an A.I.O. 3 3 A.I.O. = Admiralty Interim Order.
With a K.R.A. and an I., 4 4 K.R.A.I. = King's Regulations and Admiralty Instructions.
We'll make him a deputy C.P.O., 5 5 C.P.O. = Chief Petty Officer. with Rank of Admiral, whether or no,
And a beautiful Flag to fly. "

And now when Poulson sails to war
In E-boat Seventy-two,
The boatswains pipe and the bugles blare, " Stand to attention – forward there !
The Admiral's passing you! "

That is the tale as told to me
By a friend from Beatty's Fleet,
When over a glass (or even two), he swore to me that the tale was true,
In a Tavern in Regent Street.

THE Council of Democracy around the table drew
(The table was a beauty – it was polished – it was new,
Twenty feet from side to side and half a mile in length,
Built of rosewood and mahogany of double extra strength.
The C in C had gone to jail to answer to the charge
Of saying what he thought about Democracy at large.
So the Council of Democracy had taken on the job,
After voting the removal of his Autocratic nob.
And the table was erected in a calm secluded spot,
Well away from any trenches, lest a voter should be shot).
And the Chairman raised a hammer and he hit the board a whack,
No one paid the least attention, so he put the hammer back.
Then he read the lengthy minutes of the gathering before,
To the ever-growing murmur of the Democratic snore.
And he put before the meeting all the questions of the day,
Such as "Shorter hours for Delegates, and seven times the pay."
With a minor matter for the end – "What shall the Council do
About this fellow Mackensen? they say he's coming through
With a hundred thousand hirelings of the Hohenzollern Line,
And breaking all the Union Rules by working after nine."
At this a group of Delegates departed for the door,
To consult with their constituents the conduct of the War.
The remainder started voting on the Delegation Pay,
And agreed with unanimity to seven quid a day.
They decided that unless the Germans travelled very fast,
There'd be time for all the speeches – so they took the matter last.
But just as Mr Blithers to the Chairman had addressed
His opinion – he departed for the Country of the Blest,
(Both in body and in spirit to the heavens he departed,
And the Council looked dispirited, though hardly broken-hearted).
All the delegates were wondering from whence the shell had come;
One arose to ask a question – Bang!! – he went to Kingdom Come.
"Mr Chairman," cried a Delegate. "A point of order! I
Don't believe the Huns are coming – it's an Autocratic lie.
I shall move the Army question do be left upon the Table,
And I'm going home to England just as fast as I am able."
Then he gathered up his papers, and was pushing back his chair,
When a heavy high explosive sent him sailing in the air.
The Chairman beat his hammer on the table all the while,
Yelling oaths and calling "Order" in a Democratic style.
But the Delegates were started on the question of the War,
(So as not to waste the speeches that they'd written out before).
And the Council of Democracy – a thousand fluent tongues —
Let the Germans have it hearty from its Democratic lungs.