The clink of a stopper and glass: A sigh as the chloroform drips: A trickle of—what? on the grass, And bluer and bluer the lips. The lashes have hidden the stare.... A rent, and the clothes fall away.... A touch, and the wound is laid bare.... A cut, and the face has turned grey.... And it’s _War_! ’Orderly, take It out. It’s hard for his child, and it’s rough on his wife, There might have been—sooner—a chance for his life. But it’s _War_! And—Orderly, clean this knife!’ *ARMY DOCTOR* Army Doctor! Army Doctor! ’Ere’s some ’cruities for inspection,— Some in rags, an’ some in cuffs. Some in shirts, an’ some without ’em, Wot a blessed strange collection! Served before? You needn’t doubt ’em, Bloomin’ muffs! Army Doctor! Army Doctor! Take your sword, an’ drop your lancet, Teach your nurses ’ow to fight! ’Ow to march the dead march—solemn! ’Ow to route march—an’ to dance it! Teach ’em ’ow to march in column, By the right! Army Doctor! Army Doctor! Gold an’ velvet! ’broidered lacin’s, ’Oldin’ ’igh your bloomin’ ’ead! ’Seen you peel that coat so winnin’, ’Seen you stain them pretty facin’s, ’Seen your ’ighly glossy linen, Splattered red! Army Doctor! Army Doctor! ’Sun is ’ot—an’ we are learnin’ Lessons in the cholera school, We’re fear-sick, an’ mad as ’atters, Throat a-parchin’, ’ead a-burnin’, Seems to me, _you’re_ takin’ matters Rather cool! Army Doctor! Army Doctor! Spurs and swagger! Cuff an’ collar! Up to ev’ry bloomin’ trick! ’Seen you—as I’ve seen none other— Go to—where _I_ dursn’t foller! ’Seen you act the man and brother To the sick! Army Doctor! Army Doctor! Things by Engineers forgotten, _You_ ’ave got to recollect. Tho’ you’re such a gilded dandy, When the meat is goin’ rotten, Chances are, _you’re_ somewhere ’andy To inspect! Army Doctor! Army Doctor! Where the firin’ never ceases, Where the ’uddled soldier lies, Where the Mauser bullets shave ’im, Gawd! they’re chippin’ ’im to pieces! Git ’im out of fire an’ save ’im.... _Well done, Guys!_ *NICHOLSON’S NEK* _They gave their best at Waterloo,_ _For the honour of England’s name;_ _They threw their best on a hundred fields,_ _To put our foes to shame._ _’Tis good that England’s soldier men_ _To-day can do the same._ They have proved their worth, To the ends of the earth. They have striven and won,—and failed! They have shown their might, On the Dargai Height, When the _mollah’s_ bullets hailed.