Roman Legionaries

[Occhidiangela]

First of all, I must always encourage anyone to be a Legionaire, after the great fun we RBD scum had with The Legion of Greiz variant. FOR THE GREATER GLORY OF THE LEGION!

Secondly, I offer a touch of poetry suitable for the foot soldiers going on about the business of The Empire. Written from the poet of Victoria's Empire . . . Rudyard Kipling


BOOTS (Columns of Infantry)

WE’RE foot—slog—slog—slog—sloggin’ over Africa (-Anauroch-)
Foot—foot—foot—foot—sloggin’ over Africa—
(Boots—boots—boots—boots—movin’ up and down again!)
There’s no discharge in the war!

Seven—six—eleven—five—nine-an’-twenty mile today—
Four—eleven—seventeen—thirty—two the day before—
(Boots—boots—boots—boots—movin’ up and 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. (-the bolts from those damned lightning bugs-)
If—your—eyes—drop—they will get atop o’ you
(Boots—boots—boots—boots—movin’ up and 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—
Boots—boots—boots—boots—movin’ up an’ down again,
An’ there’s no discharge in the war!

’Tain’t—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!