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by Marriott Edgar (1939)
Illustration by Bill Tidy
The year, 1812.
The centrepiece of the story, a canon.
So you can be excused for thinking this poem is something to do with Tchaikovsky's 1812 Overture.
But it isn't.
Rather than being about Russia's defence of Moscow against Napoleon, commemorated by the 1812 Overture, this poem is about the Duke of Wellington's success against Napoleon in Spain, commemorated by Marksman Sam's Christmas Pudding.
It was Christmas Day in the trenches They'd had 'em inspected that morning The sergeant reported the matter The Duke were upset when he heard | |
When Sam were informed of his sentence And so he sat cleaning his musket Now the centre that Sam's lot were holding They pounded away all the morning They started again after dinner |
Sam's Christmas Pudding |
The Duke said, "Sam, put down thy musket The Duke looked at Sam so reproachful Sam sniffed at these words kind of sceptic, |
He tipped cannon ball out of muzzle He took a good aim at the bastion The Duke, he weren't 'alf elated |
Right-o, Duke, let her fly |
Badge of the Royal Scots Fusiliers: a fused grenade bearing the Royal Arms |
Sam looked 'round to pick up his pudding Sam saw in a flash what 'ad happened: That's why fuisilliers wear to this moment |