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Robert Service

PostPosted: Fri Apr 04, 2008 11:30 am
by History
Any fans of Robert Service on here?

http://freemasonry.bcy.ca/biography/ser ... mcgee.html

History

PostPosted: Fri Apr 04, 2008 1:43 pm
by 4th gen Suthen'
Oh, I just love The Shooting of Dan McGrew ....absolutely wonderful :)

I wonder if that Hollies hit was inspired by Sam McGee.......suppose it must but McGhee is spelled diferent there is no mention of Curly Billy in the poem! :roll: so maybe not......

But it is great anyway!

PostPosted: Fri Apr 04, 2008 1:50 pm
by History
The mention of a "poke" (of gold) Obviously his Scottish upbringing.

History

PostPosted: Fri Apr 04, 2008 5:19 pm
by Machrihanish
My father is a big fan, I managed to track down one of his compilations one time for him...great stuff :)

PostPosted: Fri Apr 04, 2008 5:33 pm
by History
I have two of his books. As you say great stuff. 8)

PostPosted: Fri Apr 04, 2008 6:48 pm
by Machrihanish
Some of his works on the Internet Archive, site with audio versions of a lot of poetry, songs etc.
Here is Dan McGrew read by a chap called John McKenzie:

http://www.archive.org/details/JohnMacKenzieTheShootingofDanMcGrewRobertService

Once you get the hang of the accent you will be fine :)

PostPosted: Fri Apr 04, 2008 10:07 pm
by History
Enjoyed that thanks. Liked the accent as well :D

PostPosted: Fri Apr 04, 2008 10:51 pm
by oorly gourlay
I'm getting worse than cooncil TV, I've posted this before and don't apologise for doing it again. Service was a genius with words and is my second favourite poet. Irony, comedy and pathos all rolled in to a story about a Scots squaddy with dialect thrown in is a superb piece of work.

Has he been slightly ignored here because he was born south of the border :idea: :?:

oorly

"Hae ye heard whit ma auld mither's postit tae me?
It fair maks me hamesick," says Private McPhee.
"And whit did she send ye?" says Private McPhun,
As he cockit his rifle and bleezed at a Hun.
"A haggis! A Haggis!" says Private McPhee;
"The brawest big haggis I ever did see.
And think! it's the morn when fond memory turns
Tae haggis and whuskey--the Birthday o' Burns.
We maun find a dram; then we'll ca' in the rest
O' the lads, and we'll hae a Burns' Nicht wi' the best."

"Be ready at sundoon," snapped Sergeant McCole;
"I want you two men for the List'nin' Patrol."
Then Private McPhee looked at Private McPhun:
"I'm thinkin', ma lad, we're confoundedly done."
Then Private McPhun looked at Private McPhee:
"I'm thinkin' auld chap, it's a' aff wi' oor spree."
But up spoke their crony, wee Wullie McNair:
"Jist lea' yer braw haggis for me tae prepare;
And as for the dram, if I search the camp roun',
We maun hae a drappie tae jist haud it doon.
Sae rin, lads, and think, though the nicht it be black,
O' the haggis that's waitin' ye when ye get back."

My! but it wis waesome on Naebuddy's Land,
And the deid they were rottin' on every hand.
And the rockets like corpse candles hauntit the sky,
And the winds o' destruction went shudderin' by.
There wis skelpin' o' bullets and skirlin' o' shells,
And breengin' o' bombs and a thoosand death-knells;
But cooryin' doon in a Jack Johnson hole
Little fashed the twa men o' the List'nin' Patrol.
For sweeter than honey and bricht as a gem
Wis the thocht o' the haggis that waitit for them.

Yet alas! in oor moments o' sunniest cheer
Calamity's aften maist cruelly near.
And while the twa talked o' their puddin' divine
The Boches below them were howkin' a mine.
And while the twa cracked o' the feast they would hae,
The fuse it wis burnin' and burnin' away.
Then sudden a roar like the thunner o' doom,
A hell-leap o' flame . . . then the wheesht o' the tomb.

"Haw, Jock! Are ye hurtit?" says Private McPhun.
"Ay, Geordie, they've got me; I'm fearin' I'm done.
It's ma leg; I'm jist thinkin' it's aff at the knee;
Ye'd best gang and leave me," says Private McPhee.
"Oh leave ye I wunna," says Private McPhun;
"And leave ye I canna, for though I micht run,
It's no faur I wud gang, it's no muckle I'd see:
I'm blindit, and that's whit's the maitter wi' me."
Then Private McPhee sadly shakit his heid:
"If we bide here for lang, we'll be bidin' for deid.
And yet, Geordie lad, I could gang weel content
If I'd tasted that haggis ma auld mither sent."
"That's droll," says McPhun; "ye've jist speakit ma mind.
Oh I ken it's a terrible thing tae be blind;
And yet it's no that that embitters ma lot--
It's missin' that braw muckle haggis ye've got."
For a while they were silent; then up once again
Spoke Private McPhee, though he whussilt wi' pain:
"And why should we miss it? Between you and me
We've legs for tae run, and we've eyes for tae see.
You lend me your shanks and I'll lend you ma sicht,
And we'll baith hae a kyte-fu' o' haggis the nicht."

Oh the sky it wis dourlike and dreepin' a wee,
When Private McPhun gruppit Private McPhee.
Oh the glaur it wis fylin' and crieshin' the grun',
When Private McPhee guidit Private McPhun.
"Keep clear o' them corpses--they're maybe no deid!
Haud on! There's a big muckle crater aheid.
Look oot! There's a sap; we'll be haein' a coup.
A staur-shell! For Godsake! Doun, lad, on yer daup.
Bear aff tae yer richt. . . . Aw yer jist daein' fine:
Before the nicht's feenished on haggis we'll dine."

There wis death and destruction on every hand;
There wis havoc and horror on Naebuddy's Land.
And the shells bickered doun wi' a crump and a glare,
And the hameless wee bullets were dingin' the air.
Yet on they went staggerin', cooryin' doun
When the stutter and cluck o' a Maxim crept roun'.
And the legs o' McPhun they were sturdy and stoot,
And McPhee on his back kept a bonnie look-oot.
"On, on, ma brave lad! We're no faur frae the goal;
I can hear the braw sweerin' o' Sergeant McCole."

But strength has its leemit, and Private McPhun,
Wi' a sab and a curse fell his length on the grun'.
Then Private McPhee shoutit doon in his ear:
"Jist think o' the haggis! I smell it from here.
It's gushin' wi' juice, it's embaumin' the air;
It's steamin' for us, and we're--jist--aboot--there."
Then Private McPhun answers: "Dommit, auld chap!
For the sake o' that haggis I'll gang till I drap."
And he gets on his feet wi' a heave and a strain,
And onward he staggers in passion and pain.
And the flare and the glare and the fury increase,
Till you'd think they'd jist taken a' hell on a lease.
And on they go reelin' in peetifu' plight,
And someone is shoutin' away on their right;
And someone is runnin', and noo they can hear
A sound like a prayer and a sound like a cheer;
And swift through the crash and the flash and the din,
The lads o' the Hielands are bringin' them in.

"They're baith sairly woundit, but is it no droll
Hoo they rave aboot haggis?" says Sergeant McCole.
When hirplin alang comes wee Wullie McNair,
And they a' wonnert why he wis greetin' sae sair.
And he says: "I'd jist liftit it oot o' the pot,
And there it lay steamin' and savoury hot,
When sudden I dooked at the fleech o' a shell,
And it--dropped on the haggis and dinged it tae hell."

And oh but the lads were fair taken aback;
Then sudden the order wis passed tae attack,
And up from the trenches like lions they leapt,
And on through the nicht like a torrent they swept.
On, on, wi' their bayonets thirstin' before!
On, on tae the foe wi' a rush and a roar!
And wild to the welkin their battle-cry rang,
And doon on the Boches like tigers they sprang:
And there wisna a man but had death in his ee,
For he thocht o' the haggis o' Private McPhee.

And so much more ----

PostPosted: Fri Apr 04, 2008 11:00 pm
by Machrihanish
Great poem Oorly, not heard that one before :)

PostPosted: Fri Apr 04, 2008 11:05 pm
by History
Machrihanish this is a version recited at Gettysburg in 1999. I hadn't heard of it either 'till recently. Thanks Oorley

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IZNcnfmi ... re=related

PostPosted: Fri Apr 04, 2008 11:10 pm
by Machrihanish
thanks for that :) noticed quite a few recitals on there.
This one is great: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6lBkuz1TlVc&feature=related

PostPosted: Sat Apr 05, 2008 2:11 am
by EMDEE
Is it too obvious to say that he was inspired by the spirit of the "Address to a Haggis" by Robert Burns?

PostPosted: Sat Apr 05, 2008 8:14 am
by gizmo
Ah! got it now. If this poem was inspired by Burns and used at Getysburg, is this the famous Getysburg address?

PostPosted: Sun Apr 06, 2008 3:07 pm
by Machrihanish
EMDEE wrote:Is it too obvious to say that he was inspired by the spirit of the "Address to a Haggis" by Robert Burns?

Quite possibly Emdee, enjoyable all the same.
Like many works it is all in the telling. I remember a Burns Supper in the village hall in Machrihanish many years ago and the best bit of the night was when Tam o' Shanter was recited by Jock (if memory serves) Kerr...brilliant :)

PostPosted: Sun Apr 06, 2008 8:08 pm
by EMDEE
I was at a couple of these Machrihanish Burns Suppers in the early 1970s. Must have been a different year.