other people's nifty fanwork

[castiron]

In my ACD Holmes/BBC Sherlock crossover fic Not Yet Dead, I had a throwaway reference to a poem Kipling had written in that 'verse called "Be A Man as Watson Was". I tossed around the idea of writing some of that poem but never did anything with it.

Enter M. Vernet, a contributor at McMurdo's Camp, who wrote a lovely poem in the comments and kindly gave me permission to repost here. I apologize to her for taking six months to get around to it!



Be a man as Watson was

Orderly, I was, name o' Murray
O' the Berkshires, 66th regiment.
An' I would not be 'ere today
To write this rhyme o' sentiment,
If I never served wit' Watson.

A bullet took me in a breath,
As I served in the Maiwand battle.
I would 'ave died a soldier's death,
My throat give up death's rattle,
If not for the courage o' Watson.

The bullet went through my Sun 'elmet,
My sweaty brow bled from the graze.
I saw my life's end, I was full o' regret,
Saw the Ghazi take aim in my daze.
I'd be dead, if not for a shot from Watson!

Watson 'eard me yell, and grab my 'ead,
Saw the 'elmet fly through the air.
'e saw the Ghazi who wanted me dead,
Grabbed a gun, took aim wit' care.
I was saved from an early grave by Watson.

The air was alive wit' bloody Jazails,
'e grabbed my arm and we fled.
A stray bullet through the tent did sail,
An' bit 'im on the leg.
'e never did stop, that Watson.

That man gave me water, lay me down,
Till my 'ead cleared, an' 'is face I saw.
'e 'ooked at 'is wound wit' a slight frown,
Tightened 'is Puttees, got on wit' the war.
I never met a braver man than Watson.

We both got upright and saw the end.
We knew what we 'ad to get done.
We put the poor wounded on 'orses to send
Down the road wit' no victory won.
I was proud to work besides Watson.

I 'eard the bullet's whinnin' scream,
I saw the man fall by my side.
I found m'self wishin' it all was a dream,
I wrapped 'is wound an' found 'im a ride.
Took the road to Kandahar, an' saved Watson.

We both survived, Gawd, I durns't know 'ow,
At the Troop Train we bit our adoos.
It warms my 'eart to read of it now,
'e wrote I was brave and true.
Truth is, 'e's the 'ero. that Watson.

Now I'm old, tell my tales to babes at their beds.
They want stories o' swords, noble victories,
Glories, 'onour, thrills, fill their 'eads.
An' I tells them the best thing to be.
Be a man as Watson was, my Dears!
To be a man as Watson was.