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Poem by William Topaz McGonagall General Roberts in Afghanistan 'Twas in the year of 1878, and. the winter had set in, Lord Roberts and the British Army their march did begin, On their way to Afghanistan to a place called Cabul; And the weather was bitter cold and the rivers swollen and full. And the enemy were posted high up amongst the hills, And when they saw the British, with fear their blood thrills; The savages were camped on the hillsides in war array, And occupying a strong position which before the British lay. And viewed from the front their position was impregnable, But Lord Roberts was a general of great skill; Therefore to surprise the enemy he thought it was right, To march upon the enemy in the dead of night. Then the men were mustered without delay, And each man of them was eager for the fray; And in the silent darkness they felt no dismay, And to attack the enemy they marched boldly away. And on they marched bravely without fear or doubt, And about daybreak the challenge of an Afghan sentinel rang out, And echoed from rock to rock on the frosty biting air; But the challenge didn't the British scare. Then the Highlanders attacked them left and right, And oh! it was a gorgeoua and an inspiring sight; For a fierce hand to hand struggle raged for a time, While the pibrochs skirled aloud, oh! the scene was sublime. Then the Ghoorkas did the Afghans fiercely attack, And at every point and turning they were driven back; And a fierce hand to hand struggle raged for a time, While in the morning sunshine the British bayonets did shine. And around the ridge or knoll the battle raged for three hours, And British bullets fell amongst them in showers; For Captain Kelso brought us his mountain battery, And sent his shells right into the camp of the enemy, Then the left of the Afghans was turned, and began to flee. Meanwhile, on the enemy's strong position Lord Roberts launched an attack, And from their position they could hardly be driven back Because the Afghans were hid amongst the woods and hills, Still with undaunted courage, the British blood thrills. And the Afghans pressed the British hotly, but they didn't give way, For the 8th Ghoorkas and the 72nd kept them at bay; And the mountain guns shells upon them did fire, Then the 8th Punjaub, bounding up the heights, made them retire. Then Major White seized a rifle from one of his men and did retire, And levelled the piece fearlessly and did fire; And with a steady and well-timed shot He shot the Afghan leader dead on the spot. Then the British with a wild cheer dashed, at them, And on each side around they did them hem; And at the bayonet charge they drove them down the hill, And in hundreds they did them kill. Then in a confused mass they fled down the opposite side of the hill In hundreds,driven by sheer force sore against their will; And helter-skelter they did run, For all their positions were carried and the victory won. Then on the 8th of August again Lord Roberts' march began For to fight the rebel Ayoob Khan; And with an army about seven thousand strong On his way to Candahar he fearlessly marched along. And the battle that followed at Candahar was a complete victory, And Lord Roberts' march to Candahar stands unrivalled in history; And let's thank God that sent Lord Roberts to conquer Ayoob Khan, For from that time there's been no more war in Afghanistan. Success to Lord Roberts; he's a very brave man, For he conquered the Afghans in Afghanistan, With an army about seven thousand strong, He spread death and desolation all along. William Topaz McGonagall William Topaz McGonagall's other poems: 1415 Views |
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