Rudyard Kipling

«Barrack-Room Ballads». 55. Wilful-Missing. Deserters of the Boer War

There is a world outside the one you know,
⁠     To which for curiousness 'Ell can't compare—
It is the place where "wilful-missings" go,
     ⁠As we can testify, for we are there.

You may 'ave read a bullet laid us low,
⁠     ⁠That we was gathered in "with reverent care"
And buried proper. But it was not so,
⁠⁠     As we can testify, for we are there.

They can't be certain—faces alter so
⁠⁠     After the old aasvogel 's 'ad 'is share;
The uniform's the mark by which they go—
⁠⁠     And—ain't it odd?—the one we best can spare.

We might 'ave seen our chance to cut the show—
⁠⁠     Name, number, record, an' begin elsewhere—
Leavin' some not too late-lamented foe
⁠     ⁠One funeral—private—British—for 'is share.

We may 'ave took it yonder in the Low
⁠⁠     Bush-veldt that sends men stragglin' unaware
Among the Kaffirs, till their columns go,
⁠⁠     An' they are left past call or count or care.

We might 'ave been your lovers long ago,
⁠⁠     'Usbands or children—comfort or despair.
Our death (an' burial) settles all we owe,
⁠⁠     An' why we done it is our own affair.

Marry again, and we will not say no,
⁠⁠     Nor come to bastardise the kids you bear;
Wait on in 'ope—you've all your life below
⁠⁠     Before you'll ever 'ear us on the stair.

There is no need to give our reasons, though
⁠⁠     Gawd knows we all 'ad reasons which were fair;
But other people might not judge 'em so,
⁠⁠     And now it doesn't matter what they were.

What man can size or weigh another's woe?
⁠⁠     There are some things too bitter 'ard to bear.
Suffice it we 'ave finished—Domino!
⁠⁠     As we can testify, for we are there,
In the side-world where "wilful-missings" go.