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    On Patrol
    On Patrol
    On Patrol
    Ebook156 pages55 minutes

    On Patrol

    By John Graham Bower

    ()

    Read preview
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherArchive Classics
    Release dateNov 25, 2013
    On Patrol

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      Book preview

      On Patrol - John Graham Bower

      The Project Gutenberg EBook of On Patrol, by John Graham Bower and Klaxon

      This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with

      almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or

      re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included

      with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org

      Title: On Patrol

      Author: John Graham Bower

              Klaxon

      Release Date: January 29, 2013 [EBook #41944]

      Language: English

      *** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ON PATROL ***

      Produced by sp1nd, Mary Akers and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive)

      Transcriber's note:

      Minor spelling and punctuation inconsistencies, mainly quotes that had not been closed, have been harmonized. Missing page numbers are page numbers that were not shown in the original text.

      ON PATROL

      On Patrol

      BY

      KLAXON

      AUTHOR OF 'H. M. S. ——'

      William Blackwood and Sons

      Edinburgh and London

      1919

      TO

      D. V. B.

      THEY watch us leaving harbour for the greatest game of all,

      And wonder if we're coming back across the greedy sea;

      They never know the fighting thrill or high adventure's call—

      I rather think the women folk are better men than we.

      But I suspect they say of us as out to sea we go,

      In all our panoply of pride from Orkney to the Nore:

      "It keeps them quiet, we suppose—they like the work, we know—

      And soon perhaps they'll tire and play some safer game than War."

      CONTENTS.

      TO——

      TO——.

      HE went to sea on the long patrol,

      Away to the East from the Corton Shoal,

      But now he's overdue.

      He signalled me as he bore away

      (A flickering lamp through leaping spray,

      And darkness then till judgment day),

      So long! Good luck to you!

      He's waiting out on the long patrol,

      Till the names are called at the muster-roll

      Of seamen overdue.

      Far above him, in wind and rain,

      Another is on patrol again—

      The gap is closed in the Naval Chain

      Where all the links are new.

      Over his head the seas are white,

      And the wind is blowing a gale to-night,

      As if the Storm-King knew,

      And roared a ballad of sleet and snow

      To the man that lies on the sand below,

      A trumpet-song for the winds to blow

      To seamen overdue.

      Was it sudden or slow—the death that came?

      Roaring water or sheets of flame?

      The end with none to view?

      No man can tell us the way he died,

      But over the clouds Valkyries ride

      To open the gates and hold them wide

      For seamen overdue.

      But whether the end was swift or slow,

      By the Hand of God, or a German blow,

      My messmate overdue—

      You went to Death—and the whisper ran

      As over the Gates the horns began,

      Splendour of God! We have found a man—

      Good-bye! Good luck to you!

      OLD WOMEN

      OLD WOMEN.

      FAINT against the twilight, dim against the evening,

      Fading into darkness against the lapping sea,

      She sailed away from harbour, from safety into danger,

      The ship that took him from me—my sailor boy from me.

      He went away to join her, from me that loved and bore him,

      Loved him ere I bore him, that was all the world to me.

      "No time for leave, mother, must be back this evening,

      Time for our patrol again, across the winter sea."

      Six times over, since he went to join her,

      Came he to see me, to run back again.

      "Four hours' leave, mother—still got the steam up,

      Going on patrol to-night—the old East lane."

      "Seven times lucky, and perhaps we'll have a battle,

      Then I'll bring a medal back and give it you to keep."

      And his name is in the paper, with

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