One of his Exceedngly Good Poems

Some teachers acquire a fearsome reputation amongst their pupils that is quite out of proportion to their physical stature. Miss Forsey was a good example and looking back I think that she was well aware of this and cultivated and enjoyed this reputation. For all that, I do remember with fondness some Friday afternoon lessons she gave us on ancient history. I think that this subject must have been a personal interest of hers as she taught us with knowledge and enthusiasm, and when I actually got to see the reconstruction of Babylon’s Ishtar Gate in the Pergamon Museum in Berlin a few years ago, I immediately remembered Miss Forsey showing us a picture of it back in the baking hot summer of 1976.

I thought of Miss Forsey again today. My final addition to my Boer War Queen Victoria chocolate tin collection, the tin produced by Joseph Fry and Sons, arrived today, and I couldn’t help thinking of Rudyard Kipling’s poem “Tommy”. If you haven’t read it, it goes like this:-

TOMMY.’

I went into a public-’ouse to get a pint o’ beer,

The publican ’e up an’ sez, ‘We serve no red-coats here.’

The girls be’ind the bar they laughed an’ giggled fit to die,

I outs into the street again an’ to myself sez I:

O it’s Tommy this, an’ Tommy that, an’ ‘Tommy go away’:

But it’s ‘Thank you, Mister Atkins,’ when the band begins to play,

The band begins to play, my boys, the band begins to play,

O it’s ‘Thank you, Mister Atkins,’ when the band begins to play.

 

I went into a theatre as sober as could be,

They give a drunk civilian room, but ’adn’t none for me;

They sent me to the gallery or round the music ’alls,

But when it comes to fightin’, Lord! they’ll shove me in the stalls.

For it’s Tommy this, an’ Tommy that, an’ ‘Tommy wait outside."

But it’s ‘Special train for Atkins’ when the trooper’s on the tide,

The troopship’s on the tide, my boys, the troopship’s on the tide.

 But it’s ‘Special train for Atkins’ when the trooper’s on the tide,

 

O makin’ mock o’ uniforms that guard you while you sleep

Is cheaper than them uniforms, an’ they’re starvation cheap;

An’ hustlin’ drunken sodgers when they’re goin’ large a bit

Is five times better business than paradin’ in full kit.

Then it’s Tommy this, an’ Tommy that, an’ ‘Tommy, ’ow’s yer soul?’

But it’s ‘Thin red line of ’eroes’ when the drums begin to roll,

The drums begin to roll, my boys, the drums begin to roll.

It’s ‘Thin red line of ’eroes’ when the drums begin to roll,

 

We aren’t no thin red ’eroes, nor we aren’t no black-guards too,

But single men in barricks, most remarkable like you;

An’ if sometimes our conduck isn’t all your fancy paints;

Why, single men in barricks don’t grow into plaster saints.

While it’s Tommy this, an’ Tommy that, an’ ‘Tommy fall be’ind’;

But it’s ‘Please to walk in front, sir,’ when there’s trouble in the wind,

There’s trouble in the wind, my boys, there’s trouble in the wind.

It’s ‘Please to walk in front, sir,’ when there’s trouble in the wind.

 

You talk o’ better food for us, an’ schools, an’ fires, an’ all;

We’ll wait for extry rations if you treat us rational.

Don’t mess about the cook-room slops, but prove it to our face

The Widow’s uniform is not the soldier-man’s disgrace.

For it’s Tommy this, an’ Tommy that, an’ ‘Chuck him out, the brute!’

But it’s ‘Saviour of ’is country’ when the guns begin to shoot;

An’ it’s Tommy this, an’ Tommy that, an’ everything you please;

An’ Tommy ain’t a bloomin’ fool — you bet that Tommy sees!

 

RUDYARD KIPLING.

I was introduced to this 1890 poem from the “Barrack Room Ballads” by the best Local Education Advisor for English that I ever met, when he suggested it as a poem to study alongside the hardy perennials like ‘Dulce et Decorum Est’ and ‘The Soldier’. And it was while I was thinking about this poem that it suddenly occurred to me who it was who had first told me all about the nickname, Tommy Atkins. It was Miss Forsey.

I can’t remember the exact context after all these years, but Miss Forsey had asked the question – does anyone know what occupation you have if you’re a Tommy? – The answer, it appeared, was no. So she gave us a clue – It’s something to do with war.’ – A range of strange guesses followed, none of them right and I guess that maybe the right answer – soldier – was just too obvious. Miss Forsey went on to inform us that the nickname had come about because it was the sample name printed in the Army pay book.

Well, we like simple and straightforward explanations, don’t we? To be fair, from what I have read there is a lot of truth in this one. It seems that in The Soldier’s Account Book of 1815, every example form for the infantry had the example signature – Tommy Atkins – His mark -X. The explanation for that name is that I suppose it has a kind of Everyman quality to it. However, it seems as if the choice of name wasn’t quite as random as all that. For there is documentary evidence dating back to the middle of the 18^th century that Tommy Atkins was already being used as a generic term for British soldiers.

Here’s a wee footnote. According to Professor Richard Holmes’ excellent 2005 book ‘Tommy’, in the Soldier’s Account Book of 1815 they used a different sample signature for cavalrymen's forms which was, I kid you not, Sergeant John Thomas. I kid you not, Imagine if his signature had been used for the common or garden infantryman. I will be honest, I have real difficulty imagining Miss Forsey asking us in class what a John Thomas did for a living.