At Sergeants 3, over the Thanksgiving holidays, we were getting together some lost and unpublished rules of Dad's as we work towards our publishing schedule for 2016. We found this very interesting email thread from 1999 between Dad and David Helber, aka the Major General. It's a wonderful read and was very special to Dad. It originally appeared on the Colonial Wars Yahoo group.
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Walt writes:
>
>A passalong from another list. If you've seen it before, I apologize.
>
>********************************************************
>Advice to a British Lead Soldier
>by Flashdout Kasting
>
>If yer painted with oils and washed with a brush,
…and so forth
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Full circle, eh, chaps?
Actually the poem had its world premiere on this very list on July 16,
1999. We had been creating pictures of our "colonial alter-egos", and I
modified my Mobil employee photo for a Victorian look. Larry Brom fancied
he saw a resemblance to Kipling in the photo and wrote a comic post. I had
been working with Larry on the graphics for TSATF/20 and replied, as
Kipling, with a poem in his honor.
When I finish up converting the current Kipling page to a more general
"Victorian Martial Verse and Song" section, I'll add the poem under "David
Helber's Faux-Victorian Doggerel".
Here is the text of the original message:
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Message 5037
From: David Helber <majrgen1@…
Date: Fri Jul 16, 1999 8:37 pm
Subject: Re: selfportrait
Larry Brom <loribrom@i…> wrote
>Dear Mr. Kipling;
>
>You look just as you did in "Gunga Din".
>
>I love your writing – particularly your Barrack Room Ballads.
>
>Please keep up the good work.
>
>Sincerely, a long time admirer, Larry Brom…
>
It is indeed an honour to hear from the accomplished Mr. Brom. As it
happens, I have a new work which I would like to dedicate to you. I hope
you will have no objection. It goes as follows:
ADVICE TO A BRITISH LEAD SOLDIER
L'Envoi to Sand-table Sonatas
by Flashdout Kasting
Dedicated To LVB
If yer shaded with oils and washed with a brush,
If yer de-tail's all crisp and yer parting-line's flush,
Remember it don't mean a tittle or tush
To the Man Who Writes The Rules
If yer coat's painted red when it ought to be blue
An yer 'at's an off-color, yer skin's a sick hue
It don't matter a bit 'ow some fool painted you
For you lives an you dies by the Rules.
If yer paint is all chinky from years o' hard use
An yer bayonet's gone an one arm's hangin loose,
Yer as good as the next 'un an' just as much use,
To The Man Who Writes The Rules.
Oh he knows all the hist'ry, he thinks an' he reads,
And what 'e don't know 'e can fake if he needs,
'E can tell you the pace of men, camels or steeds,
An' the 2D morale o' the mules.
He's a Solomon wise with a sceptre an' crown
He's historian, mathematician and clown,
An he don't care a whit (which is good!) for renown.
He's The Man Who Writes The Rules.
If yer lined with a marker, or lined with a pen
Painted double-ought sable or camel-hair ten,
It's one an' the same when the dice roll again
For you lives an' you dies by the Rules.
If yer base is magnetic, or coinage or card,
If yer pose is high port, or reloading, or guard,
If yer bought by the casting or bought by the yard,
It don't mean a toss if yer plastic or hard
To The Man Who Writes The Rules.
On styrofoam hill or vermiculite plain
When the tape-measures whirr and the dice roll again,
An' the pizza-smell's thick, so's to rattle yer brain,
It's the Rules that permit, an' the Rules that restrain,
And you lives an you dies by the Rules.
For the painter's a grind and the gamer's a plod;
The collector, 'es just an obsessive old sod,
But I tell you, 'es bloody well near to a God
Is The Man Who Writes The Rules.
Oh the rules they are fresh, or the rules they are stale,
An' they favour the dusky or favour the pale,
An' they're overly broad or 'ave too much detail,
An' they don't know the difference 'twixt Congreve and Hale,
And they finish too quick or they plod on too long,
An' they figure the spears or machine-guns too strong,
An' their cavalry movement is simply all wrong
But when the dice sing o' their rattley song
It's all just the prattle of fools
For you lives and you dies
Mind, you lives and you dies
Yes, you lives and you dies
By the Rules.
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I immediately had a number of requests to reprint, and agreed, asking that
I be given credit, but as often happens, the credit gets lost as the item
gets recopied and passed along. Well, it's enough to have done it. It still
tickles me.
-- David
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Major General Tremorden Rederring's Colonial-Era Wargames Page
zeitcom.com/majgen
paints piebald and skewbald horses.
