The Ballad of Ensign Joy

*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 52559 *** THE BALLAD of ENSIGN JOY By E.W. Hornung E. P. Dutton & Company 1917 THE BALLAD of ENSIGN JOY [Ill 0001] [Ill 0007] [Ill 9011] IS is the story of ````Ensign Joy ````And the obsolete `````rank withal ````That I love for each gentle English `````boy ````Who jumped to his country's `````call. ````By their fire and fun, and the `````deeds they've done, ````I would gazette them Second to `````none ````Who faces a gun in Gaul!) |IT is also the story of Ermyntrude ````A less appropriate name ````For the dearest prig and the `````prettiest prude! ````But under it, all the same, ````The usual consanguineous squad ````Had made her an honest child `````of God-- ````And left her to play the game. |IT was just when the grind of `````the Special Reserves, ````Employed upon Coast Defence, ````Was getting on every Ensign's `````nerves-- ````Sick-keen to be drafted `````hence-- ````That they met and played tennis `````and danced and sang, ````The lad with the laugh and the `````schoolboy slang, ````The girl with the eyes intense. |YET it wasn't for him that she `````languished and sighed, ````But for all of our dear deemed `````youth; ````And it wasn't for her, but her `````sex, that he cried, ````If he could but have probed `````the truth ! ````Did she? She would none of his `````hot young heart; ````As khaki escort he's tall and `````smart, ````As lover a shade uncouth. |HE went with his draft. She `````returned to her craft. ````He wrote in his merry vein: ````She read him aloud, and the ````Studio laughed! ````Ermyntrude bore the strain. ````He was full of gay bloodshed and ````Old Man Fritz: ````His flippancy sent her friends `````into fits. ````Ermyntrude frowned with `````pain. |HIS tales of the Sergeant who `````swore so hard ````Left Ermyntrude cold and `````prim; ````The tactless truth of the picture `````jarred, ````And some of his jokes were `````grim. ````Yet, let him but skate upon `````tender ice, ````And he had to write to her twice `````or thrice ````Before she would answer him. |YET once she sent him a `````fairy's box, ````And her pocket felt the brunt ````Of tinned contraptions and `````books and socks-- ````Which he hailed as "a sporting `````stunt!" ````She slaved at his muffler none `````the less, ````And still took pleasure in mur- `````muring, "Yes! ````For a friend of mine at the ````Front.") |ONE fine morning his name `````appears-- ````Looking so pretty in print! ````"Wounded!" she warbles in `````tragedy tears-- ````And pictures the reddening `````lint, ````The drawn damp face and the `````draggled hair . . . ````But she found him blooming in ````Grosvenor Square, ````With a punctured shin in a `````splint. |IT wasn't a haunt of Ermyn- `````trude's, ````That grandiose urban pile; ````Like starlight in arctic altitudes ````Was the stately Sister's smile. ````It was just the reverse with ````Ensign Joy-- ````In his golden greeting no least `````alloy-- ````In his shining eyes no guile! |HE showed her the bullet that `````did the trick-- ````He showed her the trick, `````x-ray'd; ````He showed her a table timed to `````a tick, ````And a map that an airman `````made. ````He spoke of a shell that caused grievous loss-- ````But he never mentioned a certain `````cross ````For his part in the escapade! |SHE saw it herself in a list next `````day, ````And it brought her back to his `````bed, ````With a number of beautiful `````things to say, ````Which were mostly over his `````head. ````Turned pink as his own pyjamas' `````stripe, ````To her mind he ceased to em- `````body a type-- ````Sank into her heart instead. |I WONDER that all of you `````didn't retire!" ````"My blighters were not that `````kind." ````"But it says _you_ 'advanced un- `````der murderous fire, ````Machine-gun and shell com- `````bined--'" ````"Oh, that's the regular War ````Office wheeze!" ````"'Advanced'--with that leg!-- `````'on his hands and knees'!" ````"I couldn't leave it behind." |HE was soon trick-driving an `````invalid chair, `````and dancing about on a crutch; ````The _haute noblesse_ of Grosvenor ````Square ````Felt bound to oblige as such; ````They sent him for many a motor- `````whirl-- ````With the wistful, willowy wisp of `````a girl ````Who never again lost touch. |THEIR people were most of `````them dead and gone. ````They had only themselves to ````His pay was enough to marry `````upon, ````As every Ensign sees. ````They would muddle along (as `````in fact they did) ````With vast supplies of the _tertium `````quid_ ````You bracket with bread-and- `````cheese. `````please. |THEY gave him some leave `````after Grosvenor Square-- ````And bang went a month on `````banns; ````For Ermyntrude had a natural `````_flair_ ````For the least unusual plans. ````Her heaviest uncle came down `````well, ````And entertained, at a fair hotel, ````The dregs of the coupled clans. |A CERTAIN number of `````cheques accrued ````To keep the wolf from the `````door: ````The economical Ermyntrude ````Had charge of the dwindling `````store, ````When a Board reported her `````bridegroom fit ````As--some expression she didn't `````permit . . . ````And he left for the Front once `````more. |HIS crowd had been climbing `````the jaws of hell: ````He found them in death's dog- `````teeth, ````With little to show but a good `````deal to tell ````In their fissure of smoking `````heath. ````There were changes--of course `````--but the change in him ````Was the ribbon that showed on `````his tunic trim ````And the tumult hidden be- `````neath! |FOR all he had suffered and `````seen before ````Seemed nought to a husband's `````care; ````And the Chinese puzzle of mod- `````ern war ````For subtlety couldn't compare ````With the delicate springs of the `````complex life ````To be led with a highly sensitised `````wife ````In a slightly rarefied air! |YET it's good to be back with `````the old platoon-- ````"A man in a world of men"! ````Each cheery dog is a henchman `````boon-- ````Especially Sergeant Wren! ````Ermyntrude couldn't endure his `````name-- ````Considered bad language no lien `````on fame, ````Yet it's good to--hear it `````again! |BETTER to feel the Ser- `````geant's grip, ````Though your fingers ache to `````the bone! ````Better to take the Sergeant's tip ````Than to make up your mind `````alone. ````They can do things together, can ````Wren and Joy-- ````The bristly bear and the beard- `````less boy-- ````That neither could do on his `````own. |BUT there's never a word `````about Old Man Wren ````In the screeds he scribbles `````to-day-- ````Though he praises his N.C.O.'s `````and men ````In rather a pointed way. ````And he rubs it in (with a knitted `````brow) ````That the war's as good as a pic- `````nic now, ````And better than any play! |HIS booby-hutch is "as safe `````as the Throne," ````And he fares "like the C.-in- ````Chief," ````But has purchased "a top-hole `````gramophone ````By way of comic relief." ````(And he sighs as he hears the `````men applaud, ````While the Woodbine spices are `````wafted abroad ````With the odour of bully-beef.) |HE may touch on the latest `````type of bomb, ````But Ermyntrude needn't `````blench, ````For he never says where you hurl `````it from, ````And it might be from your `````trench. ````He never might lead a stealthy `````band, ````Or toe the horrors of No Man's ````Land, ````Or swim at the sickly stench. . . . |HER letters came up by `````ration-cart ````As the men stood-to before `````dawn: ````He followed the chart of her `````soaring heart ````With face transfigured yet `````drawn: ````It filled him with pride, touched `````with chivalrous shame. ````But--it spoilt the war, as a first- `````class game, ````For this particular pawn. |THE Sergeant sees it, and `````damns the cause ````In a truly terrible flow; ````But turns and trounces, without `````a pause, ````A junior N. C. O. ````For the crime of agreeing that ````Ensign Joy ````Isn't altogether the officer boy ````That he was four months ago! |AT length he's dumfounded `````(the month being May) ````By a sample of Ermyntrude's `````fun! ````"You will kindly get leave _over ````Christmas Day_, ````Or make haste and finish the ````But Christmas means presents, `````she bids him beware: ````"So what do you say to a son and `````heir? ````I'm thinking of giving you ````Hun!" |WHAT, indeed, does the ````Ensign say? ````What does he sit and write? ````What do his heart-strings drone all day? ````What do they throb all night? ````What does he add to his piteous `````prayers?-- ````"Not for my own sake, Lord, but `````--_theirs_, ````See me safe through ..." |THEY talk--and he writhes `````--"of our spirit out here, ````Our valour and all the rest! ````There's my poor, lonely, delicate `````dear, ````As brave as the very best! ````We stand or fall in a cheery `````crowd, ````And yet how often we grouse `````aloud! ````She faces _that_ with a jest!" |HE has had no sleep for a day `````and a night; ````He has written her half a `````ream; ````He has Iain him down to wait for `````the light, ````And at last come sleep--and a `````dream. ````He's hopping on sticks up the `````studio stair: ````A telegraph-boy is waiting there, ````And--that is his darling's `````scream! |HE picks her up in a tender `````storm-- ````But how does it come to pass ````That he cannot see his reflected `````form ````With hers in the studio glass? ````"What's wrong with that mir- `````ror?"' he cries. ````But only the Sergeant's voice `````replies: ````"Wake up, Sir! The Gas-- `````the Gas!" |IS it a part of the dream of `````dread? ````What are the men about? ````Each one sticking a haunted `````head ````Into a spectral clout! ````Funny, the dearth of gibe and `````joke, ````When each one looks like a pig `````in a poke, ````Not omitting the snout! |THERE'S your mask, Sir! No `````time to lose!" ````Ugh, what a gallows shape! ````Partly white cap, and partly `````noose! ````Somebody ties the tape. ````Goggles of sorts, it seems, inset: ````Cock them over the parapet, ````Study the battlescape. |ENSIGN JOY'S in the second `````line-- ````And more than a bit cut off; ````A furlong or so down a green `````incline ````The fire-trench curls in the `````trough. ````Joy cannot see it--it's in the bed ````Of a river of poison that brims `````instead. ````He can only hear--a cough! |NOTHING to do for the ````Companies there-- ````Nothing but waiting now, ````While the Gas rolls up on the `````balmy air, ````And a small bird cheeps on a `````bough. ````All of a sudden the sky seems full ````Of trusses of lighted cotton-wool ````And the enemy's big bow- `````wow! |THE firmament cracks with `````his airy mines, ````And an interlacing hail ````Threshes the clover between our `````lines, ````As a vile invisible flail. ````And the trench has become a `````mighty vice ````That holds us, in skins of molten `````ice, ````For the vapors that fringe the `````veil. |IT'S coming--in billowy swirls `````--as smoke ````From the roof a world on fire. ````It--comes! And a lad with a `````heart of oak ````Knows only that heart's de- `````sire! ````His masked lips whimper but one `````dear name-- ````And so is he lost to inward shame ````That he thrills at the word: ````"_Re-tire!_" |WHOSE is the order, thrice `````renewed? ````Ensign Joy cannot tell : ````Only, that way lies Ermyntrude, ````And the other way this hell! ````Three men leap from the pois- `````oned fosse, ````Three men plunge from the para- `````dos, ````And--their--officer--as well! |NOW, as he flies at their fly- `````ing heels, ````He awakes to his deep dis- `````grace, ````But the yawning pit of his shame `````reveals ````A way of saving his face: ````He twirls his stick to a shep- `````herd's crook, ````To trip and bring one of them `````back to book, ````As though he'd been giving `````chase! |HE got back gasping-- ````"They'd too much start!" ````"I'd've shot 'em instead!" `````said Wren. ````"That was your job, Sir, if you'd `````the 'eart-- ````But it wouldn't 've been you, `````then. ````I pray my Lord I may live to see ````A firing-party in front o' them `````three!" ````(That's what he said to the `````men.) |NOW, Joy and Wren, of `````Company B, ````Are a favourite firm of mine; ````And the way they reinforced A, ````C, and D ````Was, perhaps, not unduly fine; ````But it meant a good deal both to ````Wren and Joy-- ````That grim, gaunt man, but that `````desperate boy!-- ````And it didn't weaken the Line. |NOT a bad effort of yours, `````my lad," ````The Major deigned to declare. ````"My Sergeant's plan, Sir"-- ````"And that's not bad-- ````But you've lost that ribbon `````you wear?" ````"It--must have been eaten away `````by the Gas!" ````"Well--ribbons are ribbons-- `````but don't be an ass! ````It's better to do than dare." |DARE! He has dared to de- `````sert his post-- ````But he daren't acknowledge `````his sin! ````He has dared to face Wren with `````a lying boast-- ````But Wren is not taken in. ````None sings his praises so long `````and loud-- ````With look so loving and loyal `````and proud! ````But the boy sees under his `````skin. |DAILY and gaily he wrote to `````his wife, ````Who had dropped the beati- `````fied droll ````And was writing to him on the ````Meaning of Life ````And the Bonds between Body `````and Soul. ````Her courage was high--though `````she mentioned its height; ````She was putting upon her the ````Armour of Light-- ````Including her aureole! |BUT never a helm had the lad `````we know, ````As he went on his nightly raids ````With a brace of his Blighters, an ````N. G O. ````And a bagful of hand-grenades ````And the way he rattled and `````harried the Hun-- ````The deeds he did dare, and the `````risks he would run-- ````Were the gossip of the Bri- `````gades. |HOW he'd stand stockstill as `````the trunk of a tree, ````With his face tucked down `````out of sight, ````When a flare went up and the `````other three ````Fell prone in the frightening `````light. ````How the German sandbags, that `````made them quake, ````Were the only cover he cared to `````take, ````But he'd eavesdrop there all `````night. |MACHINE-GUNS, tapping `````a phrase in Morse, ````Grew hot on a random quest, ````And swarms of bullets buzzed `````down the course ````Like wasps from a trampled `````nest. ````Yet, that last night! ````They had just set off ````When he pitched on his face with `````a smothered cough, ````And a row of holes in his chest. |HE left a letter. It saved `````the lives ````Of the three who ran from the ````Gas; ````A small enclosure alone survives, ````In Middlesex, under glass: ````Only the ribbon that left his `````breast ````On the day he turned and ran `````with the rest, ````And lied with a lip of brass! |BUT the letters they wrote `````about the boy, ````From the Brigadier to the `````men! ````They would never forget dear ````Mr. Joy, ````Not look on his like again. ````Ermyntrude read them with dry, `````proud eye. ````There was only one letter that `````made her cry. ````It was from Sergeant Wren: |THERE never was such a fear- `````less man, ````Or one so beloved as he. ````He was always up to some daring `````plan, ````Or some treat for his men and `````me. ````There wasn't his match when he `````went away; ````But since he got back, there has `````not been a day ````But what he has earned a ````V. C |A CYNICAL story? That's `````not my view. ````The years since he fell are `````twain. ````What were his chances of coming `````through? ````Which of his friends remain? ````But Ermyntrude's training a `````splendid boy ````Twenty years younger than En- `````sign Joy. ````On balance, a British gain! |AND Ermyntrude, did she `````lose her all ````Or find it, two years ago? ````O young girl-wives of the boys `````who fall, ````With your youth and your `````babes to show! ````No heart but bleeds for your `````widowhood. ````Yet Life is with you, and Life is `````good. ````No bone of _your_ bone lies low! |YOUR blessedness came--as `````it went--in a day. ````Deep dread but heightened `````your mirth. ````Your idols' feet never turned to `````clay-- ````Never lit upon common earth. ````Love is the Game but is _not_ the ````Goal: ````You played it together, body and `````soul, ````And you had your Candle's `````worth. |YES! though the Candle light `````a Shrine, ````And heart cannot count the `````cost, ````You are Winners yet in its tender `````shine! ````Would _they_ choose to have `````lived and lost? ````There are chills, you see, for the `````finest hearts; ````But, once it is only old Death `````that parts, ````There can never come twinge `````of frost. |AND this be our comfort for ````Every Boy ````Cut down in his high heyday, ````Or ever the Sweets of the Morn- `````ing cloy, ````Or the Green Leaf wither `````away; ````So a sunlit billow curls to a crest, ````And shouts as it breaks at its `````loveliest, ````In a glory of rainbow spray! |BE it also the making of ````Ermyntrude, ````And many a hundred more-- ````Compact of foibles and forti- `````tude-- ````Woo'd, won, and widow'd, in ````War. ````God, keep us gallant and unde- `````filed, ````Worthy of Husband, Lover, or `````--Child... ````Sweet as themselves at the `````core! End of Project Gutenberg's The Ballad of Ensign Joy, by E.W. Hornung *** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 52559 ***