| The Blin' Hunder - J Mair
Half a league, half a league, half a league onward,
On to the Scrabster Road,
Marched the Blin' Hunder,
Past the stately B. L.,
Past the stormy Rockwell,
Past the Kitchen of Hell,
Marched the Blin' Hunder.
Fathers and sons were there,
Duffers and dons were there,
Veterans of Mons were there,
Staggering Onwards;
Christian and atheist,
Wee Free, Salvationist,
Tory and Communist,
Lo! The Blin' Hunder.
Army regalia;
Paraphernalia,
Stripes inter alia,
Scorn the Blin' Hunder,
Gumboots and dongarees,
Plus fours gone at the knees,
Any old clouts they please,
Borrowed or plundered.
See now the gallant band
On Scrabster take their stand,
Waiting the Chief's command
Sounding like thunder,
"Charge for the braes," he said,
While horse and heifer fled,
Eastward from Holborn Head
Charged the Blin' Hunder.
Flagstones to the right of them,
Flagstones to the left of them,
Flagstones in front of them -
Onward they floundered;
Boldly they strode and well
While corns and bunions swell,
And aching joints rebel
Noble Blin' Hunder!
When shall their glory fade?
O' the wild charge they made!
Who fears the Nazi raid?
Not the Blin' Hunder;
Should Nazis set their feet
On Caithness flag or peat,
Heaven help them when they meet
Thursa's Blin' Hunder. |
