This next song comes from one of the first poems in the English language that recognized that a man of color could be as brave and dedicated as a white man and was written by a young English lieutenant named Rudyard Kipling about an orphan water boy that was adopted by his regiment and followed them around with extra water. I changed the setting from jungles of India to the jungles of Vietnam. Picture if you will a campfire with the old Sgt. telling the young troops about what it’s really like in combat. I’d like to dedicate this song to all the first responders out there and medics whatever branch of service you were in especially two friends of mine; David Watson, who served as a Navy Corpsman with a Marine Rifle Company in Vietnam, now a pharmacist in Abilene who has recently lost a kidney to agent orange and they still won’t give him 100% disability and Command Sgt. Major Jim Hendrix an Airborne Ranger Army combat medic with two tours in Vietnam.

You can talk of gin and beer
When you’re quartered safe out here
And your sent to penny fights and pentagon it
But when it comes to slaughter
You’ll do your work on water
And you’ll lick the bloomin’ boots of him that’s got it

In Vietnam’s sunny clime
Where I used to spend my time
A servant of his majesty the king, LBJ
Of all that black faced crew
The finest man I knew
Was our regimental beastie Gunga Din

And, It was Din Din Din
Oh, Din where have you been?
You limpin’ lump of brick dust Gunga Din
Water get it beau-coup all
Water get it beau-coup all
Then we’d whop him ‘cause he couldn’t serve us all

The uniform he wore was nothing much before
And rather less than half of that behind
Cause a twisted piece of rag
And a goat skin water bag
Was the only field equipment he could find

He would march and carry on
Till the longest day was done
Never seem to know the use of fear
And for all his dirty hide
He was white clean white inside
When he went to tend the wounded under fire

And it was Din Din Din
Oh, Din where have you been
With bullets kickin’ dust spots cross the field
No thought of fear or doubt
He would low crawl soldiers out
And never to the danger did he yield

I won’t forget the night when I fell behind the fight
A bullet where my flak jack should have been
I was chokin’ mad with thirst
And the man that spied me first
Was good ole grinnin’ gruntin’ Gunga Din

Well he lifted up my head
Plugged me where I bled
Give me half a pint of water green
It was crawling and it stunk
But of all the drinks I’ve drunk
I’m most grateful to that one
From Gunga Din

Well he carried me away to where a dust off lay
And a bullet come and drilled that beggar clean
He put me safe inside
Just before he died
I hope you liked your drink said Gunga Din

Oh, I’ll meet him later on
In a place where he has gone
Where it’s always double time and no canteen
He’ll be sittin’ on them coals
Givin’ drinks to poor damned souls
And I’ll get a swig in Hell from Gunga Din

Then it was, Din Din Din
Oh Din where have you been
You limpin’ lump of brick dust Gunga Din
Oh, I mocked ya and I flayed ya
By the livin’ God that made ya
You’re a better man than I am Gunga Din
Yeah, you’re a better man than I am Gunga Din
Raise your canteens men
“To Gunga Din