Gunga Din: an updated version of Kipling’s Barrack Room Ballad
You may talk of gin and beer
When you’re quartered safe out here,
And you’re sent to penny-fights and Aldershot it;
But when it comes to slaughter
You will do your work on water,
And you’ll lick the blooming boots of him that’s got it.
Now in India’s sunny clime,
Where I used to spend my time
A-serving of Her Majesty the Queen,
Of all them blackfaced crew
The finest man I knew
Was our regimental bhisti, Gunga Din.
He was “Din! Din! Din!
You limping lump of brick-dust, Gunga Din!
Hi! slippery hitherao!
Water, get it! Panee lao!
You squidgy-nosed old idol, Gunga Din.”
The uniform he wore
Was nothing much before,
And rather less than half of that behind,
For a piece of twisty rag
And a goatskin water-bag
Was all the field-equipment he could find.
When the sweating troop-train lay
In a siding through the day,
Where the heat would make your blooming eyebrows crawl,
We shouted “Harry By!”
Till our throats were bricky-dry,
Then we whopped him ’cause he couldn’t serve us all.
It was “Din! Din! Din!
You heathen, where the mischief have you been?
You put some juldee in it
Or I’ll marrow you this minute
If you don’t fill up my helmet, Gunga Din!”
He would dot and carry one
Till the longest day was done;
And he didn’t seem to know the use of fear.
If we charged or broke or cut,
You could bet your blooming nut,
He’d be waiting fifty paces right flank rear.
With his mussick on his back,
He would skip with our attack,
And watch us till the bugles made “Retire”,
And for all his dirty hide
He was white, clear white, inside
When he went to tend the wounded under fire!
It was “Din! Din! Din!”
With the bullets kicking dust-spots on the green.
When the cartridges ran out,
You could hear the front-files shout,
“Hi! ammunition-mules and Gunga Din!”
I shan’t forget the night
When I dropped behind the fight
With a bullet where my belt-plate should ha’ been.
I was choking mad with thirst,
And the man that spied me first
Was our good old grinning, grunting Gunga Din.
He lifted up my head,
And he plugged me where I bled,
And he gave me half-a-pint of water-green:
It was crawling and it stunk,
But of all the drinks I’ve drunk,
I’m gratefullest to one from Gunga Din.
It was “Din! Din! Din!
Here’s a beggar with a bullet through his spleen;
He’s chewing up the ground,
And he’s kicking all around:
For God’s sake get the water, Gunga Din!”
He carried me away
To where a dooli lay,
And a bullet come and drilled the beggar clean.
He put me safe inside,
And just before he died,
“I hope you liked your drink”, says Gunga Din.
So I’ll meet him later on
At the place where he is gone–
Where it’s always double drill and no canteen;
He’ll be squatting on the coals
Giving drink to poor damned souls,
And I’ll get a swig in hell from Gunga Din!
Yes, Din! Din! Din!
You Lazarus-ian leather Gunga Din!
Though I’ve belted you and flayed you,
By the living God that made you,
You’re a better man than I am, Gunga Din!
Gunga Din, Rudyard Kipling, 1890 (updated by Jonathan Richardson 2022)
Who was Gunga Din?
In the story-poem Gunga Din the unnamed narrator is a British soldier in the Indian Army recounting a battle in which a regimental water carrier (a bhisti) by the name of Gunga Din saved the narrator’s life at the cost of his own.
This work is notable in that while it’s written from a Londoner’s point of view it is rich with Indian phrases, such as juldee and mussick (haste and water bag). The Kipling Society and Bytes both have an explanation of the Indian terms used along with a full analysis of the poem.
It seems like the narrator got sent to Aldershot in the UK (still home to the British army) after the wounds taken in this story and told his colleagues about the water carrier who saved his life.
Perhaps he tells it with a little guilt for how he treated the lame (“dot and carry one” was a then-common term for limp or lameness) bhisti who got nothing but threats and mistreatment despite his loyalty.
Water carriers were an essential support role in such a hot environment as those India has and the British Army used them in other the heat of the Boer War in South Africa.
Water carriers were also common sights on roads and in villages in the subcontinent.
Damned with faint praise
Gunga Din is certainly well known but is it offensive or not? When I was young at any rate ‘Gunga Din’ would be a catch-all nickname for Indians amongst certain people in 1980s south east England. Or perhaps I misremembered an Only Fools and Horses or got this impression fromreading Cockney Wanker in the Viz comic strips.
On the surface it appears that Kipling’s narrator is praising Gunga Din, particularly in the last verse:
By the living God that made you,
You’re a better man than I am, Gunga Din!
But the preceding words are full of scorn and disrespect for the poor water carrier.
You heathen, where the mischief have you been?
You put some juldee in it
Or I’ll marrow you this minute
If you don’t fill up my helmet, Gunga Din!”
A fair reading to me is that while meant to be praise, it’s “praise but a little bit racist”. You know the kind, the people who say “you’re one of the good ones” or “he’s alright for a [insert some minority here]”.
However one correspondent to the Kipling Society, Richard Rieman, has a different take, that the narrator regrets his ill treatment:
[The narrator] appears to be in a canteen with other soldiers telling about a water porter that he abused with his fellows, and never recognising his unstinting and good natured service to them over a considerable period of time. Finally Gunga Din saves his life, and dies in the process
Gunga Din: the movie!
It’s rare for a modern poem to be adapted into a film — TS Eliot’s Cats and Lewis Carroll’s Jabberwocky perhaps are exceptions (and not the most promising examples).
The 1939 movie stars Cary Grant, Douglas Fairbanks Jnr and Victor McLaglen as British Indian army soldiers, with Russian-Jewish actor Sam Jaffe playing Gunga Din. To be fair to casting, Sabu, who was the most well known Indian actor of the time having played Mowgli in Kipling’s The Jungle Book, had been first choice but was unavailable.
It’s a rip-roaring adventure with the Thugee cult as the main enemy and Gunga Din plays a key role in saving the heroes. Cult members are also the villains in the Pierce Brosnan 1988 vehicle The Deceivers and, more well known, Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom.
Indeed you can see the influence beyond the thugees — the film’s romp and adventure is a key influence in the style, including that of Indiana Jones’ villain.
There were even plans to remake Gunga Din in the 1980s starring Sean Connery, Michael Caine (who did star in another Kipling-inspired film, The Man Who Would be King) and Roger Moore as the soldiers three, with Ben Kingsley as Gunga Din. Kingsley — born Krishna Bhanji — had an Indian father so at least would have a more suitable background than Sam Jaffe.
The film is well worth a watch, particularly if you can track down the colourised version, and apparently The Last Jedi director Rian Johnson showed it to his cast and crew to inspire the tone (though don’t let that put you off).
One thing I’ve not mentioned is that Gunga Din ends with an actor playing Kipling, who in the film is a journalist, reading his newly composed poem’s first verse as tribute to the late, brave water carrier.
Kipling had passed by 1939 and his family objected to his depiction in film so in some versions a crude matte covers up the actor playing Kipling.
Gunga Din: The song!
British Indie Band The Libertines were known for the nostalgic take on British culture and place in the world. Their first gigs and promo work would often feature them in the famous British Army red coats, for instance.
So it’s no surprise that band members Pete Doherty and Carl Barât penned Gunga Din.
It features the Kipling inspired chorus:
Oh, the road is long
If you stay strong
You’re a better man than I
You’ve been beaten and flayed
Probably betrayed
You’re a better man than I
They’ve also been inspired by other Kipling works, including another top track The Man Who Would be King.
Readings of Gunga Din
Gunga Din is a popular choice of poem to be uploaded onto YouTube. Unsurprising when it is one of Kipling’s best known works.
The following version has the most passion and authentic London accent that really carries the poem:
Change notes
This was an interesting one on what to update. While changing the Cockney by adding dropped Hs and other missing letters was one thing, what to do about the Indian words?
My aim has been to balance readability and comprehension with the original spirit as much as possible. In this case I think that changing the Indian loan words and slang would destroy the spirit
How you can contribute
Find out why I’ve updated Rudyard Kipling’s Barrack Room Ballads — and the challenges that has involved. Feel free to:
- comment on your thoughts on my update
- comment your thoughts on the poem or my commentary
- contact me if you want to post about a modern take on Kipling
If you wish to support charities I recommend:
- Show Racism the Red Card — a British anti-racism educational charity
- The Invictus Games Foundation — a charity that uses sport and challenge to inspire, improve and influence the recovery and rehabilitation of wounded, injured and sick servicemen and women
- The Media Trust — helps mentor and develop people in the media from all backgrounds
- The Royal British Legion — UK charity that supports serving and ex-serving personnel
Finally if you do use my revised version of the texts please do cite me.
