The
inter-regimental polo tournament is the great event
of the year for all regiments in India, and on one
occasion it was held at Meerut while my regiment was
stationed there. All the teams visiting the place for
the occasion naturally made use of our mess, and we
formed a very large and happy family. On the night
after the final tie had been decided, we had a grand
dinner to signalise the event. The health of the
winning team was drunk collectively and individually
with all honours, and each member of it in turn
tendered his thanks to the assembled company. Then
the winning team proposed the health of the losers,
and they naturally returned their thanks in a similar
way, and proceeded to propose the toast of the
runners-up, and so it went on during the greater part
of the evening until every team in the place had had
its health proposed, and speeches had been made
without number, all harping on the one topic of polo.
When
all was over and a sigh of relief was going round,
there suddenly sprang to his feet one of the members
of the 4th Hussars’ team, who said: "Now,
gentleman, you would probably like to hear me address
you on the subject of polo!" It was Mr. Winston
Churchill. Naturally there were cries of: "No,
we don’t! Sit down!" and so on, but disregarding
all their objections, with a genial smile he
proceeded to discourse on the subject, and before
long all opposition dropped as his honeyed words
flowed upon their ears, and in a short time he was
hard at it expounding the beauties and the
possibilities of this wonderful game. He proceeded to
show how it was not merely the finest game in the
world but the most noble and soul-inspiring contest
in the whole universe, and having made his point he
wound up with a peroration which brought us all
cheering to our feet.
When
the cheering and applause had died down one in
authority arose and gave voice to the feelings of all
when he said: "Well, that is enough of Winston
for this evening," and the orator was taken in
hand by some lusty subalterns and placed underneath
an overturned sofa upon which two of the heaviest
were then seated, with orders not to allow him out
for the rest of the evening. But very soon afterwards
he appeared emerging from beneath the angle of the
arm of the sofa, explaining: "It is no use
sitting upon me, for I’m india-rubber," and he
popped up serenely and took his place once more in
the world and the amusement that was going on around
him. I have often remembered the incident on
occasions since then when in politics or elsewhere he
has given proof of his statement.
Other
incidents followed on that cheerful evening, such as
polo pony races over jumps made up of furniture round
the billiard room, and a musical ride on camels in
the ante-room, but none of them made such an
impression on my memory as did the first great speech
of the future First Lord.
From
Baden-Powell, Indian Memories, Chapter III:
The Sport of Kings and the King of Sports (1915,
revised, 1924)
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"B.-P."
from Great Contemporaries by Sir Winston
S. Churchill. Perhaps one of the
finest portraits of the significance of the life
and work of Sir Robert Baden-Powell. |
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From: Baden-Powell,
Memories of India, 1915. |
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Forward
by Sir Robert Baden-Powell |
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Chapter
VIII. When the Tribes are Out. The
Afghan War—The Great March—Ordered up
to Kandahar—A Warlike Atmosphere—The
Expedition of I842—The Camel and His
Ways—Kandahar—A Dangerous
City—Theatricals Under Difficulties—A
Serious Mistake—Afghan Nerve—Attacked
by Ghazis —The Crack of Doom—The Field
of Maiwand—A Broken Square—A Heroic
Chaplain—A Narrow Escape |
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Chapter
IX. The Aftermath of War. The
Image of War—Patrols and Picnics A Curious
Superstition—Jock Fights a Wild
Cat—Afghan Depredations—Relics of
Alexander the Great—Camp Rumours
—Abdurrahman Waits—The Horses
Stampede—A Subaltern’s Opinion of the
Government—A Study in Contrasts—Rifle
Stealing—An Ingenious Plan—Further
Losses—I Shoot Myself—I Hear my Death
Announced —Digging for the
Bullet—Convalescence—Stalked by a
Leopard—A Rough and Tumble |
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Chapter
XI. Tiger, Tiger, Burning Bright. A
Possible Interrogation—I Go in Pursuit of
Tigers— Smith-Dorrien at Work—The Party
Meets—The Old Hands—A Native
Weakness—How to Beat for Tigers— A Dead
Enemy—A Native Village—Nearly a
Fatality— Camp Literature—I Become
Doctor—I Get a Bear— Camp Life—A
Tiger’s Wings—The Mahout—The Tables
Turned—Table Delicacies—Jungle
Yachts— The End of the Ghost |
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Chapter
XII. A Frontier Row. The
Value of the North-West Frontier—Village
Warfare —Readiness and Efficiency—How
an Irishman Got a Dog and a Breakfast for
Nothing—Trouble in the Buner
Country—The Subaltern in War-time—The
Pessimistic Afridi—A Terrified
Jehu—Sniping—The Morning of the
Fight—Sir Bindon’s Dispositions—The
Artillery Triumphs—Touching the
Button—Rock-rolling—An Exciting
Race—The Bravest Man I Ever Saw—The
Enemy in Retreat—An Exhausting
Climb—The Tribute of a Foe—The Trophies
of War—Our Casualties |
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Chapter
XIV. The Elephant as Gentleman.
Sentiment About the Elephant—His
Mathematical Mind—"Dandelion’s"
Idiosyncrasies—Her Courage in the Face of an
Enemy—The Elephant Who Died—A Problem
in Sanitation—The Jungle Ship—Sea
Legs— The Genius of the Elephant—His
Timidity—Jock’s Victory—The Duchess of
Connaught’s Adventure— The Elephant’s
Caution—He Utilises Human Material— A
Malefactor Flogged by Elephants—The Elephant
in War—An Elephant Fight |