The Trade by Kipling

"The Trade"

By Rudyard Kipling

 

1914-18
(Sea Warfare)

 

They bear, in place of classic names, 

    Letters and numbers on their skin. 

They play their grisly blindfold games 

    In little boxes made of tin. 

    Sometimes they stalk the Zeppelin, 

Sometimes they learn where mines are laid, 

    Or where the Baltic ice is thin. 

That is the custom of "The Trade." 

 

Few prize-courts sit upon their claims. 

    They seldom tow their targets in. 

They follow certain secret aims 

    Down under, far from strife or din. 

    When they are ready to begin 

No flag is flown, no fuss is made 

    More than the shearing of a pin. 

That is the custom of "The Trade." 

 

The Scout's quadruple funnel flames 

    A mark from Sweden to the Swin, 

The Cruiser's thund'rous screw proclaims 

    Her comings out and goings in: 

    But only whiffs of paraffin 

Or creamy rings that fizz and fade 

    Show where the one-eyed Death has been. 

That is the custom of "The Trade." 

 

Their feats, their fortunes and their fames 

    Are hidden from their nearest kin; 

No eager public backs or blames, 

    No journal prints the yarn they spin 

    (The Censor would not let it in! ) 

When they return from run or raid. 

    Unheard they work, unseen they win. 

That is the custom of "The Trade."