When the
far flung Roman legion |
Those as “rookies” here arriving |
Ruled the
world, with iron hand, |
As trained soldiers were “passed out”. |
Conquest
brought them to the region |
Centurion tank and armoured carrier |
Known to
them as “Cumbria’s Land.” |
Bren guns, sten guns, PIATs, too, |
Northward
cross the Tweed they sallied |
Spitfires roar near sonic barrier |
Where they
met the doughty Scot. |
Where the Roman eagle flew! |
Driven
back, their ranks soon rallied |
Men from every allied nation |
On this
ever - hallowed spot. |
Drilled where Hadrian used to train; |
Led by
Hadrian – famous warrior- |
Learnt new skills in preparation |
Here they
built a mighty Wall |
For assault on France again. |
As the most
effective barrier |
Victory came and Hadrians settled |
To the
raids from painted Gaul. |
Peacefully to routine fare; |
This the
start, then, of our College |
Hussars’ horses highly mettled |
On this
wild and wind – swept site, |
Pranced about the barrack square! |
Roman
soldiers seeking knowledge, |
|
Trade by
day and Prep. By night ! |
But some Minister of vision |
How they
loathed this northern station! |
Chose it as a R.E.M.E. College, |
Standing
frozen on the
wall. |
And the War Office made provision |
How they
cursed the Scottish nation! |
For the spread of modern knowledge |
Who
prevented their recall |
To fitters – gun, VMs and others |
To their
homeland, where their fellows |
Brought from Scotlands furthest straths, |
Nightly
joined in orgy glorious, |
Torn from arms of loving mothers |
Or with
wild applauding bellows |
Here to learn the joys of maths! |
Cheered, as
lions were victorious |
Though at first success came slowly |
O’er the
Christian Martyrs, weekly, |
Soon a sense of pride arose |
While they
shivered wet and weary |
From beginnings poor and lowly |
Northward,
through the darkness bleakly |
Carlisle’s name illustrious grows. |
Peering
o’er the landscape dreary. |
Cups were won for hockey, shooting, |
Shields and
spears they nightly burnished |
Cricket, running, rugger, too: |
Crouching
frozen on their “pits”. |
Colleges on equal footing |
In their
barracks, Spartan – furnished, |
Soon the might of Hadrian’s knew! |
Moaning
sadly, “We were ‘nits’ |
Boxing and athletic meeting, |
To have
joined the Roman legion, |
Pipe and Brass and Corps of Drums, |
As
apprentice charioteer |
Every College risks a beating |
To be
posted to a region |
When to Hadrian’s it comes, |
Where the
State controls the beer!” |
Trade results and education |
Not for
them a two years’ training |
Fav’rably compare with most. |
Followed by
a posting home, |
A/T. from this happy station, |
But the
prospect of remaining |
“We’re the greatest!” proudly boast. |
All their
service far from Rome. |
Lowland fells and Scottish heather |
|
Training grounds beyond compare |
|
Bracing winds and Carlisle weather, |
So down
through the passing ages |
Snow – clad slopes and champagne air! |
Hadrian’s
flourished on its own; |
No other camp throughout the land |
Wrote its
name in History’s pages |
Could match Carlisle in any way: |
Long e’er
Aborfield was known! |
The “Q” brief passed – new barracks
planned – |
But alas !
the Roman nation |
Building to start without delay! |
Was
besieged by savage foes, |
A rosy future stretched ahead |
Legions
left their northern station – |
Until a bitter blow revealed |
O’er the
wall, the wild wind blows. |
That Hadrian’s camp was doomed instead |
Towers and
stonework swiftly crumble |
To move, en bloc, to Arborfield! |
Pillaged by
marauding bands; |
And so, ere long, this ancient site |
Farm –
carts on the ramparts rumble; |
Will once more rumble to decay |
Desolate
the College stands! |
And Hadrian’s eagle soar in flight |
Till the
war lord, Hore – Belisha, |
While
sprawling Spiders rot away! |
Built a
fresh camp on the site, |
Yet all who served here must ensure |
For the
newly – formed militia |
Carlisle’s traditions never fade |
Who
restored this Country’s might. |
But through the years unchanged endure |
On the
ground the spiders sprawling |
In memory of the part She played, |
Sprang up
swiftly, strange and stark. |
In training them as craftsmen skilled |
Came
recruits from dawn to dark. |
And sportsmen worthy of the name. |
So the
College, once more thriving, |
Their debt to Her will be fulfilled |
Echoed to
the sergeants’ shout. |
If they preserve Her honoured name! |
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