STEVO’S
EPIC SWIM
As Remembered
By Jim Costello
One time,
while we were on the Road Block, Fus Bob Stevens fell into the canal and had
a bit of trouble trying to climb up the slippery bank to get out as nobody
would give him a hand. We just stood there and laughed at him. Because, we
had been warned, if you came in contact with the water from the Sweet Water
Canal – which was used as drinking water, a lavatory, washing the dishes,
dumping dead dogs, cats and donkeys, and even dead bodies – then you
would have to have about 50 injections and wait to see what happens!
This is the
poem, written by the Mortar’s Fus Cronnoly recalling Fus Robert Stevens
mishap and the certificate awarded to him:
Stevo’s
Big Swim
You’ve heard
of the country called Egypt, and the notorious Sweet Water Canal.
Now I’ll tell you a story of survival, and it happened to Stevo, my
old pal.
Why name this canal The Sweet Water, for this water is anything but sweet
You can catch typhoid and crabs, cholera and scabs, and it rots your boots
right off your feet
There are all kinds of disease in this sewer, dead cows, bullocks and dogs,
Plus it’s full of toxic pollution, and used as a latrine by the W-gs.
It was late afternoon, sometime
in June, we were busy digging a trench,
Working one at a time, we were doing just fine, apart from the horrible stench.
Our Stevo had just finished digging, he jumped out of the trench all kind
of flash,
Got into a muddle, tripped over his shovel, and fell in the canal with a splash.
His feet were going like pistons, in such a rhythmic style,
By the time he hit the embankment, he was doing the four-minute mile.
As he stood there wet and all muddy, the look on his face it was queer,
Then he made a rude noise with the back of his neck, and bubbles came out
of his ears.
“Stop messing about”
said the sergeant, “Who said you can go for a swim?”
“I was getting the pick” said our Stevo, “but tripped on
the shovel and fell in”
“Well get back to camp” said the sergeant, “and see the
MO right away.
If you make there, the chances are fair, you could last the rest of the day”.
“Get this man back to camp” screamed the sergeant, “before
he starts to smell.
Then I’ll have to make a report out, and everyone knows I can’t
spell”.
The MO asked what
had happened, and said he would give him a check
“Take your shirt off and while you’re at it you may as well drop
your kecks.
“Climb on
the table and jump off”, and then he told him to cough,
“Is it something wrong?” said our soldier, “No I just wanted
to see what dropped off”
He probed and he prodded and then he just nodded, our boy asked “What
was the matter”
His face lit up with glee and he said “Now I see, these would make a
fine pair of maracas
“Have a hot shower”
said the MO, “And use plenty of soap and don’t frolic,
Use a big scrubbing brush, and then at a push, ask the QM for a block of carbolic”
“After you shower yourself in the morning and before you put on your
kit,
Check from your head to your feet that everything’s neat, especially
your dangly bits”
“That’s all I can suggest at the moment, just make sure everything’s
all right,
Don’t get in a lather about things in your bladder, after all your bum’s
water tight”
Our Stevo went for a shower, he scrubbed until he was pink,
Then he scrubbed once again with his boots off, til at last he got rid of
the stink.
That evening in need of refreshment,
he went for a bottle of beer,
As he walked through the doors of the NAAFI, he received a big rousing cheer.
Eight hundred men stood to attention, they cheered for their mate, their old
pal,
Although they all took the Mick, and gave him some stick, he’d survived
the Sweet Water Canal.
But that’s what it’s like in the Army, when you’ve got trouble
right up to your ears
Your mates will always stand by you, especially the Lancashire Fusiliers.
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