Old Sam's Christmas Pudding

It was Christmas Day in the trenches     In Spain in Penninsular War,     And Sam Small were cleaning his musket     A thing as he'd ne're done before.     They'd had 'em inspected that morning     And Sam had got into disgrace,     For when sergeant had looked down the barrel     A sparrow flew out in his face.     The sergeant reported the matter     To Lieutenant Bird then and there.     Said Lieutenant 'How very disgusting'     The Duke must be told of this 'ere.'     The Duke were upset when he heard     He said, 'I'm astonished, I am.     I must make a most drastic example     There'll be no Christmas pudding for Sam.'     When Sam were informed of his sentence     Surprise, rooted him to the spot.     'Twas much worse than he had expected,     He thought as he'd only be shot.     And so he sat cleaning his musket     And polishing barrel and butt.     While the pudding his mother had sent him,     Lay there in the mud at his foot.     Now the centre that Sam's lot were holding     Ran around a place called Badajoz.     Where the Spaniards had put up a bastion     And ooh...! what a bastion it was.     They pounded away all the morning     With canister, grape shot and ball.     But the face of the bastion defied them,     They made no impression at all.     They started again after dinner     Bombarding as hard as they could.     And the Duke brought his own private cannon     But that weren't a ha'pence o' good.     The Duke said, 'Sam, put down thy musket     And help me lay this gun true.'     Sam answered, 'You'd best ask your favours     From them as you give pudding to.'     The Duke looked at Sam so reproachful     'And don't take it that way,' said he.     'Us Generals have got to be ruthless     It hurts me more than it did thee.'     Sam sniffed at these words kind of sceptic,     Then looked down the Duke's private gun.     And said 'We'd best put in two charges,     We'll never bust bastion with one.'     He tipped cannon ball out of muzzle     He took out the wadding and all.     He filled barrel chock full of powder,     Then picked up and replaced the ball.     He took a good aim at the bastion     Then said 'Right-o, Duke, let her fly.'     The cannon nigh jumped off her trunnions,     And up went the bastion, sky high.     The Duke, he weren't 'alf elated     He danced around trench full of glee.     And said, 'Sam, for this gallant action.     You can hot up your pudding for tea.'     Sam looked 'round to pick up his pudding     But it wasn't there, nowhere about.     In the place where he thought he had left it,     Lay the cannon ball he'd just tipped out.     Sam saw in a flash what 'ad happened:     By an unprecedented mishap.     The pudding his mother had sent him,     Had blown Badajoz off map.     That's why fuisilliers wear to this moment     A badge which they think's a grenade.     But they're wrong... it's a brass reproduction,     Of the pudding Sam's mother once made.