But It's "Thank You, Mister Atkins" When The Band Begins To Play
"But it's "Thank you, Mister Atkins", when the band begins to play"
The rattle of the train’s wheels could make anypony fall asleep. Especially if the only thing one could see were fields and farms, stretching all the way to the horizon.
One of the passengers of the last wagon was not an exception to this rule. A middle-aged earth pony was sleeping, stretched on a suprisingly comfy seat. He was breathing calmly; every movement of his chest was making the medals on his uniform clink. The red material of the uniform fit the stallion’s grey hair surprisingly well.
His nap was abrubtly interrupted when a ticket inspector suddenly bursted through the door. “We’re almost there.” He growled, clearly displeased by having to deal with such a passenger. “We’re reaching Ponyville station in three minutes.”
“Thank you very much, “The grey pony replied politely. His eyes were wide open the moment the other pony touched the door-handle.
“You’re welcome.” The conductor’s voice dripped with venom. “The sooner you’re out of my train, the better.” Hate mixed with contempt was burning in his eyes. He looked as if he wanted to say something else, but decided against it. Instead he spit on the ground and slammed the door shut.
The grey stallion sighed. He was used to such reactions, but it didn’t mean he liked them. He would love to teach this buffon some respect, but after giving it some thought, he decided to spruce himself up before the train reached the station instead.
Thanks to years of practice, he only needed two minutes to make himself look like he just jumped out of a recruitment poster. The uniform looked like it was sewn-up a moment ago, the medals on his chest shined brightly, and the sabre was fastened to his side in accordance with the smallest details of the Field Protocol. He also had saddlebags resting on his back and black epaulettes laced with silver on his shoulders. A black shako rested on his head. It was adorned with an emblem that said a lot about its wearer - a skull with crossed hoof and bayonet below.
The grey pony thoroughly checked all the details, not excluding the smallest ones. He couldn’t afford to look sloppy - the honor of his unit rested on his shoulders. It did not matter if he was on the frontlines, on leave, or was assigned to non-combat tasks. He was still a soldier of Totenhoof Division, and every soldier, even the freshest of recruits, knew that Colour Sergeant Razor Drill would rather die than sully the name of his unit with improper behaviour or appearance.
He felt the train slowing down, eventually squealing to a halt at the station.. He waited for the swarm of ponies to leave the wagon before walking out of his compartment. There had been a remarkable number of passengers disembarking here, especially considering the size of the town. He realized why the command has sent him here, out of all places, and allowed himself a smirk. Merely looking at the crowds of ponies swarming the station assured him that the draft was going to be successful. Of course, that was none of his concern - his only job was to deliver the appropriate missive to local authorities.
He slowly walked towards the wagon’s door. He caught the boorish ticket inspector with a glimpse of his eye, but didn’t pay him any attention. He exited the wagon and smiled, feeling the breeze and sun’s warmth on his face. The only thing that did not quite fit the idyllic setting was the terrified - in some cases even hostile - look on the faces of the other passengers. Apparently his uniform was not a welcome sight in this town.
He recalled that the captain advised him to wear civilian clothes for this trip, but the sergeant refused the notion outright. He was a true soldier, a veteran of countless campaigns and a living legend of his elite division. He had the longest record of service out of all non-commissioned officers in the army. On many occasions he was the only thing standing between his subordinates and Death itself. As opposed to many of the weaklings of the Royal Guard, he fought against true enemies of the Crown in mortal combat. The army was his second family, and he felt nothing but pride for being a part of it. And no uninformed civilian could ever change that.
He made his way through the streets of the town, ignoring the reactions of civilians. He didn’t have to ask for the way - he’s learnt it’s layout before departing. Seeing that the last campaign has been very successful, and - what was unexpected - the pay came on time, he decided that he could make a little surprise for fellow soldiers of his company. He made a project of a special badge some time ago, but, quite frankly, his exceptional prowess in wielding different kinds of sharp objects did not extend to using a needle. His daughters mentioned that Ponyville was home to an incredibly talented seamstress; rumour had it that even Princess Celestia herself has been astounded by her abilities. Well, fashion has always been the true passion of his beloved offspring. It was the cause of their mother’s happiness and the reason their father’s wallet was often empty. Of course, he complained just for the sake of it - he would give his daughters all the diamonds in the world, let alone spend a few bits on fashionable dresses.
The thought of his family made him grin, and the smile widened up even further when he saw a fair-sized stall adorned with a huge red apple. He wasn’t actually hungry, but a juicy fruit would certainly make his day that much better. An orange-colored salesmare and a red stallion were packing up already, but Razor was sure they won’t mind earning a few more bits this day. While approaching the stall, he appraised the red stallion. He had to admit - he wouldn’t be perfectly confident fighting somepony like him. Not only was he almost as huge as a gryphon, but the look in his eyes betrayed considerable intellect. His calm demeanor and a straw of hay in his mouth could trick many, but the sergeant was no fool himself. He sincerely hoped the stallion would join the army - he would be an invaluable asset for any unit. However, his mind was set on a different goal at this time, so he adressed the orange mare that has been staring at him.
“Good morning, missy.” He took of his shako and bowed. “I see you’re already closing up, but is there a chance I could yet make a purchase?”
“I’m sorry, but we’re all out,” she replied bluntly.
Razor Drill had never heard an equally bad lie in his whole life. He didn’t even have to see the surprised look on the red stallion’s face to see through it.
“I see. I guess I’m out of luck today,” he somehow managed to reply without grinding his teeth. “Farewell, then.”
***
When the soldier has departed, the red stallion spoke out to his companion.
“Why did you lie to him, Applejack? We still got two boxes full of apples.”
“Didn’t you see who he was, big brother?” Applejack returned the question. “It was one of those murderers from Totenhoof! Only thing he can get from me is a kick in the face!|
“Just because he’s a soldier doesn’t mean he’s a murderer,” her brother opposed. “I think you’re just prejudiced.”
“Think what you want, but he’s not getting a single apple from our farm.” She hissed, clearly irritated. “Anyway, how come you’re talking so much today? Aren’t you supposed to pull a cart or something?”
“Eeyup…”
***
Meanwhile, Razor Drill was making his way towards a shop situated at the end of the street. If one of his soldiers could see the subtle change of the sergeant’s pace, they would start looking for cover. Perhaps the Moon would be a good place to hide. Even officers prefered to stay away when he was in such a mood. He was boiling inside. He recognized of the bearers of Elements of Harmony: Applejack. The Element of Honesty. Lying right in his face. She probably wasn’t aware of the fact that he heard her comment about “murderers from Totenhoof. He clenched his teeth in helpless anger, realizing that the enemy propaganda has done a spectacular job in this town.
There has been an outbreak of “reliable and confirmed” news from Prance leaking to Equestria. These news depicted the Totenhoof division as a bunch of bloodthirsty murderers, paid by the Princesses for slaughtering civilians and burning cities and villages to the ground. Photos showcasing the Totenhoof soldiers commiting said atrocities had also appeared in the press. The deception was quickly exposed, as the photos were forged in such a primitive way that the experts only needed several minutes to discover it. Also, the “reliable” news were describing war crimes “commited by the redcoats” in regions entirely untouched by war.
The ponies living on the borderlands quickly realized that it was all just a primitive trick, and started using these newspapers in their toilets. And they haven’t necessarily meant to read them. However, it seemed that in the heart of the country, rich and prosperous, ponies believed in Prance’s lies. This stirred great anger in the sergeant’s heart. He wasn’t only mad at the enemy, but also at Equestrian press, which not only was often hesitant to deny the news, but sometimes even dared to suggest that there may be some truth in the accusations towards Totenhoof. As if their own war correspondents did not provide reliable informations. Privately, Razor Drill suspected that large sums of money were involved in the whole affair, as these tendencies were growing over time.
Anyway, after such welcome he knew things can only go from bad to worse. Nevertheless, he did not abandon the idea of making a present for his soldiers. With any luck the seamstress won’t decline an order as big as his. At least he hoped so.
Upon entering the boutique, he saw two mares lost in a conversation. The white unicorn has just been presenting a beautiful piece of cloth to the yellow pegasus that was admiring it loudly. Razor blinked, refusing to believe his eyes. It had been a few minutes and he had already ran into more Bearers: Elements of Generosity and Kindness.
They both turned around when they heard the bell. Razor Drill immediately realized that things wouldn’t go as well as he’d hoped. Contempt was painted on the face of the white mare, while her yellow companion squealed and cowered as if she thought he was going to raise his sabre and attack her.
He approached the counter, hoping that his face betrayed nothing but polite interest. Since he was already here, it didn’t hurt to try and make the order. Well, any additional acts of rudeness would obviously hurt, but he’s made a promise to himself that he won’t allow anything to break his composure. Except if somepony offends his beloved unit in front of him.
“Good morning, ladies,” he bowed. “May I ask for a favor of you?” He adressed the white unicorn. “I would like to make an order for a decent-sized batch of special badges, and I was informed that your needle-wielding skills are second-to-none.”
“Whoever said that was right,” the mare replied with a cold smile. “I must warn you, though, my prices are quite… prohibitive. How many badges do you need?”
“Exactly one hundred and twenty, miss…” He paused. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I’ve caught your name.”
“She didn’t tell you…” The yellow pegasus whispered. Both the sergeant and the seamstress ignored it.
“Rarity, mister…”
“Razor Drill, miss Rarity,” he replied and hesitated for a split-second. The pride of serving in the army has outweighted reason. “Colour Sergeant Razor Drill.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, sergeant,” she replied spitefully. She only looked at the badge design for a second. “My price is ten bits for a badge. They will be ready in a month.”
“I see,” he murmured. It was nothing short of a robbery. 1200 bits for these badges? He felt anger growing inside again. It would be cheaper even in Canterlot. “But perhaps you could give me a discount for such a large order?” He asked as politely as he could, and saw that the unicorn was about to back down.
“Well, I may have been a little too rash… sergeant,” this time she appraised the design more thoroughly. “Yes, I believe five bits for a badge will be adeq--”
“HOW CAN YOU DO THIS, RARITY?” This time they couldn’t ignore the yellow mare’s voice. “CAN’T YOU SEE IT’S ONE OF THIS BAD, CRUEL MURDERERS? AND YOU WANT TO DO BUSINESS WITH HIM?”
“This is none of your concern,” he snapped at her. He was just about out of patience. “And I would appreciate it if you stopped judging ponies you don’t know anything about! “
“Fluttershy!” Rarity was staring at her friend, and the look on her face betrayed a complete shock mixed with something that was strangely resemblant to admiration.
“DON’T GET INTO THIS, RARITY!” It seemed that the anger burning in Fluttershy has matched that of sergeant’s. “I DON’T KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT YOU, RIGHT? DO YOU THINK WE DON’T GET NEWSPAPERS HERE? I SAW WHAT YOU AND THE LIKES OF YOU DID TO THOSE INNOCENT PONIES! HOW DARE YOU SHOW UP IN OUR TOWN--”
“Silence!” Razor didn’t have to raise his voice, accustomed to giving orders, to stop the yellow pegasus’ screaming. “I’m not talking with you. I’m trying to finish my personal business. I only want to be left alone, but I will not allow anypony to insult my comrades!” He stomped his hoof.
Fluttershy’s whole body was shaking, as if she was scared by her own outburst. It seemed that, again, she was overcome with the shyness that she was famous for, with not just a hint of fear. She squeaked again, started weeping, and cowered, as if waiting for a blow.
Razor sighed heavily. He was still mad, but he didn’t want to cause such a reaction. Before he got to try to apologize, Rarity spoke out.
“Leave my shop immediately, please,” she demanded, standing between him and Fluttershy. Her hoof, pointing at the doors, left the sergeant no doubts about futility of trying to continue the conversation.
“I apologize,” he replied. Politeness didn’t cost him anything. Not waiting for the mares’ reaction, he turned around and walked out into the sunny street, hearing Fluttershy’s sobs and Rarity’s soothing voice behind him.
These two encounters have assured him that he shouldn’t spend more time in Ponyville than he absolutely had to. He went to the city hall without further delays. The ponies there also had nothing but contempt for him. He was forced to wait for several hours before the mayor graciously granted him an audience. At the very least, the conversation with her was professional, though certainly not cordial. He gave her a sealed letter and patiently waited until she read it. He answered all the questions the mayor had in a short discussion that resulted next. The army was going to open a recruiting station in Ponyville in two weeks, and the local authorities’ duty was to find a suitable location and a quarter for the recruiting officer. When all was set, Razor Drill received confirmation of delivering orders and headed back to the train station.
The sun was setting over the town, but it seemed that there have been a lot more ponies on the streets than before. The drill sergeant had an unpleasant feeling that his presence here was the cause of this. His honed senses warned him not to get into any kind of an argument. The word of what has transpired at the boutique must have spread already, and he had no doubt that the tale was spiced up appropriately. Any further incidents could lead to… rash reactions, and though Razor was certain that he could deal with any potential threat, he did not want to try his luck.
He was getting close to the station when he heard loud rumbling of his stomach. Back at the front he was, on a few occasions, forced to fight without food for several days, but it was hardly a pleasant experience. Though his instincts told him otherwise, he decided to visit the pastry shop located at the side of the street. It was obvious that it was popular, as despite the late hour, most of the tables have still been occupied.
Razor walked inside, ignoring the hostile remarks some of the ponies made. He had no intention of sitting down - he just wanted to buy some food and get on the train. In a sudden, and not very justified, fit of optimism he thought at least that would go without complications.
He was wrong.
Upon entering, he immediately noticed a pink mare standing behind the counter. She seemed filled with unlimited energy. She was bouncing around, humming, and her chatter could be heard even outside of the shop. When the client before him has made his purchase, Razor approached the counter, looked at the clerk and… was speechless. Before his very eyes, the colour of her fur started fading and her fluffy mane deflated. To make things even worse, she started shaking and her eyes welled up with tears. Before he could say anything, a yellow stallion in a funny cap showed up behind her.
“Go, Pinkie Pie,” he said in a paternal tone. “I’ll take care of it.”
“Alright, mister Cake,” Pinkie replied and started retreating. She fell right into the hooves of a blue mare and hugged her, clearly looking for help and comfort. Razor could barely hear her last, quiet words:
“Why did he have to come here? Why are they hurting those innocent ponies? Why, Mrs. Cake?”
“It’s alright, Pinkie Pie,” said Cup Cake. “Carrot! Please take care of this… stallion.”
“We serve no red-coats here,” the stallion called Carrot said to the sergeant. “I want you to leave my place right now.”
The way he said the word “redcoat” made Razor furious again. He turned around and left the pastry shop without a word. At least he tried to, as a lavender mare with a dragon at her side blocked the door. Before he could say anything, she greeted him with an offensive tone:
“The mayor said that you came to open a recruitment station. Don’t think anypony from our town is going to join your band of murderers, sergeant! We all know what they say about you, and I’ve read all about it! I’m going to close this station even if I have to write to Princess Celestia herself!”
Razor appraised her for a moment. He recognized her, ss well as the shop-assistant: The Bearers of Elements of Magic and Laughter. The unicorn’s brother was also the captain of the Royal Guard. He heard a lot of good things about him - the young officer was apparently smart enough to ask for… unofficial training. A few of former non-commissioned officers of the army had become his private teachers, and he was doing unexpectedly well. He also made sure that some of his green lieutenants undergo the same training. Knowing all that, his sister’s reaction was… painful.
“You are way out of your league here, missy,” he said, this time unable to hide the anger in his voice. “You also shouldn’t believe in everything the newspapers say. And if you think you’re above the general staff and can stop the opening of the recruiting station, you are welcome to try. But you should visit a psychiatrist afterwards.”
The lavender unicorn gasped. Razor was not certain whether she was shocked by the notion that not everything that was written on paper must be true, or rather because he ignored her threats about Princess Celestia’s involvement. Razor Drill was a loyalist by heart and always claimed that the rule of the Princesses was the best thing that could happen to Equestria, and he was certain that in case of any dispute they would both support the army, not some resentful civilians. Even if the famous Elements of Harmony were among them.
Before she could recompose herself, Razor left the building and trotted towards the nearby railroad station. He was not going to start galloping - it could provoke some hot-headed civilians to chase him, and then he might have to hurt them. And, despite whatever enemy propaganda said about them - and whatever the civilians believed - the redcoats turned into bloodthirsty beasts only when facing their hostile counterparts.
He was a few steps away from the platform when things turned from bad to worse. He instinctively looked at the clock and saw that the next train to Canterlot was leaving in ten minutes. He bought the ticket and smiled wrily, seeing how fast he was served. They clearly didn’t want him here. He made his way to the open-air platform and started thinking about what he was going to do after he reached the capital and reported back to the staff. He will still have three days left before he has to return to his unit, so he will have time to meet his family, order the badges for his company and forget about all the bad things he experienced in Ponyville. He smiled widely when the thought of his daughters crossed his mind - he would certainly find time to buy them some nice gifts.
Suddenly a blue lightning appeared directly over him - and was moving towards him an at incredible speed. Razor Drill was not found off-guard, however, and assumed a defensive stance immediately, but the attacker’s speed allowed her to steal his shako regardless. She landed a few meters away from him and gave him a wicked smile.
“What now, smart guy?” she asked in an angry tone. “You’re not so tough when you don’t have some scared mares to shout at, are you? You got something to tell me, asshole?”
“Yes. You have exactly ten seconds to give me my shako back,” the sergeant replied dispassionately, but in a firm tone. “If you do not, you will regret it… deeply.”
"Oh, boy", she laughed in response. - “Give me back my shako”! That’s all you can do? I’m gonna show you what we think about scumbags like you here! - she shouted, and, encouraged by the crowd that gathered around them, she threw the hat to the ground and started stomping on it.
That was the last straw. Colour Sergeant Razor Drill could ignore everything ponies said about him, but he couldn’t bear standing idly while his unit’s emblem was being stomped into the dirt. He was well aware that what he was about to do was going to hurt the unit’s reputation, but he knew just as well that every officer, including the chief of staff himself, will stand by his side. Even if he punishes one of the Bearers of the Elements.
He dashed to her in a blink of an eye and stroke a single blow. His front hoof connected with Rainbow Dash’s jaw; the force of the blow threw her away from the ruined shako. Sergeant picked it up and started cleaning it up, all the while appraising the crowd that suddenly went silent. They couldn’t believe someone dared to assault one of the bearers.
In the meanwhile, Rainbow Dash has recovered after the unexpected blow. It was clear that she was furious. The five of her friends also joined her. Who knows how the situation would develop if it wasn’t for the “divine intervention”?
They heard a loud crack. The Royal Sisters appeared between the sergeant and the Bearers. Razor Drill immediately kneeled down and bowed in a display of honest respect towards their majesty; the rest of the gathered ponies followed shortly. The Princesses received homage in silence, and Princess Celestia adressed the soldier.
“Colour Sergeant, I do not approve of assaulting one of the Bearers,” she began, but was quickly interrupted by shouts of the angered Ponyvillians, led by the Six.
“He’s a murderer!”
“He wants to take our friends away to the army!”
“The likes of him shouldn’t be allowed to walk among lawful ponies!”
“He made Fluttershy and Pinkie Pie cry!”
“He says newspapers lie!”
“He hit Rainbow Dash! He could’ve hurt her! He should be punished!”
“SILENCE!” The Royal Canterlot Voice echoed above the town. The Royal Sisters were glaring at the now terrified crowd. “We have observed the sergeant since the moment he came here. We wanted to see if he would receive the welcome he deserved. He has met with nothing but contempt and hatred here!”
“He deserved it!” Twilight Sparkle dared to speak out. “We all know what they say about the murderers of Totenhoof!”
“And he hit me!” Rainbow Dash seconded her. “Let me at him!”
What happened next was so unexpected that nopony dared to say another word. Princess Celestia moved so fast that their eyes barely recorded it. They only heard two loud cracks, when her wings hit the protesting mares.
“I SAID - SILENCE!” Nopony has ever seen the white alicorn in this state. Raw power and a truly royal deprecation emanated from her and her sister. “You have shamed yourselves and the whole Ponyville alike! Rainbow Dash, you have attacked one of my soldiers. You, Twilight, have believed in everything that our enemies wrote and did not stop to think that they may be lying! The rest of the Bearers should also feel ashamed. We are disappointed by your behaviour. So very disappointed.” Fury was still burning in Celestia’s eyes when she looked upon the six mares, cowering on the ground. “The war has erupted again and we guarantee that we WILL open a recruiting station in Ponyville. And if we are not satisfied by the number of volunteers, we will conduct a Press gang. You will not live in peace if you cannot respect those that have granted you peace. And now… GET OUT OF MY SIGHT!”
Everypony, including the terrified Bearers, scattered in panic. In the meanwhile, Luna turned to the stallion.
“Colour Sergeant, once again Equestria is in need of your abilities. We will take you directly to Canterlot, so that you can spend two days with your family. After that we will be forced to send you to the battlefront.”
“I am at your service, Your Majesties,” Razor stood at attention and saluted.
“As I have said, sergeant, I do not approve of assaulting one of the Bearers,” Celestia said again, only this time she was not interrupted. “But I understand that you were defending the honor of your division. We will not speak of this again. Now come with us, please.”
“Yes, Your Majesties,” he managed to say, before he was teleported away.
***
Three days later Razor Drill was in a train again, headed to the distant border of Prance. He was sitting in his compartment and observed his subordinates talking about whatever they were doing on their passes. He was slowly falling asleep, when one of the soldiers spoke out to him.
“Sergeant, sir! Can you tell us anything more about this Ponyville?” The private was holding a newspaper in his hooves and pointed at an article that stated that, after mistreating “one of the heroes of Tottenhoof division”, the town’s authorities should forget about getting any government dotations this year. There was also a mention of the famous Rainbow Dash being rejected by Wonderbolts because of her “lack of character” and that she cannot apply again for the next two years. The last interesting news was that the chairponies of several big newspapers were being tried for alleged tax fraud - apparently some of the money found on their accounts came from rather shady sources. It seemed that the Canterlot prison was about to fill up in the near future.
The sergeant smirked - he was not a vengeful pony, but it was nice to see that justice was served. He looked at the private and thought for a moment. Then he recalled one of the conversations that he had with his wife.
“Tell me, private, have you noticed how the ponies were reacting to us today?”
‘Yes, sergeant! The crowd was cheering for us!” The young soldier grinned his teeth.
“It was really nice to march like this.”
“And do you remember how you were treated when you were on your pass?”
“Yes, sergeant,” the private stopped smiling. “They weren’t so nice. They didn’t want to serve me anything in a few bars, just because I was wearing the uniform.”
“Exactly. Well, my beloved wife has reminded me of a fragment of an old poem. It was written in the distant past, when the ponies still had those really weird names. It’s called “Tommy Atkins”, Razor noticed that every soldier in the compartment was listening carefully. “Listen up.”
“I WENT into a public 'ouse to get a pint o' beer,
The publican 'e up an' sez, " We serve no red-coats here."
The girls be'ind the bar they laughed an' giggled fit to die,
I outs into the street again an' to myself sez I:
O it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' " Tommy, go away " ;
But it's " Thank you, Mister Atkins," when the band begins to play
The band begins to play, my boys, the band begins to play,
O it's " Thank you, Mister Atkins," when the band begins to play.”
The soldiers were listening in silence. It was clear that all of them have been mistreated, but the poem has lifted their spirits. Now they knew that they were not the first ponies that have found themselves in such a situation, and they could hope that with a large dose of luck, they may be the last. At least that’s what the Princesses seemed to want to achieve with their current actions.
“Sergeant, but what does it mean, exactly?” One of the less bright privates asked.
“It means that they are being nice to us only when they need us,” Razor explained. “But they don’t want to know that we even exist when there is no war. Yes, yes, I know, it’s not fair. But that’s how this world is made. Who knows? Maybe one day somepony will manage to change it…”
“Tommy Atkins”, a poem by Rudyard Kipling
