***Kipling would shoot him for putting a passage of his into this cut and run article.***
I perfer Kipling's poem of the one hundered head penalty for all our losses over the last thirty five years.
The Grave of the Hundered Head
A Snider squibbed in the jungle,
Somebody laughed and fled,
And the men of the First Shikaris
Picked up their Subaltern dead,
With a big blue mark in his forehead
And the back blown out of his head.
Thus the samadh was perfect,
Thus was the lesson plain
Of the wrath of the First Shikaris—
The price of a white man slain;
And the men of the First Shikaris
Went back into camp again.
Then a silence came to the river,
A hush fell over the shore,
And Bohs that were brave departed,
And Sniders squibbed no more;
For he Burmans said
That a kullah’s head
Must be paid for with heads five score.