““The Marine is a trained athlete, a picked man, a he creature with muscles and a jaw, whose motto is “kill or be killed,” and who believes with all his soul that no man on earth can lick him. And it comes pretty near to being so. He is own brother to the British Marine, of whom Kipling wrote: “An’ after I met ‘im all over the world, a-doin’ all kinds of things, Like landin’ ‘isself with a Gatlin’ gun to talk to them ‘eathen kings; ‘E sleeps in an ‘ammick instead of a cot, an’ ‘e drills with the deck on a slew, An’ ‘e sweats like a Jolly — ‘Er Majesty’s Jolly — soldier an’ sailor too! For there isn’t a job on the top o’ the earth the beggar don’t know, nor do — You can leave ‘im at night on a bald man’s ‘ead, to paddle ‘is own canoe — ‘E’s a sort of a bloomin’ cosmopolouse — soldier an’ sailor too.””