Breaker Morant was shot for killing various Afrikaaner civilians and a German missionary. He was part of the Australian Forces. The consequence was that the Australian Government now mistrusted the British Army and refused to let them court-martial any Australian Servicemen.

Which meant that the Aussies did not lose shellshocked men to the firing squad in the first world war. The Kiwis did. This is his final poem.

Butchered To Make A Dutchman’s Holiday

In prison cell I sadly sit,
A d__d crest-fallen chappie!
And own to you I feel a bit-
A little bit – unhappy!

It really ain’t the place nor time
To reel off rhyming diction –
But yet we’ll write a final rhyme
Whilst waiting cru-ci-fixion!

No matter what ‘end’ they decide –
Quick-lime or ‘b’iling ile,’ sir?
We’ll do our best when crucified
To finish off in style, sir!

But we bequeath a parting tip
For sound advice of such men,
Who come across in transport ship
To polish off the Dutchmen!

If you encounter any Boers
You really must not loot ’em!
And if you wish to leave these shores,
For pity’s sake, DON’T SHOOT ‘EM!!

And if you’d earn a D.S.O.,
Why every British sinner
Should know the proper way to go
Is: ‘ASK THE BOER TO DINNER!’

Let’s toss a bumper down our throat, –
Before we pass to Heaven,
And toast: ‘The trim-set petticoat
We leave behind in Devon.’

At its end the manuscript is described –
The Last Rhyme and Testament of Tony Lumpkin –

Harry ‘Breaker’ Harbord Morant

Modern servicemen follow the rules of engagement, for they fear the lawyers in their army more than the enemy. Which may be why modern armies lose to tribesmen with far less cunning than the Boer Kommandoes.