# - Kipling, Rudyard.

asking whether he saw his son "on the field wounded and killed" ("...If you did see him, perhaps, you would be able to remember the hour when you saw him and whether it was forward or behind the mine buildings, and any other particulars..."), 1 page, 4to, on headed stationery of Bateman's, Burwash, [probably October 1915], paper brittle, tears at folds and edges affecting several letters (but entire text is legible), creasing and browning

Condition is described in the main body of the cataloguing where appropriate.
"In response to your inquiry, we are pleased to provide you with a general report of the condition of the property described above. Since we are not professional conservators or restorers, we urge you to consult with a restorer or conservator of your choice who will be better able to provide a detailed, professional report. Prospective buyers should inspect each lot to satisfy themselves as to condition and must understand that any statement made by Sotheby's is merely a subjective, qualified opinion. Prospective buyers should also refer to any Important Notices regarding this sale, which are printed in the Sale Catalogue.
NOTWITHSTANDING THIS REPORT OR ANY DISCUSSIONS CONCERNING A LOT, ALL LOTS ARE OFFERED AND SOLD AS IS" IN ACCORDANCE WITH THE CONDITIONS OF BUSINESS PRINTED IN THE SALE CATALOGUE."

The eighteen-year-old John Kipling, Lieutenant in the Irish Guards, was reported wounded and missing in the battle of Loos in September 1915. His grave was not located in Kipling's lifetime.

'Have you news of my boy Jack?'
Not this tide.
'When d'you think that he'll come back?'
Not with this wind blowing, and this tide.

'Has any one else had word of him?'
Not this tide.
For what is sunk will hardly swim,
Not with this wind blowing, and this tide.

'Oh, dear, what comfort can I find?'
None this tide,
Nor any tide,
Except he did not shame his kind -
Not even with that wind blowing, and that tide.

Then hold your head up all the more,
This tide,
And every tide;
Because he was the son you bore,
And gave to that wind blowing and that tide!

(Rudyard Kipling, 'My Boy Jack', 1916)