अंग्रेज़ी साहित्‍य के महान कवि और लेखक रडयार्ड किपलिंग ने अपने जीवन का एक पड़ाव भारत में गुज़ारा। इस दौरान उन्‍होंने भारत से संबंधित अनेक विषयों पर अपनी लेखनी चलाई। इनकी एक कविता में इन्‍होंने भारतीय इतिहास के सबसे भयावह युद्धों में से एक पानीपत के तृतीय युद्ध का वर्णन किया है। पानीपत के युद्ध का भारतीय इतिहास में विशेष स्‍थान है। पहले पानीपत के युद्ध (1526) में बाबर ने भारत में मुगल साम्राज्‍य की नींव रखी, द्वितीय युद्ध (1756) में मुगल सम्राट अकबर ने हिन्‍दुओं पर विजय प्राप्‍त की और तृतीय युद्ध (1761) मराठों और अफगानों के बीच लड़ा गया था, जिसमें 80,000 मराठा योद्धा मारे गए या गुलाम बनाए गए। रडयार्ड किपलिंग ने अपनी कविता ‘विद सिंधिया टू डेल्ही’ (With Scindia to Delhi) को इसी तीसरे युद्ध का आधार बनाया।

हिन्‍दूओं में केसरिया रंग को बलिदान का प्रतीक माना जाता है। केसरिया रंग के वस्त्र पारंपरिक रूप से राजपूत और मराठा योद्धाओं द्वारा दान किए जाते थे, जब वे बराबरी के शत्रु के विरूद्ध लड़ाई में जाते थे। अफगान के विरूद्ध भी कुछ ऐसा ही युद्ध था जिसमें मराठों और मुगलों के श्रेष्‍ठ नायकों ने भाग लिया, जिसमें सदाशिव राव भाऊ ने प्रमुख की भूमिका निभाई। अफगान की ओर से अहमद शाह दुर्रानी के नेतृत्‍व में युद्ध की अगुवाई की गयी। यह मुख्‍यतः भारतीय सीमा के निकट पठानों द्वारा बसाए गए खोस्‍त (अफगानिस्तान का एक कस्बा) से आए थे। इस युद्ध के दौरान सदाशिवराव भाऊ (मराठा सेना के सेनापति) ने मल्हार राव होलकर (अनुभवी सेनापति) की सलाह को नज़रअंदाज करते हुए बड़ी वीरता से युद्ध लड़ा किंतु हार गए।

किपलिंग ने अपनी कविता में युद्ध में रोहिल्‍ला सेना का भी वर्णन किया, जो मुख्‍यतः अफगानिस्‍तान की एक आदिवासी जनजाति थी तथा उत्‍तरी भारत में आक्रमण कर रोहिलखण्‍ड में आकर बस गए थे। किपलिंग की कविता की कुछ पंक्तियां इस प्रकार हैं:
The children of the hills of Khost before our lances ran,
We drove the black Rohillas back as cattle to the pen;
Twas then we needed Mulhar Rao to end what we began,
A thousand men had saved the charge; he fled the field with ten!
हमारे प्रहार से पूर्व खोस्त की पहाड़ियों के बच्चे (अफगानी) भाग गए,
हमने काले रोहिल्‍लों को भी मवेशियों के समान यहां से लौटा दिया,
इस अभियान को अब अंत करने हेतु हमें मल्‍हार राव की आवश्‍यकता थी,
एक हज़ार लोगों ने इस अभियान में प्रभार संभाला और वह दस के साथ मैदान छोड़ कर भाग गया।

League after league the formless scrub took shape and glided by
League after league the white road swirled behind the white mare's feet
League after league, when leagues were done, we heard the Populzai,
Where sure as Time and swift as Death the tireless footfall beat.

बटालियन की बटालियन निराकार वनों को पार करते हुए आगे की ओर बढ़ रही थी
मील दर मील सेना के घोड़ों के पैरों तले सफेद सड़क पीछे की और घूम रही थी
कई सैन्‍य दल जब एकत्रित हुए, तो उन्‍हें अफगानों की आवाज सुनाई दी
जहां निश्चित रूप से समय और मृत्‍यु बिना थके तीव्रता से आगे बढ़ रहे थे

किपलिंग की पूर्ण कविता इस प्रकार है:

The wreath of banquet overnight lay withered on the neck,
Our hands and scarfs were saffron-dyed for signal of despair,
When we went forth to Paniput to battle with the Mlech,
Ere we came back from Paniput and left a kingdom there.

Thrice thirty thousand men were we to force the Jumna fords
The hawk-winged horse of Damajee, mailed squadrons of the Bhao,
Stark levies of the southern hills, the Deccan's sharpest swords,
And he the harlot's traitor son the goatherd Mulhar Rao!

Thrice thirty thousand men were we before the mists had cleared,
The low white mists of morning heard the war-conch scream and bray;
We called upon Bhowani and we gripped them by the beard,
We rolled upon them like a flood and washed their ranks away.

The children of the hills of Khost before our lances ran,
We drove the black Rohillas back as cattle to the pen;
'Twas then we needed Mulhar Rao to end what we began,
A thousand men had saved the charge; he fled the field with ten!

There was no room to clear a sword -- no power to strike a blow,
For foot to foot, ay, breast to breast, the battle held us fast
Save where the naked hill-men ran, and stabbing from below
Brought down the horse and rider and we trampled them and passed.

To left the roar of musketry rang like a falling flood
To right the sunshine rippled red from redder lance and blade
Above the dark Upsaras* flew, beneath us plashed the blood,
And, bellying black against the dust, the Bhagwa Jhanda swayed.

* The Choosers of the Slain.

I saw it fall in smoke and fire, the banner of the Bhao;
I heard a voice across the press of one who called in vain:
"Ho! Anand Rao Nimbalkhur, ride! Get aid of Mulhar Rao!
Go shame his squadrons into fight -- the Bhao -- the Bhao is slain!"

Thereat, as when a sand-bar breaks in clotted spume and spray
When rain of later autumn sweeps the Jumna water-head,
Before their charge from flank to flank our riven ranks gave way;
But of the waters of that flood the Jumna fords ran red.

I held by Scindia, my lord, as close as man might hold;
A Soobah of the Deccan asks no aid to guard his life;
But Holkar's Horse were flying, and our chiefest chiefs were cold,
And like a flame among us leapt the long lean Northern knife.

I held by Scindia -- my lance from butt to tuft was dyed,
The froth of battle bossed the shield and roped the bridle-chain
What time beneath our horses' feet a maiden rose and cried,
And clung to Scindia, and I turned a sword-cut from the twain.

(He set a spell upon the maid in woodlands long ago,
A hunter by the Tapti banks she gave him water there:
He turned her heart to water, and she followed to her woe.
What need had he of Lalun who had twenty maids as fair?)

Now in that hour strength left my lord; he wrenched his mare aside;
He bound the girl behind him and we slashed and struggled free.
Across the reeling wreck of strife we rode as shadows ride
From Paniput to Delhi town, but not alone were we.

'Twas Lutuf-Ullah Populzai laid horse upon our track,
A swine-fed reiver of the North that lusted for the maid;
I might have barred his path awhile, but Scindia called me back,
And I -- O woe for Scindia! -- I listened and obeyed.

League after league the formless scrub took shape and glided by
League after league the white road swirled behind the white mare's feet
League after league, when leagues were done, we heard the Populzai,
Where sure as Time and swift as Death the tireless footfall beat.

Noon's eye beheld that shame of flight, the shadows fell, we fled
Where steadfast as the wheeling kite he followed in our train;
The black wolf warred where we had warred, the jackal mocked our dead,
And terror born of twilight-tide made mad the labouring brain.

I gasped: -- "A kingdom waits my lord; her love is but her own.
A day shall mar, a day shall cure for her, but what for thee?
Cut loose the girl: he follows fast. Cut loose and ride alone!"
Then Scindia 'twixt his blistered lips: -- "My Queens' Queen shall she be!

"Of all who ate my bread last night 'twas she alone that came
To seek her love between the spears and find her crown therein!
One shame is mine to-day, what need the weight of double shame?
If once we reach the Delhi gate, though all be lost, I win!"

We rode -- the white mare failed -- her trot a staggering stumble grew,
The cooking-smoke of even rose and weltered and hung low;
And still we heard the Populzai and still we strained anew,
And Delhi town was very near, but nearer was the foe.

Yea, Delhi town was very near when Lalun whispered: -- "Slay!
Lord of my life, the mare sinks fast -- stab deep and let me die!"
But Scindia would not, and the maid tore free and flung away,
And turning as she fell we heard the clattering Populzai.

Then Scindia checked the gasping mare that rocked and groaned for breath,
And wheeled to charge and plunged the knife a hand's-breadth in her side
The hunter and the hunted know how that last pause is death
The blood had chilled about her heart, she reared and fell and died.

Our Gods were kind. Before he heard the maiden's piteous scream
A log upon the Delhi road, beneath the mare he lay
Lost mistress and lost battle passed before him like a dream;
The darkness closed about his eyes -- I bore my King away.