Almanac Music: ‘It’s Heartbreak Warfare’ – Songs Referencing War
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Almanac Music: ‘It’s Heartbreak Warfare’ – Songs Referencing War
Hi, Almanackers! This piece in my long-running series about key popular song themes concerns songs that in some way reference war. Add a few words of explanation to your chosen song (or songs) if you feel it’s necessary.
So, dear readers, please put your relevant ‘war’ songs in the ‘Comments’ section. Below, as usual, are some examples from me to get the ball rolling.
‘Snoopy vs. the Red Baron’, written by Phil Gernhard and Dick Holler, performed by The Royal Guardsmen (1966)
‘Smiley’, written by Johnny Young, performed by Ronnie Burns (1969)
‘Reds in My Bed’, written by Eric Stewart and Stuart Tosh, performed by 10cc (1978)
‘Lawyers in Love’, written and performed by Jackson Browne (1983)
‘War Baby’, written and performed by Tom Robinson (1983)
‘Khe Sahn’, written by Don Walker, performed by Cold Chisel (1978)
‘Summer Rain’, written by Robbie Seidman and Maria Vidal, performed by Belinda Carlisle (1990)
‘Heartbreak Warfare’, written and performed by John Mayer (2009)
…………………………………….
Now, dear readers / listeners – it’s over to you. Your responses to this topic are warmly welcomed. In the ‘Comments’ section, please add your own choice of a song (or songs) referencing war, along with any other relevant material you wish to include.
[Note: as usual, Wikipedia has been a solid general reference for this piece, particularly in terms of checking dates and other details.]
Read more from Kevin Densley HERE
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Kevin Densley is a graduate of both Deakin University and The University of Melbourne. He has taught writing and literature in numerous Victorian universities and TAFES. He is a poet and writer-in-general. His sixth book-length poetry collection, Isle Full of Noises, was published in early 2026 by Ginninderra Press. He is also the co-author of ten play collections for young people, as well as a multi Green Room Award nominated play, Last Chance Gas, published by Currency Press. Other writing includes screenplays for educational films.
Those that came to mind are:
‘Masters of War’ – Bob Dylan
‘A Hard Rains Gonna Fall’ – Bob Dylan
‘Blowing in the Wind’ – Bob Dylan
‘Universal Soldier’ – Donovan
‘Sky Pilot’ – Eric Burdon & the Animals
‘The Cruel War’ – Peter, Paul & Mary
Thanks for opening the batting with these sixties classics, Col. Spot on! ( Or should I say, in keeping with that era, ‘Right on!’)
I’ll defer to Slim Dusty’s, Gumtrees by the Roadway.
I’d like to tell my story
In a simple kind of way
It’s happened to many hundreds
In this war-torn world today
I heard the call for duty
So I donned the khaki suit
And I marched ‘way past the gumtrees
And the willows by the creek.
Glen!
Thanks for opening the batting with Col, Glen. It’s always good to get some Slim on one of our themed songlists.
There’s a fair few Clash songs that mention war in their title,and/or refer to it in their lyrics.
English Civil War is an obvious title. The following are a few referring to war: Sean Flynn, Guns of Brixton, London Calling, Tommy Gun, The Call Up, Charlie Don’t Surf, Hate and War, Ivan meet GI Joe,Spanish Bombs, Straight to Hell, Washington bullets; I wonder what have I left out, there are others.
Of course the Combat Rock album fits in here, also probably Sandinista as the Sandinistas overthrew the corrupt Nicaraguan Government. Whoops, one can’t leave out London Calling.
Glen!
Good Friday morning Kevin
This 1963 Dylan song was written when US/Russian tensions were peaking over potential atomic weapons in Cuba; here we are some 63 years later and the tensions over nuclear weapons are still evident, although the actors (including the US) are different. For most of us, we should be very grateful for the relative peace during our lifetimes.
Talkin’ World War III Blues
‘Some time ago a crazy dream came to me
I dreamt I was walkin’ into World War Three’
A day in the life: The Beatles
(We want) the same thing: Belinda Carlisle
In old England town: Electric Light Orchestra
Kuiama: Electric Light Orchestra
Radiate: Fleming and John
A place called love: Fleming and John
Missing the war: Ben Folds Five
Dear Mama: Kelly Groucutt
Don’t put your boys in the army Mrs Ward: Idle Race
Alcatraz: Idle Race
Happy Xmas (War is over): John Lennon
U.S Forces: Midnight Oil
Question: Moody Blues
Before we go: Orchestra
I was only 19: Redgum
I don’t get out much anymore: James Reyne
Lay your weary head down: James Reyne
Turn! Turn! Tum! (To everything there is a season): Pete Seeger (original, but numerous other versions including the Byrds and the Seekers)
Scarborough Fair/Canticle: Simon and Garfunkel
C’est Le Bon: Supertramp
Escape from the Citadel: Tandy and Morgan
Midnight Oil: “When the Generals Talk”, “Forgotten Years”, “Put Down That Weapon”, “Armistice Day”, “Short Memory”, “Hercules”.
Pogues: “The Recruiting Sergeant” (let English men fight English wars),
“And the Band played Waltzing Matilda”
Thanks, Glen, for your excellent compilation of Clash ‘war songs’ – this new theme in our series seems made for them.
Good Friday morning to you, too, Karl. Many thanks for Dylan’s iconic ‘Talkin’ World War III Blues’.
A fine ‘war’ list from you, thanks Liam. (Yes, I got in before you with Carlisle’s ‘Summer Rain’.)
Thanks for your selections, Smokie – and yes, the Oils are certainly important when it comes to ‘songs referencing war’.
Oliver’s Army – Elvis Costello and the Attractions
Commando – Ramones
Blitzkrieg Bop – Ramones
Between The Wars – Billy Bragg
Rumours of War – Billy Bragg
War Pigs – Black Sabbath
World War 3 – XL Capris
War – Edwin Starr
The War Song – Culture Club
Levi Stubbs’ Tears – Billy Bragg
“She ran away from home in her mother’s best coat
She was married before she was even entitled to vote
And her husband was one of those blokes
The sort that only laughs at his own jokes
The sort a war takes away
And when there wasn’t a war he left anyway”
Wars or Hands of Time – Masters Apprentices
Dying For My Country At The War – Models
Tug Of War – Paul McCartney
Life During Wartime – Talking Heads
Rachel – Russell Morris
“The men here die like flies ma
I bandaged their blinded eyes ma
And the kids with their aching feet
Ain’t got nothing to eat ma
The hospital has no door dad
Soldiers lie on the floor dad
Oh I did my best
But I can’t take anymore dad
Rachel’s coming home
Rachel’s coming home
And I don’t think she’ll go away again
Rachel’s seen the light
The world is too thick to fight
And I don’t think she’ll go away again”
“The General” by Dispatch is a classic…
I have seen the others
And I have discovered
That this fight is not worth fighting
And I’ve seen their mothers
And I will no other
To follow me where I’m going…
Thanks for your excellent batch of choices, Swish. ‘Oliver’s Army’, to pick out just one, would have to be among my favourite ‘war songs’ ever, with its clever lyrics and great melody.
Thanks for ‘The General’, Edward.
I’ll throw in another early (1963) Dylan ‘outtake’:
John Brown
‘When John Brown went off to war to fight on a foreign shore
His mama sure was proud of him’…
~~~~~~~
“Lord, I thought when I was there, God, what am I doing here?
I’m a-tryin’ to kill somebody or die tryin’
But the thing that scared me most was when my enemy came close
And I saw that his face looked just like mine”
Thanks for this early Dylan outtake, Karl. Right on the money!
With so many outtakes over his career – and including the ‘intakes’ – it seems that Bob just about lived in the recording studio, at least at certain times.
I saw Jesse Welles at the Corner in January, what a show. He rose to prominence over the las 18 months as a modern era protest singer. His songs pack a wallop! Here’s a few:
War Isn’t Murder – War isn’t murder/Good men don’t die/Children don’t starve/And all women survive/War isn’t murder/That’s what they?say/When?you’re fighting the?devil/Murder’s okay/War isn’t murder/They’re called casualties/There?ain’t a veteran/With a good night’s sleep/Let’s talk about dead people/I mean a dead people/The dead don’t feel honored/They don’t feel that brave/They don’t feel avenged/They’re lucky if they got grav?s
No Kings (with Joan Baez no less) – No hatred, no violence, no starvation, and no greed/And no kings, no kings, no kings/No lies, no bullets, no bombs, and no need/And no kings, no kings, no kings/No walls, no judgements, no oppression cowering/No kings, no kings, no kings/Every color, every culture, every language, every creed/No kings, no kings, no kings
God, Abraham and Xanax – God said unto Abraham, “Take this Xanax bar/Don’t talk no more about all of the war/And the cancer goin’ on”/Next day, Abe’d thought he’d bring it up/At the local town hall/He said that the air’s hard to breathe/And the water ain’t clean/They said, “We’re forwardin’ your call”/He was on hold/For three days straight/When Jesus picked up the line/He said, “Don’t question the guns/And if you wanna have fun/Just be grateful that I’m on your side”
Independence Day – Pay your taxes and shut up/No telling what kinda bomb they’ll buy/And send it in the mail/To some war-torn hell/But at least you know you know you’re on the right side, hell yeah
The Debate II: The Empire Strikes Back – We’re gonna save the d-e-m-o-c-r-a-c-y/Why, oh, why/Would you ever believe/A single word they tell you or me?/They’re bloodthirsty for power/And we’re all in the way/You’d have to be insane/To play the games they play/But nobody forgot where they was/And no one got shot/If you set the bar low/You’ll be happy with what ya got/We owe, we owe/So it’s off to war we go/We owe/So it’s off to war we go
Thanks, Rick, for your Jesse Welles five – as interesting and relevant as ever, mate.
Ben McCulloch
Steve Earle’s song about the American Civil War.
“Well they told us that our enemy would all be dressed in blue
They forgot about the winter’s cold and cursed fever too”
and
“I killed a boy the other night who’d never even shaved
I don’t even know what I’m fightin’ for, I ain’t never owned a slave”
Thanks, Peter C, for your contribution. This war theme has such scope. Keep ’em coming!
Before I start my list, I know that Smokie has already mentioned The Pogues version of “And the Band Played Waltzing Matilda”, but I think it should be acknowledged that the song was written and first recorded by Eric Bogle. There have been many other versions recorded since but none has equalled Eric’s version.
And speaking of Eric Bogle – No Man’s Land (final two verses)
The sun’s shining down on these green fields of France;
The warm wind blows gently, and the red poppies dance.
The trenches have vanished long under the plow;
No gas and no barbed wire, no guns firing now.
But here in this graveyard that’s still No Man’s Land
The countless white crosses in mute witness stand
To man’s blind indifference to his fellow man.
And a whole generation who were butchered and damned.
And I can’t help but wonder, now Willie McBride,
Do all those who lie here know why they died?
Did you really believe them when they told you “The Cause?”
Did you really believe that this war would end wars?
Well the suffering, the sorrow, the glory, the shame
The killing, the dying, it was all done in vain,
For Willie McBride, it all happened again,
And again, and again, and again, and again.
Bob Dylan was the greatest protest singer of the early sixties, but it was his contemporary, Phil Ochs who waged a relentless campaign against America’s invasion of Vietnam and the wasted lives of young Americans.
Talking Vietnam (written in 1963)
Sailing over to Vietnam,
Southeast Asian Birmingham.
Well training is the word we use,
Nice word to have in case we lose.
Training a million Vietnamese
To fight for the wrong government and the American Way.
Well they put me in a barracks house
Just across the way from Laos.
They said you’re pretty safe when the troops deploy
But don’t turn your back on your house boy
When they ring the gong, watch out for the Viet-Cong.
Well the sergeant said it’s time to train
So I climbed aboard my helicopter plane.
We flew above the battle ground
A sniper tried to shoot us down.
He must have forgotten, we’re only trainees.
Them Commies never fight fair.
Friends the very next day we trained some more
We burned some villages down to the floor.
Yes we burned out the jungles far and wide,
Made sure those red apes had no place left to hide.
Threw all the people in relocation camps,
Under lock and key, made damn sure they’re free.
Draft Dodger Rag
Oh, I’m just a typical American boy
From a typical American town
I believe in God and Senator Dodd
And a-keepin’ old Castro down
And when it came my time to serve
I knew, “Better dead than red”
But when I got to my old draft board, buddy
This is what I said
“Sarge, I’m only eighteen, I got a ruptured spleen
And I always carry a purse
I’ve got eyes like a bat and my feet are flat
My asthma’s getting worse”
“Yes, think of my career, my sweetheart dear
And my poor old invalid aunt
Besides, I ain’t no fool, I’m a-goin’ to school
And I’m working in a defense plant”
(first verse and chorus, below is the last verse)
“Ooh, I hate Chou En Lai and I hope he dies
But one thing you gotta see
That someone’s gotta go over there
And that someone isn’t me”
“So I wish you well, sarge, give ’em hell
Kill me a thousand or so
And if you ever get a war without blood and gore
I’ll be the first to go”
I Ain’t Marching Anymore
(I have posted some of the lyrics in a previous thread)
White Boots Marching In a Yellow Land
(One of the best songs ever written about the Americans [and Australians] in Vietnam
The pilots playing poker in the cockpit of the plane
The casualties arriving like the dropping of the rain
And a mountain of machinery will fall before a man
When you’re white boots marching in a yellow land
It’s written in the ashes of the village towns we burn
It’s written in the empty bed of the fathers unreturned
And the chocolate in the children’s eyes will never understand
When you’re white boots marching in a yellow land
Red blow the bugles of the dawn
The morning has arrived you must be gone
And the lost patrol chase their chartered souls
Like old whores following tired armies
Train them well, the men who will be fighting by your side
And never turn your back if the battle turns the tide
For the colours of a civil war are louder than commands
When you’re white boots marching in a yellow land
Blow them from the forest and burn them from your sight
Tie their hands behind their backs and question through the night
But when the firing squad is ready they’ll be spitting where they stand
At the white boots marching in a yellow land
Red blow the bugles of the dawn
The morning has arrived you must be gone
And the lost patrol chase their chartered souls
Like old whores following tired armies
The comic and the beauty queen are dancing on the stage
Raw recruits are lining up like coffins in a cage
We’re fighting in a war we lost before the war began
We’re the white boots marching in a yellow land
And the lost patrol chase their chartered souls
Like old whores following tired armies
The War Is Over (written by Phil in 1968, when it wasn’t)
Silent soldiers on a silver screen
Framed in fantasies and dragged in dream
Unpaid actors of the mystery
The mad director knows that freedom will not make you free
And what’s this got to do with me
I declare the war is over
It’s over, it’s over
Drums are drizzling on a grain of sand
Fading rhythms of a fading land
Prove your courage in the proud parade
Trust your leaders where mistakes are almost never made
And they’re afraid that I’m afraid
I’m afraid the war is over
It’s over, it’s over
Angry artists painting angry signs
Use their vision just to blind the blind
Poisoned players of a grizzly game
One is guilty and the other gets the point to blame
Pardon me if I refrain
I declare the war is over
It’s over, it’s over
So do your duty, boys, and join with pride
Serve your country in her suicide
Find the flags so you can wave goodbye
But just before the end even treason might be worth a try
This country is to young to die
I declare the war is over
It’s over, it’s over
One-legged veterans will greet the dawn
And they’re whistling marches as they mow the lawn
And the gargoyles only sit and grieve
The gypsy fortune teller told me that we’d been deceived
You only are what you believe
I believe the war is over
It’s over, it’s over
I have lots more songs about lots more wars which I will post later if others haven’t beaten me to it.
I Feel Like I’m Fixin’ To Die Rag – Country Joe and the Fish
“Well come on Wall Street don’t move slow
Why man, this is war-a-go-go
There’s plenty good money to be made
By supplying the Army with the tools of the trade
Just hope and pray that if they drop the bomb
They drop it on the Viet Cong
And it’s 1, 2, 3
What are we fighting for?
Don’t ask me, I don’t give a damn
Next stop is Vietnam
And it’s 5, 6, 7
Open up the pearly gates
Well, there ain’t no time to wonder why
Whoopee!
We’re all gonna die”
Shoplifters of the World – Smiths
“Learn to love me
And assemble the ways
Now, today, tomorrow and always
My only weakness is listed crime
But last night the plans for a future war
Was all I saw on Channel Four
Shoplifters of the world
Unite and take over
Shoplifters of the world
Hand it over, hand it over, hand it over”
Brilliant war-themed material – thanks so much, Dave. I did read it thoroughly and couldn’t help but think about a precious anthology of First World War poetry (including Owen, Sassoon etc) I have had in my possession since my school days – some of the best songs about war are on a par with this kind of classic war poetry, I feel.
Thanks, Swish, for the iconic ‘I Feel Like I’m Fixin’ To Die Rag’, as well as the highly apt ‘Shoplifters of the World’ by The Smiths.
Arkansas Grass-Axiom
Great set of The Clash songs by Glen and he did ask, what have I left out. Here’s a few:
The Card Cheat
Rebel Waltz
Something About England
Corner Soul
Career Opportunities
Guns on the Roof
Rock the Casbah
Inoculated City
Cheers
Thanks, Rick, for adding substantially to Glen’s list of ‘songs referencing war’ by The Clash. Great stuff!
Axiom’s ‘Arkansas Grass’ is a fine, highly fitting selection – thanks, Timsy.
Gary Shearston – The Lost Soldier
In December 1964
In a foreign land there waged a war
But here at home a young man wed
And to Windsor town, his young life led
Six months did pass to the month of June
When the bands did play a marching tune
From his loving wife he was forced to go
The reason why, he was soon to know
A soldier boy he was to be
In that foreign land across the sea
To fight a war that was not his own
To leave his young wife all alone
He was soon transported overseas
And into battle he went most cautiously
He was not afraid, he was brave and strong
But he hoped that the war would not be long
Then to Windsor Town there came one day
A photograph from far away
And with… a message came
And the young girl smiled as she read his name
Then the weeks did pass and it was Spring
And another letter they did bring
But for his name she searched in vain
For a soldier boy was in battle slain
Oh in Vietnam in a field he died
He was not a violent man she cried
He never was a true soldier
And she held his picture close to her
Oh they made him carry a gun
She knew he never could kill anyone
And she told us all, as she closed her door
He should never had fought in this terrible war
Lyndon Johnson Told the Nation – Tom Paxton
I got a letter from L.B.J
It said, “This is your lucky day”
It’s time to put your khaki trousers on
Though it may seem very queer
We’ve got no jobs to give you here
So we are sending you to Vietnam
Lyndon Johnson told the nation
Have no fear of escalation
I am trying everyone to please
Though it isn’t really war
We’re sending fifty thousand more
To help save Vietnam from the Vietnamese
I jumped off the old troop ship
And sank in mud up to my hips
I cussed until the captain called me down
Never mind how hard it’s raining
Think of all the ground we’re gaining
Just don’t take one step outside of town
Lyndon Johnson told the nation
Have no fear of escalation
I am trying everyone to please
Though it isn’t really war
We’re sending fifty thousand more
To help save Vietnam from the Vietnamese
Every night the local gentry
Slip out past the sleeping sentry
They go to join the old VC
In their nightly little dramas
They put on their black pyjamas
And come lobbing mortar shells at me
When Lyndon Johnson told the nation
Have no fear of escalation
I am trying everyone to please
Though it isn’t really war
We’re sending fifty thousand more
To help save Vietnam from the Vietnamese
We go round in helicopters
Like a bunch of big grasshoppers
Searching for the Viet Cong in vain
They left a note that they had gone
They had to get down to Saigon
Their government positions to maintain
And Lyndon Johnson told the nation
Have no fear of escalation
I am trying everyone to please
Though it isn’t really war
We’re sending fifty thousand more
To help save Vietnam from the Vietnamese
Well, here I sit in this rice paddy
Wondering about Big Daddy
And I know that Lyndon loves me so
Yet how sadly I remember
Way back yonder in November
When he said I’d never have to go
And Lyndon Johnson told the nation
Have no fear of escalation
I am trying everyone to please
Though it isn’t really war
We’re sending fifty thousand more
To help save Vietnam from the Vietnamese.
King Henry – Pete Seeger
King Henry marched forth, a sword in his hand
Two thousand horsemen all at his command
In a fortnight the rivers ran
Red through the land
The year fifteen hundred and twenty
The year it is now nineteen sixty-five
It’s easier far to stay half-alive
Just keep your mouth shut while
The planes zoom and dive
Ten thousand miles over the ocean
Simon was drafted in sixty-three
In sixty-four, sent over the sea
Last month this letter he sent to me
He said “You won’t like what I’m sayin'”
He said “We’ve no friends here
No hardly a one
We’ve got a few generals who
Just want our guns
But it’ll take more than that
If we’re ever to win
Why we’ll have to flatten the country”
“It’s my own troops I have
To watch out for”, he said
“I sleep with a pistol right under my head”
He wrote this last month
Last week he was dead
And Simon came home in a casket
I mind my own business, I watch my TV
Complain about taxes but pay anyway
In a civilized manner my forefathers betrayed
Who long ago struggled for freedom
But each day a new headline
Screams at my bluff
On TV some general says “We must be tough”
In my dreams I stare at this family I love
All gutted and spattered with napalm
King Henry marched forth, a sword in his hand
Two thousand horsemen all at his command
In a fortnight the rivers ran
Red through the land
The year fifteen hundred and twenty
The year it is now nineteen sixty-five
It’s easier far to stay half alive
Just keep your mouth shut while
The planes zoom and dive
Ten thousand miles over the ocean
The Universal Soldier – Buffy Sainte-Marie
(Recorded also by Donovan, who had a hit with it, and Glen Campbell, but Buffy wrote the song and I prefer her version.)
He’s five feet two and he’s six feet four
He fights with missiles and with spears
He’s all of thirty-one and he’s only seventeen
He’s been a soldier for a thousand years
He’s a Catholic, a Hindu, an Atheist, a Jain
A Buddhist and a Baptist and a Jew
And he knows he shouldn’t kill, and he knows he always will
Kill you for me, my friend, and me for you
And he’s fighting for Canada, he’s fighting for France
He’s fighting for the USA
And he’s fighting for the Russians, and he’s fighting for Japan
And he thinks we’ll put an end to war this way
And he’s fighting for democracy, he’s fighting for the Reds
He says it’s for the peace of all
He’s the one who must decide who’s to live and who’s to die
And he never sees the writing on the wall
But without him, how would Hitler have condemned him at Dachau?
Without him, Caesar would have stood alone
He’s the one who gives his body as a weapon of the war
And without him, all this killing can’t go on
He’s the universal soldier and he really is to blame
His orders come from far away, no more
They come from him and you and me, and brothers, can’t you see?
This is not the way we put an end to war
Also Galveston – Glen Campbell written by Jimmy Webb which is about an American soldier in Vietnam without mentioning the place..
Born in the USA – Bruce Springsteen
Born down in a dead man’s town
The first kick I took was when I hit the ground
End up like a dog that’s been beat too much
‘Til you spend half your life just to cover it up now
Born in the USA
I was born in the USA
I was born in the USA
Born in the USA, now
Got in a little hometown jam
So they put a rifle in my hands
Send me off to a foreign land
To go and kill the yellow man
Born in the USA
I was born in the USA
Born in the USA
I was born in the USA
Come back home to the refinery
The man said, “Son, if it was up to me”
Went down to see my V.A. man
He said, “Son, don’t you understand, now?”
Oh, yeah
No, no
No, no, no
I had a brother at Khe Sanh
Fightin’ off them Viet Cong
They’re still there, he’s all gone
He had a woman he loved in Saigon
I got a picture of him in her arms now
The next set will be about Wars other than Vietnam.
Richard Thompson’s Al Bowlly’s in Heaven is similar to Born In the USA in dealing with the neglect of the returned soldier .Al Bowlly was a crooner killed by a bomb in London in1941. One of his songs is played over the final scene in The Shining.
Here are the lyrics:
Well we were heroes then, and the girls were all pretty
And a uniform was a lucky charm, bought you the key to the city
We used to dance the whole night through
While Al Bowlly sang “The Very Thought Of You”
Now Bowlly’s in heaven and I’m in limbo now
Well I gave my youth to king and country
But what’s my country done for me but sentenced me to misery
I traded my helmet and my parachute
For a pair of crutches and a demob suit
Al Bowlly’s in heaven and I’m in limbo now
Hard times, hard hard times
Hostels and missions and dosser’s soup lines
Can’t close me eyes on a bench or a bed
For the sound of some battle raging in my head
Old friends, you lose so many
You get run around, all over town
The wear and the tear, oh it just drives you down
St Mungo’s with its dirty old sheets
Beats standing all day down on Scarborough Street
Al Bowlly’s in heaven and I’m in limbo now
Can’t stay here, you got to foot-slog
Once in a blue moon you might find a job
Sleep in the rain, you sleep in the snow
When the beds are all taken you’ve got nowhere to go
Well I can see me now, I’m back there on the dance floor
Oh with a blonde on me arm, red-head to spare
Spit on my shoes and shine in me hair
And there’s Al Bowlly, he’s up on a stand
Oh that was a voice and that was a band
Al Bowlly’s in heaven and I’m in limbo now
A couple from a 19 year old Donovan –
The Ballad Of The Crystal Man (1965)
On the quilted battlefields of soldiers dazzling made of toy tin
The big bomb like a child’s hand could sweep them dead just so to win
For seagull I don’t want your wings
I don’t want your freedom in a lie
The War Drags On (1965)
Let me tell you the story of a soldier named Dan
Went out to fight the good fight in South Vietnam
Went out to fight for peace, liberty and all
Went out to fight for equality, hope, let’s go
And the war drags on
More great selections – thanks, Dave. One category of theme-appropriate songs I really like is those that relate to the particular theme in an entirely apt, yet not especially overt fashion, like ‘Galveston’ – or, for that matter, ‘Last Train To Clarkesville’ with its even subtler reference to (the Vietnam) war – for example, its last line ‘And I don’t know if I’m ever coming home.’
Richard Thompson’s ‘Al Bowlly’s in Heaven’ is a fine selection, thanks Timsy – what great lyrics!
Thank you for the ‘young Donovan’ duo, Karl – excellently on-theme, as usual!
Some songs from World War II
The Sinking of the Rueben James – Woody Guthrie
Have you heard of a ship called the good Reuben James
Manned by hard fighting men both of honor and fame?
She flew the Stars and Stripes of the land of the free
But tonight she’s in her grave at the bottom of the sea.
Tell me what were their names, tell me what were their names,
Did you have a friend on the good Reuben James?
What were their names, tell me, what were their names?
Did you have a friend on the good Reuben James
Well, a hundred men went down in that dark watery grave
When that good ship went down only forty-four were saved.
‘Twas the last day of October we saved the forty-four
From the cold ocean waters and the cold icy shore.
It was there in the dark of that uncertain night
That we watched for the U-boats and waited for a fight.
Then a whine and a rock and a great explosion roared
And they laid the Reuben James on that cold ocean floor.
Now tonight there are lights in our country so bright
In the farms and in the cities they’re telling of the fight.
And now our mighty battleships will steam the bounding main
And remember the name of that good Reuben James.
Browned Off – Ewan McColl (This WWII song is attributed to McColl, although I am not sure whether he wrote it or collected it)
I used to be a silly chum, as decent as can be,
I used to think a workin’ lad had a man’s right to be free
But then they made a lousy soldier out of me
And told me I had got to save Democracy.
Oh I was browned off, browned off, browned off as can be,
Browned off, browned off, an easy mark, that’s me.
But when this war is over and again I’m free
There’ll be no more trips around the world for me.
They stuck me in a convict suit, they made me cut me hair
They took me civvie shoes away they gave me another pair
Instead of grub they gave me slush and plenty of fresh air
And this was all to help me save Democracy
Now every day I’m on parade long before the dawn
And every day I curse the bloody day that I was born.
But I am just a browned-off soldier, anyone can see
They browned me off to help to save Democracy.
The medical inspection, boys,is just a bleedin’ farce
He gropes around your penis and he noses up your arse.
But even a private’s privates, boys, enjoy no privacy
You sacrifice all that to save democracy.
The colonel kicks the major, then the major has a go
He kicks the poor old captain who then kicks the NCO,
And as the kicks get harder, the poor old private, you can see,
Gets kicked to bloody hell to save Democracy.
The Ballad of the D Day Dodgers (written By Major Hamish Henderson of the 51st Highland division according to Wikipaedia after British politician Nacy Astor accused the Eighth (British) Army of “Dodging D Day and the fighting in France) It is sung to the tune of Lili Marleen)
We are the D-Day Dodgers,
Out in Italy,
Always on the vino,
Always on the spree.
Eighth Army skivers and their tanks,
We live in Rome among the Yanks
For we are the D-Day Dodgers,
In sunny Italy.
We landed at Salerno,
A holiday with pay.
Jerry brought his bands out
To cheer us on his way,
Showed us the sights and gave us tea,
We all sang songs, the beer was free.
For we are the D-Day Dodgers,
The lads that D-Day dodged.
Palermo and Cassino
Were taken in our stride,
We did not go to fight there,
We just went for the ride.
Anzio and Sangro are just names,
We only went to look for dames,
For we are the D-Day Dodgers,
In sunny Italy.
On our way to Florence,
We had a lovely time,
We drove a bus from Rimini,
Right through the Gothic Line,
Then to Bologna we did go,
And went bathing in the River Po,
For we are the D-Day Dodgers,
The lads that D-Day dodged
We hear the boys in France
Are going home on leave,
After all of six months service, its time for their reprieve
But we can carry on out here another two or three more years
.Contented D-Day Dodgers,
To stay in Italy
Dear Lady Astor,
You think you know a lot,
Standing on a platform
And talking tommy rot.
You’re England’s sweetheart and her pride,
We think your mouth is too bleeding wide
That’s from your D-Day Dodgers,
In sunny Italy.
Look around the hillsides,
Through the mist and rain,
See the scattered crosses,
Some that bear no name.
Heartbreak and toil and suffering gone,
The lads beneath, they slumber on.
They are the D-Day Dodgers,
Who’ll stay in Italy.
Pink Floyd – Wish You Were Here (1975)
Did you exchange
A walk-on part in the war
for a lead role in a cage?
Thank you, Dave, for the trio of World War 2 songs – a highly interesting and thematically apt bunch, to be sure.
Thanks, Karl, for ‘Wish You Were Here’ and the telling snippet from its lyrics.
A few more …
‘The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down’ – let’s go with the Joan Baez 1971 version
‘Generals and Majors – XTC (1980)
Love is a Battlefield’ – Pat Benatar (1983)
‘Zombie’ – Cranberries (1994)
Can’t believe that I missed Generals and Majors, but here’s couple more
Dear God – XTC
“Dear God, I can’t believe in-
I don’t believe in-
I won’t believe in Heaven and Hell
No saints, no sinners, no devil as well
No pearly gates, no thorny crown
You’re always letting us humans down
The wars you bring, the babes you drown
Those lost at sea and never found
And it’s the same the whole world ’round
The hurt I see helps to compound
The Father, Son, and Holy Ghost
Is just somebody’s unholy hoax
And if you’re up there, you’ll perceive
That my heart’s here upon my sleeve
If there’s one thing I don’t believe in
It’s you
Dear God”
Travels In Nihilon – XTC
“Travels, travels in Nihilon
A war, a war, a warrior, a warrior, a warrior
We’ve seen no Jesus come and gone
A war, a war, a warrior, a warrior, a warrior”
Thank you for the additional XTC numbers, Swish – this war theme is perhaps one of the most ‘encompassing’ (for want of a better word) ones yet.
Shipbuilding – Elvis Costello and the Attractions
American Squirm – Nick Lowe
“I made an American squirm
And it feel so right
On the screen was the musical war
Deep deep into the night”
36 inches High – Nick Lowe
“Once I was a soldier
rode on a big white horse
Silver pistols at my side
Carryin’ the flags of war
And I Iost track of the men who fell
In the canon’s roar
never got over bein’ a soldier”
Nobody Takes Me Seriously – Split Enz
“If war broke out I’d be the last one to know
If there was a fire they’d just leave me to burn
I got just as much to say as any man
But I never seem to get my turn
I don’t want to suffer these conditions no more
Haven’t I the right to say
I don’t want to suffer these conditions no more
Nobody takes me seriously anyway
Nobody takes me seriously anyway
Nobody takes me seriously anyway”
Five songs from Steve Earle (more to come) that consider war from multiple perspectives with grim insight, sharp eyed humour and a compassionate heart:
Copperhead Road
Johnny Come Lately
Mercenary Song
John Walker’s Blues
Home to Houston
Thanks for your latest quartet of choices, Swish – keep ’em coming! Young Declan is certainly one of the heroes of our themed songlists, isn’t he?
Thank you, Rick, for the Earle quintet – yes, this war theme certainly makes possible many perspectives, as you indicate.
I was going to continue posting songs from specific wars and I will later, but I want to post a few songs from the last fifty years.
Your Flag Decal Won’t Get You into Heaven Anymore – John Prine
But your flag decal won’t get you
Into Heaven any more.
They’re already overcrowded
From your dirty little war.
Now Jesus don’t like killin’
No matter what the reason’s for,
And your flag decal won’t get you
Into Heaven any more.
Hello In There – John Prine
We had an apartment in the city
And me and Loretta liked living there
Well, it’d been years since the kids had grown
A life of their own
And left us alone
John and Linda live in Omaha
And Joe is somewhere on the road
We lost Davy in the Korean War
And I still don’t know what for
Don’t matter anymore
Red Dirt Girl – Emmylou Harris.
She loved her brother I remember back when
He was fixin’ up a ’49 Indian
He told her, “Little sister, gonna ride the wind
Up around the moon and back again”
He never got farther than Vietnam
I was standin’ there with her
When the telegram come for Lillian
Now he’s lyin’ somewhere
About a million miles from Meridian
Travelin’ Soldier – The Chicks (I love this song)
Two days past eighteen
He was waiting for the bus in his army green
Sat down in a booth in a café there
Gave his order to a girl with a bow in her hair
He’s a little shy so she give him a smile
And he said, “Would you mind sittin’ down for a while
And talking to me?
I’m feeling a little low.”
She said, “I’m off in an hour and I know where we can go.”
So they went down and they sat on the pier
He said, “I bet you got a boyfriend but I don’t care.
I got no one to send a letter to.
Would you mind if I sent one back here to you?”
I cried
Never gonna hold the hand of another guy
Too young for him they told her
Waitin’ for the love of a travelin’ soldier
Our love will never end
Waitin’ for the soldier to come back again
Never more to be alone when the letter said
A soldier’s coming home
So the letters came from an army camp
In California then Vietnam
And he told her of his heart
It might be love and all of the things he was so scared of
He said, “When it’s getting kinda rough over here,
I think of that day sittin’ down at the pier.
And I close my eyes and see your pretty smile.
Don’t worry, but I won’t be able to write for awhile.”
I cried
Never gonna hold the hand of another guy
Too young for him they told her
Waitin’ for the love of a travelin’ soldier
Our love will never end
Waitin’ for the soldier to come back again
Never more to be alone when the letter said
A soldier’s coming home
One Friday night at a football game
The Lord’s Prayer said and the Anthem sang
A man said, “Folks would you bow your heads
For a list of local Vietnam dead.”
Crying all alone under the stands
Was a piccolo player in the marching band
And one name read but nobody really cared
But a pretty little girl with a bow in her hair
I cried
Never gonna hold the hand of another guy
Too young for him they told her
Waitin’ for the love of a travelin’ soldier
Our love will never end
Waitin’ for the soldier to come back again
Never more to be alone when the letter said
A soldier’s coming home
Sky Pilot – The Animals
He blesses the boys as they stand in line
The smell of gun grease and the bayonets they shine
He’s there to help them all that he can
To make them feel wanted he’s a good holy man
Sky pilot…..sky pilot
How high can you fly
You’ll never, never, never reach the sky
He smiles at the young soldiers
Tells them its all right
He knows of their fear in the forthcoming fight
Soon there’ll be blood and many will die
Mothers and fathers back home they will cry
Sky pilot…..sky pilot
How high can you fly
You’ll never, never, never reach the sky
He mumbles a prayer and it ends with a smile
The order is given
They move down the line
But he’ll stay behind and he’ll meditate
But it won’t stop the bleeding or ease the hate
As the young men move out into the battle zone
He feels good, with God you’re never alone
He feels tired and he lays on his bed
Hopes the men will find courage in the words that he said
Sky pilot…..sky Pilot
How high can you fly
You’ll never, never, never reach the sky
(Interlude)
You’re soldiers of God you must understand
The fate of your country is in your young hands
May God give you strength
Do your job real well
If it all was worth it
Only time it will tell
In the morning they return
With tears in their eyes
The stench of death drifts up to the skies
A young soldier so ill looks at the sky pilot
Remembers the words
“Thou shalt not kill”
Sky pilot…..sky pilot
How high can you fly
You never, never, never reach the sky
God is on My Side – Tony Christie (Recorded in 1971, it wasn’t a hit but I found the first two lines and the chorus compelling and have never forgotten it)
Today, after chow
I went out and killed a man
Oh, sweet Christ in heaven, still, my shaking hand
I see little towns tumble down in sheets of flame
Oh, sweet Christ in heaven
Still, my shaking hand
I see little towns tumble down in sheets of flame
Oh, what am I into?
Oh, where is my shame?
(pre-chorus)
They tell me God is on my side
Sitting high on my shoulder, all the way
That means anything I do, is A-OK
(chorus)
As long as God is on my side
Then, commandment number six don?t mean a thing
Well, if God is on my side, in this war
I don’t want no part of Him
Can’t recall Tim Buckley ever being mentioned in this lyrics series ~ so here’s…..
Tim Buckley – No Man Can Find The War (1967)
‘Photographs of guns and flame
Scarlet skull and distant game
Bayonet and jungle grin
Nightmares dreamed by bleeding men
Lookouts tremble on the shore
But no man can find the war’
The Ballad of Ira Hayes – Johnny Cash et al
Singing In Vietnam Talking Blue – Johnny Cash
Battle of New Orleans – Johnny Horton et al
Thanks for your latest excellent material, Dave – Prine, Harris, et al.
(Just noting that Col Ritchie listed ‘Sky Pilot’ in his opening foray – but you did take matters a step further by including the lyrics.)
Thank you, Karl, for ‘No Man Can Find The War’.
Thanks, Swish, for your most recent batch. To pick out just one; for whatever reason, I heard Horton’s New Orleans song a great deal in my childhood – and liked it quite a bit (still do).
An old favourite of mine ~ Alice’s Restaurant (1967)
‘If you want to end war and stuff you got to sing loud.
I’ve been singing this song now for twenty five minutes. I could sing it
for another twenty five minutes. I’m not proud… or tired.’
And another Dylan number ~ With God On Our Side (1964)
‘If God’s on our side
He’ll stop the next war’
Thanks for your latest input, Karl – a bit of Arlo Guthrie, a bit of Bob … what’s not to like?
Apologies to Col, I didn’t look the previous posts before my last posting.
Military madness – Graham Nash
In an upstairs room in Blackpool
By the side of a northern sea
The army had my father
And my mother was having me
Military Madness was killing my country
Solitary Sadness comes over me
After the school was over and I moved
To the other side
I found a different country but I never
Lost my pride
Military Madness was killing the country
Solitary sadness creeps over me
And after the wars are over
And the body count is finally filed
I hope that The Man discovers
What’s driving the people wild
Military madness is killing your country
So much sadness, between you and me
.Johnny Has Gone for a Soldier – Irish folk song, lots of versions, Peter, Paul and Mary, James Taylor , This version recorded by Pete Seeger. Several titles including Buttermilk Hill and Shule Agra.
Here I sit on Buttermilk Hill
Here I sit and cry my fill
And my tears could turn a mill
Johnny has gone for a soldier
Siul siul siul a gra
Me, oh my, I loved him so
But only time will heal my woe
Johnny has gone for a soldier
I’ll sell my rod, I’ll sell my reel
To buy my love a sword and shield
But now he lays murdered on the field
Johnny has gone for a soldier
Siul siul siul a gra
Me, oh my, I love him so
But only time will heal my woe
Johnny has gone for a soldier
Off to lunch, More songs later.
Neil Young has a 2006 album titled ‘Living With War’ – here’s a few lyrics from the title track:
‘I’m living with war every day
I’m living with war in my heart every day
I’m living with war right now’
And, as if the USA didn’t learn from recent history….here is ‘Shock & Awe’
‘Back in the days of shock and awe
We came to liberate them all
History was the cruel judge of overconfidence
Back in the days of shock and awe’
And another – Flags Of Freedom
‘Today’s the day our younger son
Is going off to war
Fighting in the age old battle
We sometimes won before
Flags that line old Main Street
Are blowing in the wind
These must be the flags of freedom flyin’
Thanks for ‘Military Madness’ and ‘Johnny Has Gone for a Soldier’ (including its other titles), Dave.
Thank you for your Neil Young trio, Karl – like Bob, he’s an excellent friend of our themed songlists.
Gates Of Eden – Dylan (1965 style)
‘Of war and peace the truth just twists
Its curfew gull just glides
Upon four-legged forest clouds
The cowboy angel rides
With his candle lit into the sun
Though its glow is waxed in black
All except when ‘neath the trees of Eden’
Thanks for ‘Gates of Eden’, Karl. Every now and again, one needs to stop and marvel at what Bob has achieved in his body of work.
Some crackers in here!
Eve of Destruction, Barry McGuire and Dave Warner – The Eastern world, it is explodin’/Violence flarin’, bullets loadin’/You’re old enough to kill but not for votin’/You don’t believe in war, but what’s that gun you’re totin’?/And even the Jordan river has bodies floatin’/But you tell me over and over and over again my friend/Ah, you don’t believe we’re on the eve of destruction
Vietnam, Jimmy Cliff – It was just the next day, his mother got a telegram/It was addressed from Vietnam/Now mistress Brown, she lives in the USA/And this is what she wrote and said/”Don’t be alarmed”, she told me, the telegram said/”But mistress Brown, your son is dead”/And it came from/Vietnam
B.O.B. (Bombs over Bagdad), Outkast
Galveston, Jimmy Webb and Glen Campbell – Galveston, oh Galveston/I still hear your sea winds blowing/I still see her dark eyes glowing/She was twenty-one/When I left Galveston/Galveston, oh Galveston/I still hear your sea waves crashing/While I watch the cannons flashing/And I clean my gun/And I dream of Galveston/I still see her standing by the water/Standing there, looking out to sea/And is she waiting there for me/On the beach where we used to run?/Galveston, oh Galveston/I am so afraid of dying/Before I dry the tears she’s crying/Before I see your sea birds flying in the sun/At Galveston
Galveston Bay, Bruce Springsteen, I have lyrics for the first verse, songs get’s sadder – For 15 years Lee Bin Son fought side by side with the Americans/In the mountains and deltas of Vietnam/In ’75 Saigon fell and he left his command/And brought his family to the promised land/Seabrook, Texas is the small town in the gulf of Mexico/It was delta country and reminded him of home/He worked as a machinist/Put his money away and bought a shrimp boat with his cousin/And together they harvested Galveston bay
Some very fine material in your latest lot, thanks Rick. To select a couple for comment: ‘Eve of Destruction ‘ is a blinder of a song – and Dave N has already mentioned ‘Galveston’, though didn’t quote from the lyrics, as you did.
‘One Tin Soldier’ – original version by The Original Caste (1969).
‘Battle Scars’ – Guy Sebastian (ft. Lupe Fiasco) – 2012
Bruce thoughts on war:
Lost in the Flood, early 70s about a Viet vet – The ragamuffin gunner is returnin’ home/Like a hungry runaway/He walks through town all alone/”He must be from the fort”/He hears the high school girls say/His countryside’s burnin’ with wolfman fairies/Dressed in drag for homicide/They hit and run, plead sanctuary/’Neath a holy stone they hide/They’re breakin’ beams and crosses/With a spastic’s reelin’ perfection/Nuns run bald through Vatican halls pregnant/Pleadin’ immaculate conception/And everybody’s wrecked on Main Street/From drinking unholy blood/Sticker smiles sweet as gunner breathes deep/His ankles caked in mud/And I said, “Hey, gunner man, that’s quicksand/That’s quicksand that ain’t mud/Have you thrown your senses to the war/Or did you lose them in the flood?”
Shut Out the Light, early 80s, another about a Viet vet – Well on his porch they stretched a banner that said “Johnny welcome home”/Bobby pulled his Ford out of the garage and they polished up the chrome/His mama said “Johnny oh Johnny, I’m so glad to have you back with me”/His pa said he was sure they’d give him his job back down at the factory/Mama mama mama come quick/I’ve got the shakes and I’m gonna be sick/throw your arms around me in the cold dark night/Hey now mama don’t shut out the light
Souls of the Departed, early 90s, about first Iraq war – On the road to Basra stood young Lieutenant Jimmy Bly/Detailed to go through the clothes of the soldiers who died/At night in dreams he sees their souls rise/Like dark geese into the Oklahoma skies/Well this is a prayer for the souls of the departed/Those who’ve gone and left their babies brokenhearted/This is a prayer for the souls of the departed
Brothers Under the Bridge, late 90s, another about a Viet vet – I come home in ’72/You were just a beautiful light in your mama’s dark eyes of blue/And I stood down on the tarmac, and I was just a kid/Me and the brothers under the bridge … Come Veterans’ Day I sat in the stands in my dress blues/I held your mother’s hand when they passed with the red, white and blue/One minute you’re right there, and something slips…
Devils and Dust, early 2000, about the second Iraq war – I got my finger on the trigger/But I don’t know who to trust/When I look into your eyes/There’s just devils and dust/We’re a long, long way from home, Bobbie/Home’s a long, long way from us/I feel a dirty wind blowing/Devils and dust/I got God on my side/And I’m just trying to survive/What if what you do to survive/Kills the things you love/Fear’s a powerful thing, baby/It can turn your heart black, you can trust/It’ll take your God-filled soul/And fill it with devils and dust
The Wall, written in the late 90s and recorded in the early 2010s, another look at how devastating the Vietnam or more correctly, the American War was for soldiers, families, communities and the country –
Cigarettes and a bottle of beer
This poem that I wrote for you
This black stone and these hard tears
Are all I got left now of you
I remember you in your Marine uniform laughin’
Laughin’ at your shipping out party
I read Robert McNamara says he’s sorry
Your high boots and striped T-shirt
Ah, Billy you looked so bad
Yeah, you and your rock-n-roll band
You were the best thing this shit town ever had
Now the men that put you here eat with their families
In rich dining halls
And apology and forgiveness
Got no place here at all
At the wall
I’m sorry I missed you last year
I couldn’t find no one to drive me
If your eyes could cut through that black stone
Tell me would they recognize me?
For the living time it must be served
As the day goes on
Cigarettes and a bottle of beer
Skin on black stone
On the ground, dog tags and wreaths of flowers
With the ribbons red as the blood
Red as the blood you spilled
In the Central Highlands mud
Limousines rush down Pennsylvania Avenue
Rustling the leaves as they fall
And apology and forgiveness
Got no place here at all
Here at the wall
The title track from Fairport Convention’s underrated 1988 album ‘Red and Gold’ echoes Bob’s early anti-war works in its positioning of riches, power and religion as agencies of warfare and the common people as its victims. The song is a cover of Ralph McTell’s imagining of the C17th Battle of Cropredy Bridge. Ralph was and is a pretty handy songwriter; this is worth reprinting in full.
[Chorus]
Red and gold are royal colours
Peasant colours are green and brown
Green is the corn in the brown earth when it’s growing
Red and gold when the harvest is cut down
[Verse 1]
Through Cropredy in Oxfordshire the Cherwell takes its course
And the willows weep into its waters clear
My name it is Will Tims and it’s here that I was born
And raised in faith my King and God to fear
[Verse 2]
In 1644 the King in Oxford Town did dwell
Though we’d heard that Cromwell’s army was nearby
It did not occur to me that little Cropredy
Could be witness to the meeting of both sides
[Verse 3]
On June the 29th that year I was about my work
Cutting hedges in a meadow by the stream
My blade slipped, I cut my hand and my own dear blood did flow
Upon the brown earth and the corn still green
[Verse 4]
Now it did distress me so to watch my own blood flow
And quickly soak into the greedy ground
In red and gold my colours swam and sweat broke on my brow
And faint I knew that I must lay me down
[Chorus]
Red and gold are royal colours
Peasant colours are green and brown
Green is the corn in the brown earth when it’s growing
Red and gold when the harvest is cut down
[Verse 5]
At first I thought the thundering was just inside my head
So I raised myself above the hedge to see
And I watched as in a dream as the armies fought downstream
The Battle for the Bridge at Cropredy
[Verse 6]
Now the King’s men fought in red and gold though Cromwell’s men were plainer
The blood they spilled was coloured just the same
Through the hedgerow’s fragile cover I saw brother killing brother
And all of this was done in Jesus’ name
[Chorus]
Red and gold are royal colours
Peasant colours are green and brown
Green is the corn in the brown earth when it’s growing
Red and gold when the harvest is cut down
[Verse 7]
All that day and all the next the battle it was raging
Though when darkness came I slipped away
But the crying of the dying kept me wakeful and just lying
In my bed until the dawning of the day
[Bridge]
And the dreams I had were red and gold
And the little stream became a flood
From all my brothers killing one another
Till waking I realised it was all my own dear blood
[Verse 8]
Some were buried in the church and some just where they fell
With no markers to declare their place of rest
But the poppies they do grow where they were never sown
And to my mind they do declare it best
[Verse 9]
And each year when the green corn once again turns into gold
And the poppies in the field again remind me
Like the scar upon my hand and the blood spilled on this land
And the hungry earth so eager to confine me
[Chorus]
For red and gold they are the colours
One is blood and one is power
Though I may find my rest in Cropredy Church
In golden fields forever will spring the poppy flower
[Verse 10]
By Cropredy the Cherwell is still bidden to keep flowing
And the willows by its side still gently weep
But still in restless dreams by this most peaceful stream
The poppies wake me from my rightful sleep
[Bridge]
And the dreams I have are red and gold
And the little stream becomes a flood
From all my brothers killing one another
Till waking I realise it’s all my own dear blood
[Instrumental Outro]
What a vivid, richly poetic array of Bruce ‘war songs’, Rick. Thank you. Wonderful, powerful stuff!
Thanks for ‘Red and Gold’, Andrew – epic, impactful material, and certainly worth reproducing in full.
Thanks for posting Red and Gold Andrew. It is so long since I played the CD with that song on it that I had forgotten it. Ralph McTell is currently on his farewell tour of Australia and I will be going to his Melbourne concert this Friday.. Here is another song of Ralph’s on the current theme.
England 1914
Night stirs her inky finger
In the water of the day
The tired sun drops slowly in the sky
And everywhere the gentle air
Hangs heavy with the day song
Evening calls the lamplight out to come
Children’s wooden hoops
Go clattering down the street
Soon they’re called inside, it’s getting late
The grand canal
Now splashed with red
Reflects on swallows wings
The lamplighter knows the song
The evening sings
But the gas-lamps stand like soldiers
Hiss warnings to the wind
Their evening vespers prophicy a war
The world divides
And men take sides
The spark bursts into flame
Nothing can be quite the same again
Dog barks in the distance
Child cries in her sleep
Night waits for the dawn with baited breath
The old school, the old rule
Rung out on a muffinman’s bell
The lamplighter has made his nightly call
Dreams of hope and peace
Sent clattering down the streets
Empty like the promises they made
The wars rage on, and different wrongs
Will someone please explain
That peace is not the lamplighter
‘Cause he’s not coming back again
Thanks for posting this wonderful McTell lyric, Dave. As you’d know, WW1 has often been described as ‘the poets’ war’, but I feel, equally, it could be encapsulated as ‘the songwriters’ war’, due to the number of songs written about it, either at the time or during the period since then.
A final couple from Dylan –
Highway 61 Revisited
‘Now, the roving gambler he was very bored
Trying to create a next world war
He found a promoter who nearly fell off the floor
He said, “I never engaged in this kind of thing before
But yes, I think it can be very easily done
We’ll just put some bleachers out in the sun
And have it on Highway 61″‘
It’s Alright Ma, (I’m Only Bleeding)
‘Temptation’s page flies out the door
You follow, find yourself at war
Watch waterfalls of pity roar
You feel to moan but unlike before
You discover that you’d just be one more
Person crying’
And I totally agree with what you said a little earlier….
“Every now and again, one needs to stop and marvel at what Bob has achieved in his body of work.”
Thanks for your latest Bob songs, Karl – two classic works there.
And I’m particularly pleased you liked the wording of my ‘Bob tribute’ – I chose the words very carefully. At least partially, these words were inspired by what Joan Baez said very recently, to the effect that she had some issues with various things in relation to Bob in the past, but came to the position of appreciating how fortunate she was to have the connection with Bob that she did. (This is a rough approximation of what she said.)
Way back in time, I wrote a few songs related to war ~ I’ll share bits of two of those songs:
Not My Resting Place (written April 1990/revised November 2017)
‘Heard a roar like thunder/as the night sky flashed
Felt the earth tremble/as another building crashed
Shivered to the screams/of human flesh on barbed wire
A gentle breeze brings to me/the stench of death of fire
How did I get here/I know I’m not that brave
Where’s my angel of mercy/surely this is not my resting place
Helicopter, spotlight/commotion overhead
An explosion hits so close/but that’s someone else who’s dead
Anything that moves/is a target for the kill
Why, even white flagged peasants/have gravestones on the hill
Will I even find peace in this war of the darkest kind?
Will I ever be released from this Vietnam of the mind?’
Ain’t Gonna Fight No More (written June 1988/revised April 2019)
‘Ain’t gonna fight no more
I’ve got no use for this war
They say that we’re still winning
So, why is the enemy still grinning?
(and why do I feel like I’m sinning?)
We take the ultimate test
for medals on a brigadiers chest
My body’s not made of steel
pain and shrapnel I can feel’
Thanks for this pair of Dubravs originals, Karl.
This set of songs is a bit all over the place:
Dress Blue, Jason Isbell – Mamas and grandmamas love you/American boys hate to lose/But you never planned on the bombs in the sand/Or sleeping in your dress blues/The high school gymnasium’s ready/Full of flowers and old legionnaires/Nobody showed up to protest/Just sniffle and stare/There’s red, white, and blue in the rafters/And there’s silent old men from the corps/What did they say when they shipped you away/To fight somebody’s Hollywood war?
Grant at Galena, Craig Finn, this is not a song about war per se but the title and chorus reference Ulysses E. Grant, actually references a line from the F Scott Fitzgerald novel, Tender is the Night where a character compares themself to Grant who after leading the Union to victory in the American Civil War and before becoming President spent time in Galena but wasn’t as focused as when he was dealing with adversity – I’m a creature of habit/But I forget what it’s for/I’m Grant at Galena/I need a new war/I need a new war
Convict Streak, Dave Warner’s from the Suburbs – Maybe it’s because of our convict streak/We want to fight everyone we meet/ANZAC Day is our day of the year/We march our march and we drink our beer/We’re only few but we fought in Nam/Packed our guns alongside Uncle Sam/Ask any of us, it were no sin/The only crime was that we didn’t win
My Uncle, The Flying Burrito Brothers – A sad old soldier once told me a story/About a battlefield that he was on/He said a man should never fight for glory/He must know what is right and what is wrong/So I’m headin’ for the nearest foreign border/Vancouver may be just my kind of town/’Cause they don’t need the kind of law and order/That tends to keep a good man underground, oh, yeah/Now, I don’t know how much I owe my uncle/But I suspect it’s more than I can pay/He’s askin’ me to sign a three-year contract/I guess I’ll catch the first bus out today
Thanks for your latest choices, Rick. I found the selection of Craig Finn’s ‘Grant at Galena’ particularly interesting, as I love a great deal of Fitzgerald’s work and Tender is the Night is among my favourite 20th century novels.
More songs from all over the map of the human heart as it faces, deals with and remembers war, which by the way, what is war good for, absolutely nothing:
Turn it On, Turn it On, Turn it On, Tom T – Johnny got up one morning/He went down to the company store/Got him a big box of bullets/To fit into his .44/The store man said, “Son, are you gonna work?/You know you owe me too much to stop”/John said, “I got a little workin’ to do/But I ain’t goin’ by your clock”/People said John was a slacker/’Cause he wouldn’t fight in their war/A man wasn’t much/If he wouldn’t fight back in nineteen forty and four/The doctor said, “John was just too sick to go”/But the people said that he was a coward/And one of the men makin’ fun of him/Was a fellow named Milton Howard/Milton was down at the cold spring/A drinkin’ from a mason jar/He said, “John, you better get yourself to work/Or you’re gonna fool around ’til you get fired”/John blew the dust from his old .44/Put two holes in Milton’s head/When Johnny walked off to get some more shootin’ done/That ol’ cold spring was a runnin’ red
Bring ‘Em Home, Springsteen, from his Seeger Sessions album, don’t know the history of this song but I’m sure Dave N does, anyway it’s another sad refrain, this version re second Iraq/Afghanistan war, about who is on the frontline (our family members) vs who dictates reason for such monstrosities 10000 miles from the battlefields – If you love this land of the free/Bring ’em home, bring ’em home/Bring them back from overseas/Bring ’em home, bring ’em home/It will make the politicians sad, I know/Bring ’em home, bring ’em home/They wanna tangle with their foe/Bring ’em home, bring ’em home/They wanna test their grand theories/Bring ’em home, bring ’em home/With the blood of you and me/Bring ’em home, bring ’em home/Now we’ll give no more brave young lives/Bring ’em home, bring ’em home/For the gleam in someone’s eyes/Bring ’em home, bring ’em home
Last to Die, another Springsteen song, this one his own, focused on the Iraq war, using as its title a question Senator John Kerry posed in 1971 in front of the Senate Foreign Relations Committee during hearings on the Vietnam War (“How do you ask a man to be the last man to die in Vietnam? How do you ask a man to be the last man to die for a mistake?), also, this song was covered by Pet Shop Boys and is almost as good as, maybe better than Springsteen’s version – We took the highway ’til the road went black/We marked Truth Or Consequences on our map/A voice drifted up from the radio/We saw the voice from long ago/Who’ll be the last to die for a mistake/The last to die for a mistake/Whose blood will spill, whose heart will break/Who’ll be the last to die for a mistake
Shadows on the Hill, Troy Cassar-Daley recounts a family story from one of the massacres of the Frontiers War, a part of Australia’s history that we will have to face … one day, incidentally, Troy teamed up with Briggs in 2021 to create a new version of this saddest of songs given additional lyrics and a wild performance by Briggs – I see shadows on the hill/Up beside the old sawmill/Where my people were killed/I see shadows on the hill/I see shadows on the ground/Where the bones don’t make no sound/Hidden so they can’t be found/I see shadows on the ground/On the Old Glen Innes Road/Where the great Mann River flows/Men, women, children slain/Buried up there on that range/I woke up in the dead of night/Saw two men in the firelight/They had scars across their chest/Said their spirits cannot rest
Great songs and comments as usual – thanks Rick.
For me, Tom T’s marvellous song deserves special mention – it’s one of our Almanac songlist ‘multi-theme classics’, having appeared under the umbrella of a number of previous themes.
Also, your comment about the quality of the Pet Shop Boys’ version of ‘Last to Die’ reminds me of how good they covered ‘Always on My Mind’ – better rendition than Elvis’s, maybe?
Yes it is one of his best and one of my faves by Tom T. Even more remarkable, given it spoke to inequities with a sharp eye and stark lyrics 10 years before Springsteen’s Nebraska, with its stark portrayal of a broken America based on a manufactured unfairness. My fave Tom T song and from his best album is the song, Kentucky, February 27, 1971, on the album In Search of a Song.
Anyways, another song that approaches war from one rejected as unfit is Scorn of the Women, Weddings Parties, Anything – Well, I remember respectfully like others before me/All those folk who fell in the war/And I heard you singing songs of lamentation/But I don’t wish to hear them no more/”And what did you do in the time of the war?”/Is the question asked by everyone/Well, I stood in the line, my screwdriver in hand/Making aircraft out at Laverton/So don’t sing no songs about waltzing Matilda/Don’t tell me I tried, don’t tell me I failed/’Cause all I recall is the scorn of the women/And a white feather that I received in the mail/Well, I remember the day I went down to enlist/And they said, “Read this chart on the wall”/And I remember the tone of the voice of the doctor/As he said to me, “That will be all, thank you very much”/Riding home slowly, I sat on my tram/Not sure if to laugh or to cry/For to train in the camps, a man needs his lamps/And a good soldier, he must have good eyes
And another by Bruce, why not. Highway Patrolman, about brothers – Well, Franky went in the army, back in 1965/I got a farm deferment, settled down, took Maria for my wife/But them wheat prices kept on droppin’/’Til it was like we were gettin’ robbed/Franky came home in ’68/And me, I took this job/Yeah, we’re laughin’ and drinkin’/Nothin’ feels better than blood on blood/Takin’ turns dancin’ with Maria/As the band played “Night of the Johnstown Flood”/I catch him when he’s strayin’/Teach him how to walk that line/Man turns his back on his family/He ain’t no friend of mine
Yep, Rick, I know – and really, really like – Tom T’s ‘Kentucky, February 27, 1971’. What has stayed with me in relation to this song is the feeling that it is an archetypal example of a well-made song. Any aspiring songwriter should look at it as a great example of how to construct a quality song.
Thanks for the WPA and Springsteen numbers, too, of course.
Some Johnny Cash and Merle:
Man in Black – And, I wear it/For the thousands who have died/Believin’ that the Lord/Was on their side/I wear it for another/Hundred thousand who have died/Believin’ that we all/Were on their side
Trail of Tears, an horrific genocide, attributed to the American Indian Wars – Sometimes at night I seen to hear a little Cherokee Baby cry/And I seem to see campfires that burned for 10.000 years gone by./And I heard a voice cry out. These were our homes for all these years./And the trail that takes us away will surely be a trail of tears./There were many, many little children/Among the Young and old who died/Up on the trail of Tears/Before they reached the other side.
What is Truth – A little boy of three sittin’ on the floor/Looks up and says, “Daddy, what is war?”/”Son, that’s when people fight and die”/The little boy of three says “Daddy, why?”/A young man of seventeen in Sunday school/Being taught the golden rule/And by the time another year has gone around/It may be his turn to lay his life down/Can you blame the voice of youth for asking/”What is truth?”
The Fightin’ Side Of Me, Merle Haggard – I hear people talkin’ bad about the way we have to live here in this country/Harpin’ on the wars we fight, an’ gripin’ ’bout the way things oughta be/An’ I don’t mind ’em switchin’ sides, an’ standin’ up for things they believe in/When they’re runnin’ down my country, man/They’re walkin’ on the fightin’ side of me
This Cold War with You, Merle – The sun goes down and leaves me sad and blue/The iron curtain falls on this cold war with you/You won’t speak and I won’t speak, it’s true/Two stubborn people with a cold war to go through/Why oh why does love ever come to couples like you and me?/Whose cold wars are never done and whose hearts can’t be free/Let’s do right or let’s just say we’re through/I just can’t stand another cold, cold war with you
Great bunch of selections, Rick, as usual. Cash and Haggard – what more can one say? Many thanks!
With Almanac contributor Glen to the forefront of my mind (our ‘go to’ person when it comes to Rose Tattoo and Stray Cats), I nominate a great, ball-tearing anti-war song by the Tatts, ‘I Wish’, released in 1984. The song is definitely worth quoting in full:
Met a man from Ireland
Drinkin’ in a bar
Although his voice was soft and warm
His eyes were cold and hard
He spoke of Irish children
Knowing only war
I wish I could have known him better
I might have understood it all
I wish where was something I could say
Something to ease the pain away
I hear the voice of Poland
It’s calling out to me
Sighing, crying, dying to be free
Their streets are full of armour
Their eyes are full of tears
Must they live this life of sadness
For years and years and years
I wish where was something I could say
Something to ease the pain away
Something to ease the pain away
I wish I was a hero
Fighting for the rights of man
Wish I was a tribesman in
In the hills of Afghanistan
I wish I was a soldier
Fighting for the peace
Fighting down in El Salvador
Fighting insanity, inhumanity
I wish there was something I could say
Something to ease the pain away
I wish where was something I could say
Something to ease the pain away
Oh, you know I wish there was something I could say
Something to ease the pain away
I wish there was something I could say
Something to ease the pain away…
Another fabulous on-theme song from 1984 is ‘The Warrior’ by Scandal (ft Patty Smyth). The song contains various references to war – warriors, shooting, victory etc and a great rock vocal by Patty Smyth
Loved Rose Tattoo back in the day, saw them a few times in Perth. Angry was an incredible front man. Pity about some of his more rank views.
Anyways, here are some Billy Bragg songs:
Help Save the Youth of America – Help save the youth of America/Help save the youth of the world/Help save the boys in uniform/Their mothers and their faithful girls/Listen to the voice of the soldier/Down in the killing zone/Talking about the cost of living/And the price of bringing him home/They’re already shipping the body bags/Down below the Rio Grande/But you can fight for democracy at home/And not in some foreign land/And the fate of the great United States/Is entwined in the fate of us all/And the incident at Chernobyl proves/The world we live in is very small/And the cities of Europe have burned before/And they may yet burn again/And if they do I hope you understand/That Washington will burn with them/Omaha will burn with them/Los Alamos will burn with them
Tank Park Salute, a song honouring his father who passed away when Billy was 18, the song title and final chorus reference his father’s time in WWII as tank driver – Some photographs of a summer’s day/A little boy’s lifetime away/Is all I have left of everything we’ve done/Like a pale moon in a sunny sky/Death gazes down as I pass by/To remind me that I’m but my father’s son/I offer up to you/This tribute/I offer up to you/This tank park salute
All You Fascists Are Bound to Lose, Billy covering a Woody Guthrie song – I’m goin’ into this battle, take my union gun/We’ll end this world of slavery before this war won/You’re bound to lose, you fascists are bound to lose/Race, hatred, cannot stop us, this one thing we know/Your poll tax and Jim Crow and greed have got to go/You’re bound to lose, you fascists are bound to lose
The Home Front, a discomforting view of middle England and what settling for the status quo means – Mother sees but does not read the peeling posters/And can’t believe that there’s a world to be won/But in the public schools and in the public houses/The Battle of Britain goes on/The constant promise of jam tomorrow/Is the New Breed’s litany and verse/If it takes another war to fill the churches of England/Then the world the meek inherit, what will it be worth
Like Soldiers Do – Nothing is clear in this tactical unclear war/I can’t be bothered to find out/What we are fighting for/No one can win this war of the senses/I see no reason to drop my defences/So stand fast my emotions/Rally round my shaking heart/Our Fathers were all soldiers/Shall we be soldiers too/Fighting and falling like soldiers do
This lyric just popped in ~
Idiot Wind (from 1975 Blood On The Tracks)
‘There’s a lone soldier on the cross
Smoke pouring out of a boxcar door
You didn’t know it, you didn’t think it could be done
In the final end he won the war
After losing every battle’
Enjoy your weekend!
Thanks for the Billy Bragg material – stimulating, provoking and intelligent are three words that spring to mind when I think of his work.
Of course – thanks, Rick, for the Billy Bragg material …
Thank you, Karl, for Bob’s ‘Idiot Wind’ – another of the songs to have appeared in a number of our themed songlists.
Time to go back to the American Civil War era, to ‘When Johnny Comes Marching Home’, written by Louis Lambert, aka Patrick Gilmore (1863).
The nervous nineties are upon us~~~~~
You had Jackson Browne’s 1983 ‘Lawyers In Love’ in your intro…
Jackson’s next album – 1986 ‘Lives In The Balance’ is chock-a-block full of ‘war’ references ~ references that are sadly more relevant now (2026) than in 1986!
For America
‘The thing I wonder about the Dads and Moms
Who send their sons to the Vietnams
Will they really think their way of life
Has been protected as the next war comes?’
Soldier Of Plenty
‘You measure peace with guns
Progress in megatons
Who’s left when the war is won?’
Lives In The Balance
‘There’s a shadow on the faces
Of the men who fan the flames
Of the wars that are fought in places
Where we can’t even say the names’
Till I Go Down
‘I’m not gonna shut my eyes
I’ve already seen the lies
On the faces of the men of war
Leading people to the killing floor’
Happy Saturday morning, Karl!
Thanks for the Jackson Browne ‘war’ songs from Lives in the Balance – highly appropriate, as you indicate, both in terms of the general theme and also in connection with the present-day world.
Overall, we’re now close to our century – always a commendable milestone!
That was the tour I saw Jackson Browne live. Great concert as I recall. Good album.
This may be the newest song on the list, released on 26 March:
Days We Left Behind, Paul McCartney, this is the first single off new album, which will be released late May I think. Great simple song as Macca fondly remembers his youth and in this song there is an implied reference to him and Lennon as teenagers – In the skies, the skylarks rise/Above the sounds of war/Since that day, I knew they’d stay/With me for evermore/’Cause nothing stays the same/And no one needs to cry/No one is to blame/For the days we left behind
Thanks for ‘Days We Left Behind’, Rick. I love this song – one of the best Macca has done for a long time – and you know I’m a big fan of probably the best melodist – and one of the absolute top songwriters – in twentieth/twenty-first century songwriting.
I’ll tell you about another song from the upcoming McCartney album, The Boys of Dungeon Lane. This song, released just yesterday (May 8), called ‘Home to Us’, is a fine song, too – it’s a rousing duet with Ringo, who also plays some rollicking drums on it. That old cool cat can still belt the skins to great effect, even in his mid-eighties! Stretching things a bit, this song about the difficulties – but more the joys – of growing up in post WW2 Liverpool, I believe, references war in terms of lines such as ‘The world around us wasn’t safe, the place was falling down / But it was my hometown…’ One should also mention that Macca and Ringo were actually born while the war was still raging: 1942 and 1940 respectively.
Agree on all counts KD, I love the Macca/Ringo song as well. Back in 2010 I was in Liverpool for a conference. I stayed at the Hard Day’s Night hotel, right around the corner from the Cavern. Just brilliant. I did a taxi tour of Beatles site, got to see where each one of them grew up. The socio-economic difference was startling. As Macca notes in an interview re Home to Us. So I was thinking about that as I listened. There is also a passing nod to Springsteen’s My Hometown in there. Cheers
I always enjoy these kinds of details in one of our themed song threads, Rick. Thanks!
Brothers in Arms – Dire Straits (Somewhat more explicitly political than most of Mark Knopfler’s songs)
These mist-covered mountains
Are a home now for me
But my home is in lowlands
And always will be
Someday, you’ll return to
Your valleys and your farms
And you’ll no longer burn
To be brothers in arms
Through these fields of destruction
Baptisms of fire
I’ve witnessed your suffering
As the battle raged higher
And though they did hurt me so bad
In the fear and alarm
You did not desert me
My brothers in arms
There’s so many different worlds
So many different suns
And we have just one world
But we live in different ones
Now the sun’s gone to hell, and
The moon’s riding high
Let me bid you farewell
Every man has to die
But it’s written in the starlight
And every line in your palm
We’re fools to make war
On our brothers in arms
Jimmy Newman – Tom Paxton
Get up Jimmy Newman the morning is come
The engine’s are rumbling the coffee’s all brewed
Get up Jimmy Newman there’s work to be done
And why do you lie there still sleeping
There’s a waiting line forming to use the latrine
And the sun is just opening the sky
The breakfast they’re serving just has to be seen
And you’ve only to open your eyes
Get up Jimmy Newman my radio’s on
The news is all bad but it’s good for a laugh
The tent flap is loose and the peg must be gone
Why do you lie there still sleeping
The night nurse is gone and the sexy one’s here
And she tells us such beautiful lies
Her uniform’s tight on her marvellous rear
And you’ve only to open your eyes
Get up Jimmy Newman you’re missing the fun
We’re loading the plane Jim it’s time to go home
It’s over for us there’s no more to be done
And why do you lie there still sleeping
It’s stateside for us Jim the folks may not know
We’ll let it be such a surprise
They’re loading us next Jim we’re ready to go
And you’ve only to open your eyes
Get up Jimmy Newman they won’t take my word
I said you sleep hard but they’re shaking their heads
Get up Jimmy Newman and show them you heard
Jimmy just show them you’re sleeping
A joke is a joke but there’s nothing to gain
Jim I’d slap you but I’m too weak to rise
Get up damn it Jimmy you’re missing the plane
And you’ve only to open your eyes.
Moratorium – Buffy Sainte Marie (I’ve posted this before but it is relevant to this theme.
Captain Collier came home, he’s been fighting the war
And I guess he thought he’d be hailed as a hero and more
And he walked down the streets of the old home town
And he saw how it is around here now
Now Captain Collier had to call
Far too many girls for a date that night
All the girls had gone out
With their long haired boys
Captain Collier, he cried
What the hell have I been fighting for?
Oh, Captain it’s for you
We wanna bring you home
We wanna hold you in our arms
Come back and keep us warm
P.F.C. Mannie Stein
Had been drafted and gone
He’d been told that only cowards say no
He came home and called some old friends
They’d resisted the draft
And they both were in prison
And their wives and their kids
Were all skinny and having a bad time
And P.F.C. Stein
He remembered the men
Called political prisoners you know where and when
And he learned that the lines are tapped all the time now
And he’s wondering if maybe his courage is needed at home now
Yes soldier we’re afraid
We’re not just bein’ fools
We’re gassed and beaten here at home
We’ve got to change the rules
Corporal Thomas McCann
Is a three year marine
Someone told him he’d better join up
It would would make him a man
He came home and to the park he went
And he sat down on a bench
And a dungaree girl told him he’d been a man all along
And he looked at the sign that she carried in her hand
It said “Fuck the war and bring our brothers home”
And corporal McCann he looks into her eyes
And I believe that he’s begun to understand
Oh soldier, It’s for you
We formed our little bands
The politicians and the magazines
They just don’t understand
Yes, soldier it’s for you
We’re riskin’ all we have
We’re nailed and jailed the same as you
Our lives are up for grabs
Yes soldier it’s for you
We want to bring you home
We wanna hold you in our arms
Come back and keep us warm
Hey bring our brother home
Lest We – Judy Small (recorded in 1981)
It seems that in this country old soldiers never die
They just keep right on marching down the years and down the line
You can see them any April in their annual parade
“It’s for all our fallen mates” they say, “To recall the price they paid
Lest we forget”
And their step is often sprightly and there’s few don’t throw a smile
To the cameras and the children as they march their golden mile
For a day the years just melt away, they’re back amongst it all
With their mates and with the danger and their backs against the wall
Lest we forget
And I wonder as they march along just what they think about
Do they just see smiling faces? Have they blocked the horrors out?
Do they only think of comradeship or the girls from Armentieres?
Or the nights they spent in Cairo as they listen to the cheers?
Lest they recall
Chorus:
Lest they recall the countless children burned alive in napalm’s fire
Lest they recall the dead civilians lying tangled in the wire
Or the faces of the women raped and shattered to the core
It’s not only men in uniform who pay the price of war
Lest we forget
It seems that in this country old soldiers never die
They just keep right on marching down the years and down the line
But the further from the battlefield the further from their minds
Is the truth about the carnage and the mates they left behind
Lest they forget
Chorus:
Lest they forget the countless children burned alive in napalm’s fire
Lest they forget the dead civilians lying tangled in the wire
Or the faces of the women raped and shattered to the core
It’s not only men in uniform who pay the price of war
Lest we forget
Mothers, Daughters, Wives – Judy Small
Chorus (after every other verse):
The first time it was fathers, the last time it was sons,
And in between your husbands marched away with drums and guns.
And you never stopped to question, you just went on with your lives,
For all they’d taught you who to be was mothers, daughters, wives.
You can only just remember the tears your mother shed;
As she sat and read their papers, through the lists and lists of dead.
And the gold frames held the photographs that mothers kissed each night,
And the doorframes held the shocked and silent strangers from the fight.
And twenty-one years later, with children of your own,
The trumpets sounded once again and the soldier boys were gone.
And you drove their trucks and made their guns and tended to their wounds,
And at night you kissed the photographs and prayed for safe returns.
And after it was over, you had to learn again
To just be wives and mothers when you’d done the work of men,
So you worked to help the needy and you never trod on toes
And the photos on the pianos they struck a happy family pose.
Then your daughters grew to women and your little boys to men,
And you prayed that you were dreaming when the call-up came again.
But you proudly smiled and held your tears as they bravely waved goodbye
And the photos on the mantelpiece, they always made you cry.
And now you’re getting older and with times the photos fade
And in widowhood you’re sitting, and reflect on the parade,
Of the passing of your memories as your daughters change their lives,
Seeing more to their existence than just mothers, daughters, wives.
Final chorus:
The first time it was fathers, the last time it was sons,
And in between your husbands marched away with drums and guns.
And you never stopped to question, you just went on with your lives,
For all they’d taught you who to be was mothers, daughters, wives,
And you believed them.
Great selection of material, Dave, as usual – a powerful bunch. ‘Brothers in Arms’ was a surprise, but of course spot on in terms of the ‘war’ theme.
Sorry I’m late to the gathering (not really appropriate to call it a party, is it). But I think I can offer a few more to already telling contributions from others.
**Mick Harvey’s ‘Waves of Anzac’** — instrumental, a literal soundtrack for the sadness of that whole bloody disaster.
**PJ Harvey, ‘All & Everyone’** — continuing the theme…
Death was everywhere,?in the air?/and in the sounds?/coming off the mounds?/of Bolton’s Ridge.?
Death’s anchorage.?
Death was in the staring sun,?fixing its eyes on everyone.?/It rattled the bones of the Light Horsemen?/still lying out there in the open
**Richard Thompson, Dad’s Gonna Kill Me** — the “Dad” is Baghdad …
Out in the desert there’s a soldier lying dead
Vultures pecking the eyes out of his head
Another day that could have been me there instead
Nobody loves me here
Nobody wants me here
Dad’s gonna kill me
**Wire, Reuters**
Prices have risen as the government fell
Casualties increase as the enemy shell
The climate’s unhealthy, flies and rats thrive
And sooner or later the end will arrive
This is your correspondent, running out of tape
Gunfire’s increasing
Looting, burning, rape
Rape
Rape…
**Viet Vet Blues, Red Mole [NZ]**
One day there a voice on the radio talking about WAR in Vietnam
They wanted some good clean Kiwis to go and help out Uncle Sam
Surely if there is death for all then I am more than willing …
I’m just one man but I am free to destroy myself publicly
To keep my mum and dad living safely in a democracy…
But [now] I crave your indulgence as I finish this roach
Close that door quietly, this is a funeral coach
They say that time’s are a changing but I haven’t much hope?I can hear the devil making small talk as my last days approach.
Old lady I want you to walk behind wearing widow’s black
But check my left shoe, ha, I brought you half an ounce of Saigon smack
**Tom Waits, Soldier’s Things**
A tinker, a tailor
A soldier’s things
His rifle, his boots full of rocks
Oh, and this one is for bravery
And this one is for me
And everything’s a dollar
In this box
**Peter Gabriel, Games Without Frontiers**
Hans plays with Lotte, Lotte plays with Jane
Jane plays with Willi, Willi is happy again
Suki plays with Leo, Sacha plays with Britt
Adolf builds a bonfire, Enrico plays with it…
If looks could kill, they probably will
In games without frontiers, war without tears
If looks could kill, they probably will
In games without frontiers, war without tears
Games without frontiers, war without tears
**Last Post, Blam Blam Blam [NZ]**
The men are sleeping at the Last Post
No creature stirs, this is the Last War, Last War …
No reinforcements from the Last Post
No false heroics from the very last War
Transmitter crackles for a Lost Cause, Lost Cause…
I turn my face towards the sky
I feel my weeping eyes
I turn my head away…
**Vive le Quinte Brigada, Christy Moore**
Even the olives were bleeding/?As the battle for Madrid it thundered on?/Truth and love against the force of evil?/Brotherhood against the fascist clan
**Manic Street Preachers, If You Tolerate This Your Children Will Be Next**
The future teaches you to be alone
The present to be afraid and cold
So if I can shoot rabbits
Then I can shoot fascists
Bullets for your brain today
But we’ll forget it all again
Monuments put from pen to paper
Turns me into a gutless wonder
**Billy Bold, Graham Brazier [NZ]**
But the baton’s hard and the dungeon’s cold
You’re black or white, you’re young or old
Yesterday we did what we were told
But now we are Billy Bold
Yesterday we were ten years old
Yesterday we were freezing cold
Yesterday you had us bought and sold
But now we are Billy Bold
And you hear the drums they roll
Street war must take its toll
For now we are Billy Bold
Three sad rebel songs from the Irish band, The Wolfe Tones’ album, The Rifles of the IRA and its look at Ireland at war with Britain in the early 20th century:
1. The Rifles of the IRA, written by Dominic Behan, brother of Brendan Behan and a fine song/writer in his own right.
In nineteen-hundred and sixteen
The forces of the crown
To take the orange, white, and green bombarded Dublin town
But in ’21, Britannia’s huns
Were forced to earn their pay
[Chorus]
And the Black and Tans
Like lightning ran
From the rifles of the I.R.A
[Verse 2]
They burned their way through Munster
And laid Leinster on the rack
In Connnacht and in Ulster
Marched the men of brown and black
They shot down wives and children
In their own heroic way
[Chorus]
And the Black and Tans
Like lightning ran
From the rifles of the I.R.A
[Verse 3]
They hanged young Kevin Barry high
A lad of eighteen years
Cork city’s flames lit up the sky
But the brave boys knew no fear
The Cork Brigade with hand grenades
In ambush waiting lay
[Chorus]
And the Black and Tans
Like lightning ran
From the rifles of the I.R.A
[Verse 4]
The Tans were got, taken out and shot
By the brave and the valiant few
Seán Treacey, Dinny Lacey
And Tom Barry’s gallant crew
Though we’re not free yet
We won’t forget until our dying day
[Chorus]
How the Black and Tansl
Like lightning ran
From the rifles of the I.R.A
2. A Row in the Town (Erin Go Brath)
[Verse 1]
I’ll sing you a song of a row in the town
When the green flag went up and the crown flag came down
‘Twas the neatest and sweetest thing ever you saw
When they played that great game they called Erin Go Brath
[Verse 2]
God bless gallant Pearse and his comrades who died
Tom Clarke, MacDonagh, MacDermott, MacBride
And here’s to James Connolly who gave one hurrah
And faced the machine guns for Erin Go Brath
[Verse 3]
Now one of our leaders was down in Ringsend
For the honour of Ireland to uphold and defend
He had no veteran soldiers but volunteers raw
Playing sweet Mauser music for Erin Go Bragh
[Verse 4]
Old Ceannt and his comrades like lions that day
From the South Dublin Union poured death and dismay
But what was there-of, when the invaders’ men saw
All the dead khaki soldiers of Erin Go Brath
[Verse 5]
A great foreign captain was raving that day
Saying, “Give me one hour and I’ll blow you away”
But a big Mauser bullet got stuck in his jaw
And he died of lead poison on Erin Go Brath
[Verse 6]
Ah, glory to Dublin, to her do renown
In the long generations her fame will go down
And the children will tell how their forefathers saw
The red blaze of freedom o’er Erin Go Brath
3. Seán Treacy (Tipperary So Far Away)
[Verse 1]
The Moon, it shone down on Dublin Town
When the deadly fight was o’er
Thousands lay on?the?cold, cold ground
Their?lives to play no more
The Moon,?it shone down in O’Connell Street
Where a dying young rebel lay
With his body gashed and his arms outstretched
And his life’s blood flowin’ away
[Verse 2]
A passing comrade soon heard the moans
The sufferer soon was found
Softly, gently, they raised his head
Up from the cold, cold ground
Softly, gently, “Comrades”, he cried
“No longer on earth can I stay
I will never more roam to my own native home
Tipperary, so far away”
[Verse 3]
A lock of my hair, I pray you take
To my mother so dear to me
And tell her ’twas here by the Liffey side
My mouldering bones do lay
For it would grieve your heart
To see young men shot down
Their bodies thrown into the sea
And a vision of light came before me tonight
Of Tipperary so far away
[Verse 4]
The soldiers of Ireland bore him on high
On their shoulders with solemn dread
And many a heart with tearful sigh
Wept over our patriot dead
In silence they lowered him in the grave
To rest ’til the reckoning day
Seán Treacy who died his home to save
In Tipperary so far away
4. I also note the Irish national anthem, A Soldier’s Song which was penned by Peadar Kearney, an uncle to the Behan’s and was part of the 1916 Irish Uprising. He also wrote the second song in this grouping.
What powerful, evocative material, Peter C. There’s much to reflect upon in these striking song choices.
Before I forget, I congratulate all who have been involved in our passing the century mark – it’s always an achievement.
Thank you, Rick, for your selection of Wolfe Tones rebel numbers, as well as the info at the end of your latest material. There are so many quality Irish songs that would fit under the umbrella of our ‘war’ theme, aren’t there? I’ll list some more very soon.
And the Best song at all about Easter Week
The Foggy Dew (written by Father Charles O’Neill)
As down the glen one Easter morn
To a city fair rode I.
There armoured lines of marching men
In squadrons passed me by.
No pipe did hum, no battle drum
Did sound its loud tattoo
But the Angelus bell o’er the Liffy’s swell
Rang out in the foggy dew.
Right proudly high over Dublin town
They hung out that flag of war.
‘Twas better to die ‘neath an Irish sky
Than at Suvla or Sud el Bar.
And from the plains of Royal Meath
Strong men came hurrying through;
While Brittania’s sons with their long-range guns
Sailed in from the foggy dew.
oh the night fell black and the rifle’s crack
made perfidious Albion reel
mid the leaded rail seven tongues of flame
did shine o’re the lines of steel
by each shining blade a prayer was said
that to Ireland her sons be true
when the morning broke still the war flag shook
out its fold on the foggy dew
it was England bade our wild geese go
That small nations might be free.
Their lonely graves are by Suvla’s waves
On the fringe of the grey North Sea.
But had they died by Pearse’s side
Or fought with Cathal Bruagh,
Their graves we’d keep where the Fenians sleep
‘Neath the shroud of the foggy dew.
but the bravest fell, and the requiem bell
Rang mournfully and clear
For those who died that Eastertide
In the springing of the year.
And the world did gaze in deep amaze
At those fearless men and true
Who bore the fight that freedom’s light
Might shine through the foggy dew.
then back through that glen I rode again
and my heart with grief was sore
for I parted then with valiant men
whom I never shall see more
and back to and fro in dreams I’ll go
and I’ll kneel and pray for you
oh slavery fled oh glorious dead
when you fell in the foggy dew
And Now for the Spanish Civil War. Peter Cresswell posted Christy Moore’s version of Viva Le Quinte Brigada which I presume is an English translation of the Spanish song of the same name. I have a record of songs of the International Brigades which a friend of mine bought in the early 1960s. Many of the songs are in Spanish or German but the songs of the (American) Lincoln Brigade is English
Jarama Valley (to the tune of Red River Valley)
Words and music adaptation by Woody Guthrie, Pete Seeger & Lee Hays
There’s a valley in Spain called Jarama
It’s a place that we all know so well
It was there that we fought against the fascists
We saw a peaceful valley turn to hell
From this valley they say we are going
But don’t hasten to bid us adieu
Even though we lost the battle at Jarama
We’ll set this valley free before we’re through
We were men of the Lincoln Battalion
We’re proud of the fight that we made
We know that you people of the valley
Will remember our Lincoln Brigade
From this valley they say we are going
But don’t hasten to bid us adieu
Even though we lost the battle at Jarama
We’ll set this valley free before we’re through
You will never find peace with these fascists
You will never find friends such as we
So remember that valley of Jarama
And the people that’ll set that valley free
From this valley they say that we are going
But don’t hasten to bid us adieu
Even though we lost the battle at Jarama
We’ll set this valley free before we’re through
All this world is like this valley called Jarama
So green and so bright and so fair
No fascists can dwell in our valley
Nor breathe in our new freedom’s air
From this valley they say we are going
But don’t hasten to bid us adieu
Even though we lost the battle at Jarama
We’ll set this valley free before we’re through
Some of the other songs from this record are
The Four Insurgent Generals
Freiheit (Freedom)
The Peat Bog Soldiers
Hans Beimler
La Quince Brigada
The student Hard Left (to which I belonged) would sing some of these songs at parties in the mid sixties. I am still glad we did, even if I am a little embarrassed by a Tom Lehrer song about lefty folk singers.
The Folk Song Army
We are the Folk Song Army
Every one of us cares
We all hate poverty, war, and injustice
Unlike the rest of you squares
(verse 5)
Remember the war against Franco?
That’s the kind where each of us belongs.
Though he may have won all the battles,
We had all the good songs!
What a highly interesting set of song selections, Dave. I thought they were all excellent in terms of impact and general quality. I must admit a sneaky leaning to Tom Lehrer’s ‘The Folk Song Army’. It reminded me of a very different, very dark WW1 poem by Arthur Graeme West (1891-1917). The poem is reproduced in full below:
God! How I Hate You!
God! How I hate you, you young cheerful men,
Whose pious poetry blossoms on your graves
As soon as you are in them, nurtured up
By the salt of your corruption, and the tears
Of mothers, local vicars, college deans,
And flanked by prefaces and photographs
From all you minor poet friends — the fools —
Who paint their sentimental elegies
Where sure, no angel treads; and, living, share
The dead’s brief immortality
Oh Christ!
To think that one could spread the ductile wax
Of his fluid youth to Oxford’s glowing fires
And take her seal so ill! Hark how one chants —
“Oh happy to have lived these epic days” —
“These epic days”! And he’d been to France,
And seen the trenches, glimpsed the huddled dead
In the periscope, hung in the rusting wire:
Choked by their sickley fœtor, day and night
Blown down his throat: stumbled through ruined hearths,
Proved all that muddy brown monotony,
Where blood’s the only coloured thing. Perhaps
Had seen a man killed, a sentry shot at night,
Hunched as he fell, his feet on the firing-step,
His neck against the back slope of the trench,
And the rest doubled up between, his head
Smashed like an egg-shell, and the warm grey brain
Spattered all bloody on the parados:
Had flashed a torch on his face, and known his friend,
Shot, breathing hardly, in ten minutes — gone!
Yet still God’s in His heaven, all is right
In the best possible of worlds. The woe,
Even His scaled eyes must see, is partial, only
A seeming woe, we cannot understand.
God loves us, God looks down on this out strife
And smiles in pity, blows a pipe at times
And calls some warriors home. We do not die,
God would not let us, He is too “intense,”
Too “passionate,” a whole day sorrows He
Because a grass-blade dies. How rare life is!
On earth, the love and fellowship of men,
Men sternly banded: banded for what end?
Banded to maim and kill their fellow men —
For even Huns are men. In heaven above
A genial umpire, a good judge of sport,
Won’t let us hurt each other! Let’s rejoice
God keeps us faithful, pens us still in fold.
Ah, what a faith is ours (almost, it seems,
Large as a mustard-seed) — we trust and trust,
Nothing can shake us! Ah, how good God is
To suffer us to be born just now, when youth
That else would rust, can slake his blade in gore,
Where very God Himself does seem to walk
The bloody fields of Flanders He so loves!
(from The Diary of a Dead Officer [1919])
Great call Dave N with The Foggy Dew! And so many other songs you put forward.
Peter C throwing the Tom Waits song in stirred my memory. I went through the list of songs for this theme and I don’t think the following Tom Waits songs have been put forward yet:
Hell Broke Luce:
[Verse 1]
I had a good home but I left
I had a good home but I left, right, left
That big fucking bomb made me deaf, deaf
A Humvee mechanic put his Kevlar on wrong
I guarantee you’ll meet up with a suicide bomb
[Refrain]
And Hell broke luce
Hell broke luce
[Verse 2]
Big fucking ditches in the middle of the road
You pay a hundred dollars just for fillin’ in the hole
Listen to the general, every goddamn word
How many ways can you polish up a turd
And left, right
Left, left, right
Left, right
[Refrain]
Hell broke luce
Hell broke luce
Hell broke luce
[Verse 3]
How is it that the only ones responsible for making this mess
Got their sorry asses stapled to a goddamn desk
[Refrain]
And Hell broke luce
Hell broke luce
Left, right, left
[Verse 4]
What did you do before the war?
I was a chef, I was a chef
What was your name?
It was Geoff, Geoff
I lost my buddy and I wept, wept
I come down from the meth
So I slept, slept
I had a good home but I left, left
[Verse 5]
Pantsed at the wind for a joke
I pranced right in with the dope
Glanced at her shin, she said nope
Left, right, left
Nimrod Bodfish, have you any wool
Get me another body bag, the body bag’s full
And my face was scorched, scorched
I miss my home, I miss my porch, porch
Left, right, left
Can I go home in March? (March)
My stanch was a chin full of soap
That rancid dinner with the pope
And left, right, left
Verse 6]
Kelly Presutto got his thumbs blown off
Sergio’s developing a real bad cough
Sergio’s developing a real bad cough
[Refrain]
And Hell broke luce
Hell broke luce
Hell broke luce
[Verse 7]
Boom went his head away
And boom went Valerie, huh
What the hell was it that the president said?
Give ’em all a beautiful parade instead
And left, right, left
While I was over here I never got to vote
I left my arm in my coat
My mom, she died and never wrote
We sat by the fire and ate a goat
Just before he died he had a toke
Now I’m home, and I’m blind, and I’m broke
What is next?
Shore Leave – Well with buckshot eyes and a purple heart/I rolled down the national stroll/With a big fat paycheck strapped to my hip sack/And a shore leave wristwatch underneath my sleeve/In a Hong Kong drizzle on Cuban heels/I rowed down the gutter to the blood bank/And I’d left all my papers on the Ticonderoga/And I was in bad need of a shave/I slopped at the corner on cold chow mein/And shot billiards with a midget until the rain stopped/And I bought a long-sleeved shirt with horses on the front/And some gum and a lighter and a knife/And a new deck of cards with girls on the back/And I sat down and wrote a letter to my wife
A Good Man is Hard to Find – A long-dead soldier looks out from the frame/No one remembers his war, no one remembers his name/Go out to the meadow, scare off all the crows/It does nothing but rain here, nothing grows/A good man is hard to find/Only strangers sleep in my bed/And my favorite words are good-bye/And my favorite color is/My favorite color is/My favorite color is red
Day After Tomorrow – You can’t deny/The other side/Don’t wanna die/Any more than we do/What I’m tryin’ to say/Is, don’t they pray/To the same God/That we do?/Tell me/How does God choose?/Whose prayers does he refuse?/Who turns the wheel/Who throws the dice/On the Day After Tomorrow?/I am not fighting/For justice/I am not fighting/For freedom/I am fighting/For my life/And another day in the World here/I just do what I’ve been told/We’re just the gravel on the road/And only the lucky/Ones come home/On the Day After Tomorrow/And the summer/It too will fade/And with it brings/The winter’s frost dear/And I know/We too are made/Of all the things/That we have lost here/I’ll be twenty – one today/I been savin’ all my pay/And my plane/Will touch down/On the Day After Tomorrow/And my plane/It will touch down/On the Day After Tomorrow
Hoist that Rag
Well I learned the trade from Piggy Knowles
Sing Sing Tommy Shay Boys
God used me as a hammer, boys
To beat his weary drum today
Hoist that rag, Hoist that rag, Hoist that rag
The sun is up, the world is flat
Damn good address for a rat
The smell of blood, the drone of flies
You know what to do if the baby cries
Hoist that rag, Hoist that rag, Hoist that rag
Well, we stick our fingers in the ground
Heave and turn the world around
Smoke is blacking out the sun
At night, I pray and clean my gun
The cracked bell rings and the ghost bird sings
And the gods go begging here
So just open fire when you hit the shore
All is fair in love and war
Hoist that rag, Hoist that rag, Hoist that rag
Excellent collection of Tom Waits ‘war’ songs, thanks Rick. It surprised me that there were so many.
Some soul songs about Vietnam, there’s a lot of soul songs about Vietnam:
I Believe I’m Gonna Make It, Joe Tex – Listen, baby (ooh, oh baby)/I wished a thousand times/That we had gotten married/Before I left home for Vietnam/But then when I see so many of my buddies/Getting’ shot down all around me/Makes me kinda glad that we waited/Because I don’t wanna leave you/At home being a widow, no/I know you understand, babe/Listen darling/They promised me a furlough on the fifteenth of next month/And I want you to say a prayer tonight/That my furlough will come through/So I can come home to be with you/And tomorrow, oh tomorrow/Go by and tell my mom and daddy/That I love ’em/And for ’em not to worry about me
Don’t Cry My Love, The Impressions, featuring Curtis Mayfield – I can see no reason for our fighting this time/So many have gone and it’s a shame and a crime/So much wrongdoing here I pretend not to see/But it makes me sometimes wonder/Everybody’s free here but me/Well, come on now/Don’t cry my love, I’ll be back/Don’t cry my sister, now that’s no way to act/I’m goin’ to war to find my long lost brother/Bring him home safe for our worried mother/Come on now
Soldier’s Goodbye, William Bell – Baby I’ve got to leave you/But I don’t want you to cry/I’ve been called to war/And I’ve got to say bye-bye/The train is waiting/I’ve got my bag in my hand/I’ve got to go fight this war/In a foreign land/Now can’t you hear the whistle blow/I know you hear that old whistle blow/Every night it just keeps blowing/I can hear that whistle blow/Please. please, wait for me/Don’t let our love go astray/’Cause this train that I’m leaving on/Will bring me back to you someday
Bring The Boys Home, Freda Payne – Fathers are pleading, lovers are all alone/Mothers are praying–send our sons back home/You marched them away–yes, you did–on ships and planes/To the senseless war, facing death in vain/Bring the boys home (bring ’em back alive)
Christmas in the Trenches – John McCutcheon (This song describes a real incident)
My name is Francis Tolliver. I come from Liverpool
Two years ago the war was waiting for me after school
To Belgium and to Flanders, to Germany to here
I fought for King and country I love dear
It was Christmas in the trenches where the frost so bitter hung
The frozen field of France were still, no Christmas song was sung
Our families back in England were toasting us that day
Their brave and glorious lads so far away
I was lyin’ with my mess-mates on the cold and rocky ground
When across the lines of battle came a most peculiar sound
Says I “Now listen up me boys”, each soldier strained to hear
As one young German voice sang out so clear
“He’s singin’ bloody well you know”, my partner says to me
Soon one by one each German voice joined in in harmony
The cannons rested silent. The gas cloud rolled no more
As Christmas brought us respite from the war
As soon as they were finished a reverent pause was spent
‘God rest ye merry, gentlemen’ struck up some lads from Kent
The next they sang was ‘Stille Nacht”. “Tis ‘Silent Night'” says I
And in two toungues one song filled up that sky
“There’s someone commin’ towards us” the front-line sentry cried
All sights were fixed on one lone figure trudging from their side
His truce flag, like a Christmas star, shone on that plain so bright
As he bravely strode, unarmed, into the night
Then one by one on either side walked into no-mans-land
With neither gun nor bayonet we met there hand to hand
We shared some secret brandy and wished each other well
And in a flare-lit soccer game we gave ’em hell
We traded chocolates, cigarettes and photgraphs from home
These sons and fathers far away from families of their own
Young Sanders played his squeeze box and they had a violin
This curious and unlikely band of men
Soon daylight stole upon us and France was France once more
With sad farewells we each began to settle back to war
But the question haunted every heart that lived that wonderous night
“whose family have I fixed within my sights?”
It was Christmas in the trenches where the frost so bitter hung
The frozen fields of France were warmed as songs of peace were sung
For the walls they’d kept between us to exact the work of war
Had been crumbled and were gone for ever more
My name is Francis Tolliver. In Liverpool I dwell
Each Christmas come since World War One I’ve learned it’s lessons well
That the ones who call the shots won’t be among the dead and lame
And on each end of the rifle we’re the same
The Pretty Drummer Boy – The Watersons (This song goes back to 1800. Steeleye Span recorded the song about six years after the Watersons but called it The Female Drummer. The lyrics however were the same as The Watersons’ version.)
I was brought up in Yorkshire and when I was sixteen
I ran away from home, my lads, and a soldier I became
With a fine cap and feathers, likewise a rattling drum
They learned me to play upon the rub-a-dub-a-dum
Chorus (after each verse):
With a fine cap and feathers, likewise a rattling drum
They learned her to play upon the rub-a-dub-a-dum
With her gentle waist so slender, and her fingers long and small
She could play upon the rub-a-dub the best of them all
And it’s many is the pranks that I saw amongst the French
And boldly I did fight, my boys, although I’m but a wench
And in buttoning up my trousers so often have I smiled
To think I lay with a thousand men and a maiden all the while
And they never found my secret out until this very hour
For they sent me up to London to be sentry at the Tower
And a lady fell in love with me and I told her I’s a maid
And she went unto my officer and my secret she betrayed
He unbuttoned up my red tunic and he found that it was true
“It’s a shame,” he says “to lose a pretty drummer boy like you.”
So now I must return to my mam and dad at home
And along with my bold comrades no longer can I roam
The Kerry Recruit – Trad (These lyrics are from the Dubliners but I first heard it frim The Exiles)
One mornin’ in March I was diggin’ the land
With me brogues on me feet and me spade in me hand
And says I to myself, such a pity to see
Such a fine strappin’ lad footin’ turf round Tralee
[Chorus]
Wid me toora men-ya
Wid me toora men-ya
Wid me toora men
Yora men yora men ya
[Verse 2]
So I buttered me brogues, shook hands with me spade
Then went off to the fair like a dashing young blade
When up comes a sergeant, he asks me to list
‘Arra, sergeant a gra, stick the bob in me fist’
[Verse 3]
Well the first thing they gave me it was a red coat
With a white strap of leather for to tie round me throat
They gave me a quare thing; I asked what was that
And they told me it was a cockade for me hat
[Verse 4]
The next thing they gave me they called it a gun
With powder and shot and a place for me thumb
Well first she spat fire and then she spat smoke
She gave a great leap that me shoulder near broke
[Verse 5]
Well the first place they sent me was down by the quay
On board of a warship bound for the Crimea
Three sticks in the middle all rolled round with sheets
Faith, she walked on the water without any feet
[Verse 6]
When at Balaclava we landed quite sound
Both cold, wet and hungry we lay on the ground
Next morning for action the bugle did call
And we had a hot breakfast of powder and ball
[Verse 7]
Well we fought at the Alma, likewise Inkermann
And the Russians they whaled us at the Redan
In scaling the wall there myself lost me eye
And a big Russian bullet she ran away with me thigh
[Verse 8]
Was there we lay bleeding
Stretched on the cold ground
Both heads, legs and arms were all scattered around
I thought of me mam, and me cleaveens were nigh
Sure they’d bury me dacent and raise a loud cry
[Verse 9]
Well a doctor was called
And he soon stanched me blood
And they gave me a fine elegant leg made of wood
They gave me a medal and ten pence a day
Contented with Sheelagh, I’ll live on half-pay
Thank you, Rick, for your Vietnam-related soul songs. My sense is that you are so right in indicating that ‘American soul songs related to the Vietnam War’ is a sub-genre in itself.
Thanks, Dave, for your latest contributions – fine, fitting material as always. ‘Christmas in the Trenches’ describes very well-known incident, of course – how incredibly strange and powerful it must have been to be a soldier involved in that, and then to return to fighting as soon as it was over.
Heavy hitters:
Backlash Blues, Nina Simone, lyrics by the great poet, Langston Hughes, incidentally Paul Kelly used his poem Life is Fine as lyrics to his song and the name of the album – Mr. Backlash, Mr. Backlash/Just who do you think I am?/You raise my taxes, freeze my wages/And send my son to Vietnam/You give me second class houses/And second class schools/Do you think that all colored folks/Are just second class fools?/Oh, Mr. Backlash, I’m gonna leave you/With the backlash blues
There is a War, Leonard Cohen – There is a war between the rich and poor/A war between the man and the woman/There is a war between the ones who say there is a war/And the ones who say that there isn’t/Why don’t you come on back to the war?/That’s right, get in it/Why don’t you come on back to the war?/It’s just beginning/Well, I live here with a woman and a child/The situation makes me kind of nervous/Yes, I rise up from her arms, she says/”I guess you call this love, I call it service”/Why don’t you come on back to the war?/Don’t be a tourist/Why don’t you come on back to the war?/Before it hurts us
Vietnam Blues, Dave Dudley, written by Kris Kristofferson in 1965 from a soldier’s perspective and reflecting the prevailing view of the American people in ’65. Four years later sentiment to the war had changed significantly, as had Kristofferson’s – I was out on the leave at the time just duckin’ the fog nosin’ around like a hungry dog/In that crazy place called Washington DC/I saw a crowd of people on the White House lawn all carrying signs about Vietnam/So I went over to see what was goin’ on/It was a strange looking bunch but then I never could understand some people/Oh a fellow came to me with a list in his hand he said we’re gatherin’ names to send/The telegram of sympathy then he handed me a pen/I said I reckon this is goin’ to kids and wives/My friends over there who’re givin’ their lives/He said ah ah buddy this is goin’ to Ho-Chi-Min/I said Ho-Chi who he said Ho-Chi-Min people’s leader North Vietnam/Oh I wasn’t really sure I was hearin’ him right/I though I’d better move before I got in a fight
Murder Most Foul, Dylan, the last four lines of this remarkable parable engage songs of soldiers, war and fighting to death for what one believes, this is Dylan at his most profound, standing up for democracy as the American way – Play “Marching Through Georgia” and “Dumbarton’s Drums”/Play darkness, and death will come when it comes/Play “Love Me Or Leave Me” by the great Bud Powell/Play “The Blood-stained Banner”, play “Murder Most Foul”
Thank you for your heavy hitters, Rick. Love it when, to use baseball parlance, you go ‘swingin’ for the stands’!
The Falklands War led to the BBC foolishly banning Split Enz’ Six Months In A Leaky Boat
Interesting, Swish. I vaguely recall this happening but can’t remember why. Care to illuminate us?
Per Wikipedia
“The song became a top-10 hit in Australia, New Zealand, and Canada, and voted the fifth-best New Zealand song ever in the 2001 Australasian Performing Right Association list.[1] Its chart performance was less successful in the United Kingdom, owing to its release during the Falklands War. Despite being recorded before the outbreak of the conflict, some in Britain considered the song to be veiled criticism of the war with Argentina.[1] The song was removed from many radio playlists in the United Kingdom, including the BBC,[2] because it was considered that references to “leaky boats” were inappropriate during the naval action in the war.”
Inspired by your Split Enz song Swish, I was reminded of the US radio company, Clear Channel, following 9/11, strongly urging its franchisees to not play a list of songs it found to be “concerning”.
And from that list a few songs popped up for submission in this forum:
Love is a Battlefield, Pat Benatar
The Night Chicago Died, Paper Lace, with its reference, “In the heat of a summer night/In the land of the dollar bill/When the town of Chicago died/And they talk about it still/When a man named Al Capone/Tried to make that town his own/And he called his gang to war/With the forces of the law)
Even better, Billy Don’t Be a Hero, by Paper Lace as well – The soldier-blues were trapped on a hillside/The battle raging all around/The sergeant cried: “We’ve gotta hang on, boys/We’ve gotta hold this piece of ground/I need a volunteer to ride out/And bring us back some extra men”/And Billy’s hand was up in a moment/Forgettin’ all the words she said. She said:/”Billy, don’t be a hero, don’t be a fool with your life/Billy, don’t be a hero, come back and make me your wife”/And as Billy started to go she said: “Keep your pretty head low/Billy, don’t be a hero, come back to me”
And finally, there is the following song, courtesy of the terrifying back to the future (growing up in the 70s) hall of mirrors that from the deep recess of the mind recalls songs by bands like Paper Lace:
Two Little Boys, Rolf Harris – Long years passed, war came so fast/Bravely they marched away/Cannon roared loud, and in the mad crowd/Wounded and dying lay/Up goes a shout, a horse dashes out/Out from the ranks so blue/Gallops away to where Joe lay/Then came a voice he knew/”Did you think I would leave you dying/When there’s room on my horse for two?
Thanks, Swish, for the follow up info. Holy mackerel!
Thank you, Rick, for your latest material – as interesting as ever.
Did anyone say Zevon? Here we go:
Roland the Headless Thomson Gunner – Roland was a warrior/From the Land of the Midnight Sun/With a Thompson gun for hire/Fighting to be done/The deal was made in Denmark/On a dark and stormy day/So he set out for Biafra/To join the bloody fray/Through sixty-six and seven/They fought the Congo war/With their fingers on their triggers/Knee-deep in gore/For days and nights they battled/The Bantu to their knees/They killed to earn their living/And to help out the Congolese
The Envoy – Nuclear arms in the Middle East/Israel’s attacking the Iraqis/The Syrians are mad at the Lebanese/And Baghdad does whatever she please/Looks like another threat to world peace for the envoy/Things got hot in El Salvador/CIA got caught and couldn’t do no more/He’s got diplomatic immunity/He’s got a lethal weapon that nobody sees/Looks like another threat to world peace for the envoy/Send the envoy/Send the envoy
Veracruz – Someone called Maria’s name/I swear it was my father’s voice/Saying, “If you stay you’ll all be slain/You must leave now, you have no choice”/Take the servants and ride west/Keep the child close to your chest/When the American troops withdraw/Let Zapata take the rest/I heard Woodrow Wilson’s guns/I heard Maria calling/Veracruz is dying/And Cuernavaca’s fallen
Genius – Mata Hari had a house in France/Where she worked on all her secret plans/Men were falling for her sight unseen/She was a genius
Play it All Night Long, a marginal if that connection to the theme – Grandpa pissed his pants again/He don’t give a damn/Brother Billy has both guns drawn/He ain’t been right since Vietnam
Thanks for some superb Zevon material, Rick. Is there any other kind?
AND A NEW SONG THEM WILL COMMENCE THIS COMING FRIDAY 22 MAY!
One last contribution before the new theme commences.
We have mentioned many wars in this thread but only a couple of mentions of the American Civil War. What follows in this contribution is not the result of detailed research. In the 90s Ken Burns brought out his brilliant documentary on the Civil War. A record was released to accompany the documentary. I haven’t included every song on the CD but a lot of them.
John Brown’s Body
John Brown’s body lies a-mold’ring in the grave
John Brown’s body lies a-mold’ring in the grave
John Brown’s body lies a-mold’ring in the grave
His soul goes marching on
Glory, Glory! Hallelujah!
Glory, Glory! Hallelujah!
Glory, Glory! Hallelujah!
His soul is marching on
He captured Harper’s Ferry with his nineteen men so true
He frightened old Virginia till she trembled through and through
They hung him for a traitor, themselves the traitor crew
His soul is marching on
Glory, Glory! Hallelujah!
Glory, Glory! Hallelujah!
Glory, Glory! Hallelujah!
His soul is marching on
John Brown died that the slave might be free
John Brown died that the slave might be free
John Brown died that the slave might be free
But his soul is marching on!
Glory, Glory! Hallelujah!
Glory, Glory! Hallelujah!
Glory, Glory! Hallelujah!
His soul is marching on
This became The Battle Hymn of the Republic when Lincoln wanted something more uplifting (I prefer John Brown)
Mine eyes hath seen the glory of the coming of the Lord;
He is trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored;
He hath loosed the fateful lightning of His terrible swift sword;
His truth is marching on.
[Chorus]
Glory! Glory! Hallelujah! Glory! Glory! Hallelujah!
Glory! Glory! Hallelujah! His truth is marching on.
[Verse 2]
I have seen Him in the watch fires of a hundred circling camps
They have builded Him an altar in the evening dews and damps;
I can read His righteous sentence by the dim and flaring lamps;
His day is marching on.
[Chorus]
Glory! Glory! Hallelujah! Glory! Glory! Hallelujah!
Glory! Glory! Hallelujah! His truth is marching on.
[Verse 3]
I have read a fiery Gospel writ in burnished rows of steel;
“As ye deal with My contemners, so with you My grace shall deal”;
Let the Hero, born of woman, crush the serpent with His heel,
Since God is marching on.
He has sounded forth the trumpet that shall never call retreat;
He is sifting out the hearts of men before His judgment seat;
Oh, be swift, my soul, to answer Him! be jubilant, my feet;
Our God is marching on.
[Chorus]
Glory! Glory! Hallelujah! Glory! Glory! Hallelujah!
Glory! Glory! Hallelujah! His truth is marching on.
[Verse 5]
In the beauty of the lilies Christ was born across the sea,
With a glory in His bosom that transfigures you and me:
As He died to make men holy, let us die to make men free;
While God is marching on.
[Chorus]
Glory! Glory! Hallelujah! Glory! Glory! Hallelujah!
Glory! Glory! Hallelujah! His truth is marching on.
[Verse 6]
He is coming like the glory of the morning on the wave,
He is wisdom to the mighty, He is honor to the brave;
So the world shall be His footstool, and the soul of wrong His slave,
Our God is marching on.
The Southern Soldier Boy – lyrics published in 1863
Bob Roebuck is my sweetheart’s name,
He’s off to the wars and gone
He’s fighting for his Nannie dear,
His sword is buckled on;
He’s fighting for his own true love,
His foes he does defy
He is the darling of my heart,
My Southern Soldier Boy
Yo! ho! Yo! ho! Yo! ho ho ho ho ho ho! ho!
He is my only joy, He is the darling of my heart,
My Southern Soldier Boy.
When Bob comes home from war’s alarms,
We’ll start anew in life,
I’ll give myself right up to him
A dutiful loving wife.
I’ll try my best to please my dear,
He is the darling of my heart,
My Southern Soldier Boy.
Oh! If in battle he was slain,
I am sure that I should die,
But I am sure he’ll come again
And cheer my weeping eye;
But should he fall in this our glorious cause,
He still would be my joy,
For many a sweetheart mourns the loss
Of a Southern Soldier Boy.
I hope for the best, and so do all
Whose hopes are in the field
I know that we shall win the day,
For Southrons never yield,
And when we think of those that are away,
We’ll look above for joy,
And I’m mighty glad that my Bobby is
A Southern Soldier Boy!
Rebel Soldier (Appalachian folk song)
Oh Polly Oh Polly its for your sake alone
I have left my old Father, my Country, my home
I have left my old Mother to weep and to mourn
I am a rebel soldier, and far from my home
The grape shot and musket and the cannons lumber lie
Its many a mangled body the blanket for the shroud
Its many a mangled body left on the fields alone
I am a rebel soldier and far from my home
Here is a good old cup of brandy and a glass of wine
You can drink to your true love and I will drink to mine
You can drink to your true love and I will lament and moan
I am a rebel soldier and far from my home
I will build me a castle on some green mountain high
Where I can see Polly when she is passing by
Where I can see Polly and help her to mourn
I am a rebel soldier and far from my home
Was My Brother in the Battle – written by Stephen Foster
Tell me, tell me, weary soldier from the rude and stirring wars,
Was my brother in the battle where you gained those noble scars?
He was ever brave and valiant, and I know he never fled.
Was his name among the wounded or numbered with the dead?
Was my brother in the battle when the tide of war ran high?
You would know him in a thousand by his dark and flashing eye.
Chorus:
Tell me, tell me, weary soldier, will he never come again,
Did he suffer ‘mid the wounded, did he die among the slain?
Was my brother in the battle when the noble Highland host
Were so wrongfully outnumbered on the Carolina coast?
Did he struggle for the Union ‘mid the thunder and the rain,
Till he fell among the brave upon a bleak Virginia plain?
Oh, I’m sure that he was dauntless and his courage ne’er would lag
While contending for the honor of our dear and cherished flag.
Chorus
Was my brother in the battle when the flag of Erin came
To the rescue of our banner and protection of our fame,
While the fleet from off the waters poured out terror and dismay
Till the bold and erring foe fell like leaves on Autumn day?
When the bugle called to battle and the cannon deeply roared,
Oh! I wish I could have seen him draw his sharp and shining sword.
Chorus
Give Us a Flag – written by an anonymous member of the 54th Regiment. (The story of the Black Regiment was told in the film Glory)
Oh, Fremont he told them when the war it first begun
How to save the Union and the way it should be done
But Kentucky swore so hard and Old Abe he had his fears
Till ev’ry hope was lost but the colored volunteers
Chorus
Oh, give us a flag
All free without a slave;
We’ll fight to defend it as our fathers did so brave;
The gallant Comp’ny “A”
Will make the rebels dance
And we’ll stand by the Union if we only have a chance
McClellan went to Richmond with two hundred thousand brave;
He said, “Keep back the n***ers” and the Union he would save;
Little Mac he had his way, still the Union is in tears
Now they call for the help of the colored volunteers
Chorus
Old Jeff says he’ll hang us if we dare to meet him armed
A very big thing , but we are not at all alarmed;
For he first has got to catch us before the way is clear
And that is “what’s the matter” with the colored volunteer
Chorus
So rally, boys, rally, let us never mind the past;
We had a hard road to travel, but our day is coming fast;
For God is for the right, and we have no need to fear
The Union must be saved by the colored volunteer
Chorus
Then here is to the 54th, which has been nobly tried
They were willing, they were ready, with their bayonets by their side
Colonel Shaw led them on and he had no cause to fear
About the courage of the colored volunteer
Chorus
An Old Unreconstructed – Tradiitional
I rode with old Jeb Stuart
And his band of Southern horse
And there never were no Yankees
Who could meet us force to force
No they never did defeat us
But we never could evade
Their dirty, foreign politics
And cowardly blockade
Well we hadn’t any powder
And we hadn’t any shot
And we hadn’t any money
To buy what we ain’t got
So we rode our worn-out horses
And we ate on plain cornmeal
And we licked’em where we caught’em
With Southern guts and steel
Well, we sunk the ship at Sumter
And we broke her plumb in two
We showed them bully Yankees
Just what we aimed to do
At a little creek called Bull Run
We took their starry rag
To wipe our horses down with
And I ain’t here to brag
Well, there aren’t as many left of us
Who rode out at the start
And then there are the weary
Weak in body sad of heart
We fought a fight to tell about
And I am here to say
I’ll climb my horse and follow Marse
Come hell, come any day
Vacant Chair – lyrics written Henry Washburn iin honour of Lt John William Grout who fell at the Battle of Balls Bluff in 1861.
We shall meet but we shall miss him.
There will be one vacant chair.
We shall linger to caress him
While we breathe our ev’ning prayer.
When one year ago we gathered,
Joy was in his mild blue eye.
Now the golden cord is severed,
And our hopes in ruin lie.
Chorus:
We shall meet, but we shall miss him.
There will be one vacant chair.
We shall linger to caress him
While we breathe our ev’ning prayer.
At our fireside, sad and lonely,
Often will the bosom swell
At remembrance of the story
How our noble Willie fell.
How he strove to bear the banner
Thro’ the thickest of the fight
And uphold our country’s honor
In the strength of manhood’s might.
Chorus
True, they tell us wreaths of glory
Evermore will deck his brow,
But this soothes the anguish only,
Sweeping o’er our heartstrings now.
Sleep today, O early fallen,
In thy green and narrow bed.
Dirges from the pine and cypress
Mingle with the tears we shed.
Chorus
Marching Through Georgia – written by Henry Clay Work (celebrates Sherman’s March to the Sea which imposed a scorched earth policy on the State of Georgia and destroyed much of its infra structure. The song is not popular in the South)
Bring the good old bugle boys, we’ll sing another song!
Sing it with the spirit that will start the world along!
Sing it as we used to sing it, 50, 000 strong!
While we were marching through Georgia!
Hurrah! Hurrah! We bring the jubilee!
Hurrah! Hurrah! The flag that makes you free!
So we sang the chorus from Atlanta to the sea!
While we were marching through Georgia!
There were many Union men who wept with joyful tears!
When they saw the honored flag they had not seen for years!
Hardly could they be restrained from breaking forth in cheers!
While we were marching through Georgia!
Hurrah! Hurrah! We bring the jubilee!
Hurrah! Hurrah! The flag that makes you free!
So we sang the chorus from Atlanta to the sea!
While we were marching through Georgia!
So we made a thoroughfare for Freedom and her train!
Sixty miles in lattitude, three hundred to the Maine!
Treason fled before us for resistance was in vain!
While we were marching through Georgia!
Hurrah! Hurrah! We bring the jubilee!
Hurrah! Hurrah! The flag that makes you free!
So we sang the chorus from Atlanta to the sea!
While we were marching,
While we were marching,
While we were marching through Georgia!
When Johnny Comes Marching Home – written in 1863 by Patrick Gilmore
When Johnny comes marching home again, Hurrah, hurrah!
We’ll give him a hearty welcome then, Hurrah, hurrah!
The men will cheer, the boys will shout,
The ladies, they will all turn out,
And we’ll all feel gay when Johnny comes marching home.
The old church bell will peal with joy, Hurrah, hurrah!
To welcome home our darling boy, Hurrah, hurrah!
The village lads and lassies say,
With roses they will strew the way,
And we’ll all feel gay when Johnny comes marching home.
Get ready for the Jubilee, Hurrah, hurrah!
We’ll give the hero three times three, Hurrah, hurrah!
The laurel wreath is ready now
To place upon his loyal brow,
And we’ll all feel gay when Johnny comes marching home.
Let love and friendship on that day, Hurrah, hurrah!
Their choicest treasures then display, Hurrah, hurrah!
And let each one perform some part,
To fill with joy the warrior’s heart,
And we’ll all feel gay when Johnny comes marching home.
When Johnny comes marching home again, Hurrah, hurrah!
We’ll give him a hearty welcome then, Hurrah, hurrah!
The men will cheer, the boys will shout,
The ladies, they will all turn out,
And we’ll all feel gay when Johnny comes marching home.
You’ve added some superb material to this ‘war’ theme, Dave. You’re certainly right to indicate that the American Civil War has been underrepresented in our musical choices and you’ve gone a long way towards remedying that. Ken Burns’ documentary series is one of the all-time best of its kind, in my opinion, so I agree with you about its quality, even if occasionally Burns’ mythologising of his subject matter via – for example – the Civil War soldiers’ letters voiced by excellent actors, sometimes lulls us into the thinking that some of these soldiers could write high style prose to the level of F. Scott Fitzgerald at his best!
A couple of classic songs from World War One from the view of the foot soldiers that should be in this thread even if we are now working on a different thread. The first one is Australian, the second is English.
Dinki Di – Anon
He came over to London and straight away strode,
To Army Headquarters in Horseferry Road,
To see all the bludgers who dodge all the strafe,
By getting soft jobs on the headquarters staff.
Dinki di, dinki di,
By getting soft jobs on the headquarters staff.
A lousy lance-corporal said, “Pardon me, please,
You’ve mud on your tunic and blood on your sleeve,
You look so disgraceful the people will laugh,”
Said the lousy lance-corporal on the headquarters staff.
Dinki di, dinki di,
Said the lousy lance-corporal on the headquarters staff.
The digger then shot him a murderous glance;
He said, “We’re just back from the balls-up in France,
Where bullets are flying and comforts are few,
And brave men are dying for bastards like you.
Dinki di, dinki di,
And brave men are dying for bastards like you.
“We’re shelled on the left and we’re shelled on the right,
We’re bombed all the day and we’re bombed all the night,
And if something don’t happen, and that pretty soon,
There’ll be nobody left in the bloody platoon;
Dinki di, dinki di,
There’ll be nobody left in the bloody platoon.”
This story soon got to the ears of Lord Gort,
Who gave the whole matter a great deal of thought,
He awarded the digger a V.C. and two bars,
For giving that corporal a kick up the arse;
Dinki di, dinki di,
For giving that corporal a kick up the arse.
Now when this war’s over and we’re out of here,
We’ll see him in Sydney town begging for beer.
He’ll ask for a dina to buy a small glass,
But all he’ll get is a kick in the arse.
Dinki di, dinki di,
But all he’ll get is a kick in the arse.
(I have also heard this sung with the chorus
Dinki di. dinki di
For I am a digger who won’t tell a lie.
Hanging On The Old Barbed Wire – Anon
If you want to find the General, I know where he is,
I know where he is, I know where he is.
If you want to find the General, I know where he is,
He’s pinning another medal on his chest.
I saw him, I saw him, pinning another medal on his chest,
I saw him, pinning another medal on his chest.
If you want to find the Colonel, I know where he is,
I know where he is, I know where he is.
If you want to find the Colonel, I know where he is,
He’s sitting in comfort stuffing his bloody gut.
I saw him, I saw him, sitting in comfort stuffing his bloody gut,
I saw him, sitting in comfort stuffing his bloody gut.
If you want to find the Sergeant, I know where he is,
I know where he is, I know where he is.
If you want to find the Sergeant, I know where he is,
He’s drinking all the Company rum.
I saw him, I saw him, drinking all the Company rum,
I saw him, drinking all the Company rum.
If you want to find the Private, I know where he is,
I know where he is, I know where he is.
If you want to find the Private, I know where he is,
He’s hanging on the old barbed wire.
I saw him, I saw him, hanging on the old barbed wire,
I saw him, hanging on the old barbed wire.
Thanks for these WW1 songs, Dave – well worth adding to our list of war songs, that’s for sure. While I’m here, I’ll add a couple more from that era: George M. Cohan’s patriotic ‘Over There’ and the quirkier ‘Mademoiselle from Armentiere’.
Still adding to the War thread.
We listed Eric Bogle’s two best known anti-War songs but he actually wrote an interesting song about Vietnam (in the 1970s)
The War Correspondent – Eric Bogle
“Good evening ‘ I’m Ross Symons, with the news from A.B.C.
A record profit’s been announced by the Board of B.H.P.
In the second test in Perth, the Aussies face defeat
Whilst the drought in Western New South Wales means dearer cuts of meat
And our special correspondent in Saigon
Says three Australian soldiers have died in Vietnam
The special correspondent sat in a Saigon bar
With the help of Johnny Walker he pushed away the war
And questions with no answers that had rattled round his head
Had lost their urgent clarity and were faded round the edge
Thought tomorrow they’d again be sharp and clear
Tonight they had been lost amongst the bar girls and the beer
Ask a silly question, like why the heel you’re here
Learning how to live with death, suffering and fear,
War’s a game for soldiers; it’s not for men like you.
Is there something that you have to find, or something you must prove
Or are you hooked upon the adrenaline
That living on the edge of dying brings
But here you are in Vietnam; you’re a long way from home
Doing what you’re paid to do, the best way that you can
Objectively you watch the war, never taking sides
And what you feel, what you really feel, is hidden deep inside
You’re not being paid to moralize,
And anyway, a can lose his reason asking why.
And if you ever get back home, you’ll never be the same
The man that was before Vietnam can never be again,
But in ten years when you look back to weigh and count the cost,
Perhaps you’ll find that Vietnam gave you back more than you lost
And from it, if you learn nothing else,
Perhaps you may get to know yourself.
CODA:
Roll up, roll up and see the show, T.V. soldiers in a row
Hear them laugh, hear them cry, watch them run, see them die
It’s not in color, but that’s all right
War’s better viewed in black and white
White for us and black for them
With no gray shadows in between.
Bogle’s ‘The War Correspondent’ is an excellent addition to our war thread, Dave – thank you.