In response to a blog by a friend yesterday about their being just two WW1 vetrans alive now, got me thinking about this song. Its quite old, and English folk song, covered by many bands and singers. I knew it by The Men They Couldn't Hang from about 1985, but many others have covered it before and since.
We must never forget.
"Well, how do you do, Private William McBride,
Do you mind if I sit down here by your graveside?
And rest for awhile in the warm summer sun,
I've been walking all day, and I'm nearly done.
And I see by your gravestone you were only 19
When you joined the glorious fallen in 1916,
Well, I hope you died quick and I hope you died clean
Or, Willie McBride, was it slow and obscene?
Did they Beat the drum slowly, did the play the pipes lowly?
Did the rifles fir o'er you as they lowered you down?
Did the bugles sound The Last Post in chorus?
Did the pipes play the Flowers of the Forest?
And did you leave a wife or a sweetheart behind
In some loyal heart is your memory enshrined?
And, though you died back in 1916,
To that loyal heart are you forever 19?
Or are you a stranger without even a name,
Forever enshrined behind some glass pane,
In an old photograph, torn and tattered and stained,
And fading to yellow in a brown leather frame?
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, no 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.
Copyright: Eric Bogle
Copy & paste to friend: (Click inside box; Ctrl + C to copy; Ctrl + V to paste)
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read more blogs!
Blogs by jelltex:
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| The Greenfields of France |
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hereshannon
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Dec 23 @ 7:59AM
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There was also an interesting story in the news this week about the WWII Pearl Harbor vetrans. It seems a group of American vetrans got together with a group of Japanese vetrans and played a baseball game againsed each other! It was heart warming to see a group of men in their mid 80's still able to round the bases. They don't build em like they used to!
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UnicornLover1962
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Dec 23 @ 8:16AM
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such a sad song..such a true song
thank you for posting it.
mel
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enigmasrook
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Dec 23 @ 8:22AM
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Excellent. Emmylou Harris has a song called "1917" on her "Western Walls: The Tucson Sessions" CD with Linda Ronstadt....it is a grave but intimate song about soldiers fighting in France during WWI and a prostitute who gives them comfort for the last time before they see a most likely death.....really poignant.
Kudos, jell.
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enigmasrook
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Dec 23 @ 8:28AM
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"1917"
The strange young man who comes to me
A soldier on a three day spree
Who needs one night's cheap ecstasy
And a woman's arms to hide him
He greets me with a courtly bow
And hides his pain by acting proud
He drinks too much and he laughs too loud
How can I deny him?
Let us dance beneath the moon
I'll sing to you "Claire de Lune'
The morning always comes too soon
But tonight the war is over
He speaks to me in schoolboy French
Of a soldier's life inside a trench
Of the look of death and the ghastly stench
I do my best to please him
He puts two roses in a vase
Two roses sadly out of place
Like the gallant smile on his haggard face
Playfully I tease him
Hold me 'neath the Paris skies
Let's not talk of how or why
Tomorrow's soon enough to die
But tonight the war is over
We make love too hard too fast
He falls asleep, his face a mask
He wakes with the shakes and he drinks from his flask
I put my arms around him
They die in the trenches and they die in the air
In Belgium and France the dead are everywhere
They die so fast there's no time to prepare
A decent grave to surround them
Old world glory, old world fame
The old world's gone, gone up in flames
Nothing will ever be the same
And nothing lasts forever
Oh I'd pray for him but I've forgotten how
And there's nothing, nothing that can save him now
There's always another with the same funny bow
And who am I to deny them
I'm listening to it now. 
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patrickmaurice
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Dec 23 @ 8:51AM
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anyone know how to embed these lovely songs plz do.so we can listen to them ??????????????
the green fields of france ..........the furey brothers............am sure its on youtube 
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enigmasrook
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Dec 23 @ 8:56AM
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The Furies and Davey Arthur - The Greenfields of France
I haven't found "1917" yet...still looking.
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patrickmaurice
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Dec 23 @ 8:57AM
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Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them.
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ttomtarr
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Dec 23 @ 9:00AM
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Mr Bogle is a fine writer. Here are the lyrics to his song about the Australians landing in WWII and the parade on Anzak Day
THE BAND PLAYED WALTZING MATILDA
(Eric Bogle)
Now when I was a young man I carried me pack
And I lived the free life of the rover.
From the Murry's green basin to the dusty outback,
Well, I waltzed my Matilda all over.
Then in 1915 my country said, "Son,
It's time you stop rambling, there's work to be done."
So they gave me a tin hat and they gave me a gun
And they marched me away to the war.
And the band played Waltzing Matilda,
As the ship pulled away from the quay
And midst all the cheers, flag waving and tears,
We sailed off for Gallipoli
And how well I remember that terrible day,
How our blood stained the sand and the water
And of how in that hell that they called Suvla Bay
We were butchered like lambs at the slaughter.
Johnny Turk, he was ready, he primed himself well.
He showered us with bullets, and he rained us with shells,
And in five minutes flat, he'd blown us all to hell,
Nearly blew us back home to Australia.
(But) And the band played Waltzing Matilda,
As we stopped to bury our slain,
We buried ours, the Turks buried theirs,
Then we started all over again.
And those that were left, well we tried to survive
In that mad world of blood, death and fire.
And for ten weary weeks I kept myself alive
Though around me the corpses piled higher.
Then a big Turkish shell knocked me ass over head
And when I awoke in me hospital bed
And saw what it had done, well I wished I was dead.
Never knew there were worse things than dying.
For I'll go no more Waltzing Matilda,
All around the green bush far and free
To hump tent and pegs, a man needs both legs,
No more waltzing Matilda for me.
So they gathered the crippled, the wounded, and maimed,
And they shipped us back home to Australia.
The legless, the armless, the blind and insane,
Those proud wounded heroes of Suvla.
And when our ship pulled into Circular Quay
I looked at the place where me legs used to be
And I thank Christ there was no body waiting for me
To grieve, to mourn and to pity.
But the Band played Waltzing Matilda
As they carried us down the gangway,
But nobody cheered, they just stood and stared,
Then they turned all their faces away.
So now every April I sit on me porch
And I watch the parade pass before me.
And I see my old comrades, how proudly they march
Reviving old dreams and past glory,
And the old men march slowly, all bone stiff and sore
They're tired old heroes from a forgotten war
And the young people ask "What are they marching for?"
And I ask myself the same question.
But the band plays Waltzing Matilda,
And the old men still answer the call,
But as year follows year, more old men disappear
Someday, no one will march there at all.
Waltzing Matilda, Waltzing Matilda.
Who'll come a-Waltzing Matilda with me?
And their ghosts may be heard as they march by the billibong
Who'll come a-Waltzing Matilda with me?
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patrickmaurice
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Dec 23 @ 9:05AM
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THE BAND PLAYED WALTZING MATILDA by eric vogel Now when I was a young man I carried me pack
And I lived the free life of the rover.
From the Murray's green basin to the dusty outback,
Well, I waltzed my Matilda all over.
Then in 1915, my country said, "Son,
It's time you stop ramblin', there's work to be done."
So they gave me a tin hat, and they gave me a gun,
And they marched me away to the war.
And the band played "Waltzing Matilda,"
As the ship pulled away from the quay,
And amidst all the cheers, the flag waving, and tears,
We sailed off for Gallipoli.
And how well I remember that terrible day,
How our blood stained the sand and the water;
And of how in that hell that they call Suvla Bay
WJohnny Turk, he was waitin', he primed himself well;
He showered us with bullets, and he rained us with shell --
And in five minutes flat, he'd blown us all to hell,
Nearly blew us right back to Australia.
But the band played "Waltzing Matilda,"
When we stopped to bury our slain,
Well, we buried ours, and the Turks buried theirs,
Then we started all over again.
And those that were left, well, we tried to survive
In that mad world of blood, death and fire.
And for ten weary weeks I kept myself alive
Though around me the corpses piled higher.
Then a big Turkish shell knocked me arse over head,
And when I woke up in me hospital bed
And saw what it had done, well, I wished I was dead --
Never knew there was worse things than dying.
For I'll go no more "Waltzing Matilda,"
All around the green bush far and free --
To hump tents and pegs, a man needs both legs,
No more "Waltzing Matilda" for me.
So they gathered the crippled, the wounded, the maimed,
And they shipped us back home to Australia.
The armless, the legless, the blind, the insane,
Those proud wounded heroes of Suvla.
And as our ship sailed into Circular Quay,
I looked at the place where me legs used to be,
And thanked Christ there was nobody waiting for me,
To grieve, to mourn and to pity.
But the band played "Waltzing Matilda,"
As they carried us down the gangway,
But nobody cheered, they just stood and stared,
Then they turned all their faces away.
And so now every April, I sit on my porch
And I watch the parade pass before me.
And I see my old comrades, how proudly they march,
Reviving old dreams of past glory,
And the old men march slowly, all bones stiff and sore,
They're tired old heroes from a forgotten war
And the young people ask "What are they marching for?"
And I ask meself the same question.
But the band plays "Waltzing Matilda,"
And the old men still answer the call,
But as year follows year, more old men disappear
Someday, no one will march there at all.
Waltzing Matilda, waltzing Matilda.
Who'll come a-waltzing Matilda with me?
And their ghosts may be heard as they march by the billabong,
Who'll come a-Waltzing Matilda with me?
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ttomtarr
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Dec 23 @ 9:05AM
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Mr Bogle is a Scot who migrated to Aaustralia. The Irish group "The Dubliners", and others have recorded his moving music.
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enigmasrook
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Dec 23 @ 9:11AM
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Eric Bogle - The Band Played Waltzing Matilda
lovely.
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patrickmaurice
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Dec 23 @ 9:14AM
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well done thank you so much 
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enigmasrook
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Dec 23 @ 9:21AM
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Over There Jonathen Coulton
A little more contemporary...but I can't forget my countrymen and women.....ooh rah.
This is different but it is George M. Cohan's classic
Over There
Johnnie, get your gun,
Get your gun, get your gun,
Take it on the run,
On the run, on the run.
Hear them calling, you and me,
Every son of liberty.
Hurry right away,
No delay, go today,
Make your daddy glad
To have had such a lad.
Tell your sweetheart not to pine,
To be proud her boy's in line.
(chorus sung twice)
Johnnie, get your gun,
Get your gun, get your gun,
Johnnie show the Hun
Who's a son of a gun.
Hoist the flag and let her fly,
Yankee Doodle do or die.
Pack your little kit,
Show your grit, do your bit.
Yankee to the ranks,
From the towns and the tanks.
Make your mother proud of you,
And the old Red, White and Blue.
(chorus sung twice)
Chorus
Over there, over there,
Send the word, send the word over there -
That the Yanks are coming,
The Yanks are coming,
The drums rum-tumming
Ev'rywhere.
So prepare, say a pray'r,
Send the word, send the word to beware.
We'll be over, we're coming over,
And we won't come back till it's over
Over there.
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enigmasrook
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Dec 23 @ 9:27AM
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Jonathen Couton - Over There Theme Song
It looks like the above link is messed up....here it is. Very pretty song.
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ttomtarr
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Dec 23 @ 9:34AM
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This is an older song, from the period when Britian was conquering Celon (now Sri Lanka) The message is the same.
JOHNNY I HARDLY KNEW YE
While goin' the road to sweet Athy, hurroo, hurroo
While goin' the road to sweet Athy, hurroo, hurroo
While goin' the road to sweet Athy,
A stick in me hand and a drop in me eye,
A doleful damsel I heard cry,
Johnny I hardly knew ye.
With your drums and guns and drums and guns, hurroo, hurroo
With your drums and guns and drums and guns, hurroo, hurroo
With your drums and guns and drums and guns,
The enemy nearly slew ye
Oh my darling dear, Ye look so queer
Johnny I hardly knew ye.
Where are your eyes that were so mild, hurroo, hurroo
Where are your eyes that were so mild, hurroo, hurroo
Where are your eyes that were so mild,
When my heart you so beguiled
Why did ye run from me and the child
Oh Johnny, I hardly knew ye
Where are your legs that used to run, hurroo, hurroo
Where are your legs that used to run, hurroo, hurroo
Where are your legs that used to run,
When you went for to carry a gun
Indeed your dancing days are done
Oh Johnny, I hardly knew ye
I'm happy for to see ye home, hurroo, hurroo
I'm happy for to see ye home, hurroo, hurroo
I'm happy for to see ye home,
All from the island of Sulloon;
So low in flesh, so high in bone
Oh Johnny I hardly knew ye
Ye haven't an arm, ye haven't a leg, hurroo, hurroo
Ye haven't an arm, ye haven't a leg, hurroo, hurroo
Ye haven't an arm, ye haven't a leg,
Ye're an armless, boneless, chickenless egg
Ye'll have to put with a bowl out to beg
Oh Johnny I hardly knew ye
They're rolling out the guns again, hurroo, hurroo
They're rolling out the guns again, hurroo, hurroo
They're rolling out the guns again,
But they never will take our sons again
No they never will take our sons again
Johnny I'm swearing to ye
Recorded by Clancys, Makem, Seeger and just about everytbody who was
around in the early 50s RG
Tune: Johnny Comes Marching Home
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patrickmaurice
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Dec 23 @ 9:43AM
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were showing our age now sir
me too I remeber that one well
who gives a damn
 great song
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Injuneer
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Dec 23 @ 10:05AM
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Bravo! Pip pip! Good Show! 
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jelltex
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Dec 23 @ 11:22AM
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Thanks to everyone who posted on this. I'll have to check the songs mentioned when I get home. No media player on our puters for fear of nasty viruses.
I think the Pogues did a version of And the Band Played Waltzing Matilda, very good if my shaky memory serves.
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