The Recruit's Song

THE RECRUIT'S SONG

While some were going down to town
And some brought in the hay,
We met a man with a ripping plan
And this he had to say:

‘It’s the juh-juh-juh-juh-jerries
Oh we have to go to war
So the juh-juh-juh-juh-jerries
won’t be trouble any more’

Some talk of Sarajevo
And old Franz Ferdinand
We didn’t care,we weren’t there
We were in the county band.

‘Oh the juh-juh-juh-juh-jerries!’
That’s the song we all were singing
And you signed for beer with a great big cheer
while the church bells kept on ringing.

But the fields grew cold and rotten
And the ground stank night and day
And each dreamed alone of his long lost home
Til he sank beneath the clay.

Like the juh-juh-juh-juh-jerries
Under stones and grass we cry
Though our bones are cold here’s a warning told:
Don’t get sold a way to die.

The Lamps are going out all over Europe...

Well then, relight them Edward. Don't let them go out.
This is the point at which Whitehall turned into a dunce's gallery, where they couldn't stop a war no-one wanted, and sacrificed millions for no real reason. Churchill described the moment, relishing the drama;

“It was eleven o’clock at night – twelve by German time – when the ultimatum expired. The windows of the Admiralty were thrown wide open in the warm night air. Under the roof from which Nelson had received his orders were gathered a small group of admirals and captains and a cluster of clerks, pencils in hand, waiting. Along the Mall from the direction of the Palace the sound of an immense concourse singing ‘God save the King’ flouted in. On this deep wave there broke the chimes of Big Ben; and, as the first stroke of the hour boomed out, a rustle of movement swept across the room. The war telegram, which meant, “Commence hostilities against Germany”, was flashed to the ships and establishments under the White Ensign all over the world. I walked across the Horse Guards Parade to the Cabinet room and reported to the Prime Minister and the Ministers who were assembled there that the deed was done."

This does not have the haunting power of 11/11 for me; This is not the Day of the Dead. It's the Day of the Dead Stupid.

Candles in windows, I actually cannot abide the mass at Westminster, it's too loud. We have our little candle. Soon we will snuff it out, in honour of all those lost in the Wars.

Respect and love to all of them.