"TOMMY'S" FAVOURITES

Dominion, Volume 11, Issue 194, 6 May 1918, Page 6

"TOMMY'S" FAVOURITES

POPULAR WAR DITTIES, (By Vernon Bartlett, author of "Mud and Khaki.") The general public has by now learnt, that "Tipperary" was a song entirely unknown to tho original "Contcmptiblcs, and that the men marched forward from the Marne o such tunes as "Hullo! \\ ho a Your Lady friend?" and "Hold. Your Hand Out, Naughty Boy.K But it does not yet know—it wilt never know—all thftj extraordinary chants that cheer "Tommy' up as lie tramps along the cobbled roafs of Flanders or the undulating, chalky highways of the Somme. ■Perhaps the most popular of all marching tunes nowadays is "Macnamara'* Band," which tells you that "The Princeof Wales to Ireland came, and shook ma (Mr. Macnamara) by the hand, And said he'd never heard tho like of Macnamara s band." Personally, I rather envy the Prince of Wales, for it would certainly be an. honour to shake hands with the man. whose melodies have been the marching song of millions in the sucking mud of the Western front and the choluug dust of Mesopotamia, whose song haa rung out in the trenches of Galipoli, and, perhaps, even in the sacred villages of the Holy Laud. . . But the songs most beloved by the soldiers are entirely meaningless to the les* ser mortals. Most of us know that: Old soldiers never die, never die, never die. Old soldiers nover die, they simply fade away; and that the proper thing to do when passing a girl on the march is to givo vent to the chorus: There she goes, 1 Euppose, Ooh, ah, ooh, ah, ah. But not many people, I fancy, knotr the song of "Tho Three Jolly Boys, with a rolling tune and the nonsensical words: Now, you'll pay the rent, Sir, Aye, Sir, And A yoVll do the same. Sir, No, Sir. No, Now will he or wil heiiiotr. Aye Sir Aye, you cannot deny it,. Sir, ho, bir, io. followed by the chorus:Now one.suys "Aye" and the other says Wo arc°tUree jolly boys all in a, row, In a row, in a row, in a row, in a, row, We are threo jolly hoys all in a roo-w. Tlioy are as vague of origin as are the old Norse sagas, tome of these strange ditties of tlie soldiers. Some, sucli ad the terrible and inevitable 'Hs only a

butiful pictcher in a butiful gao ueu {rime." are frankly Cockney, and there are ouo or two in which scraps of lui<lish recall to you the broad U hitecliapcl Hifib Street and Mile End Road. Others, again, as the famous "Widdecombe fair," bring to you the rolling bills, tins little quiot villages, the old church, and the warm glow across the street from the windows cl the "Blue boar But you cannot lvcu guess at the oiinn of the majority of the soluiers Aongs. They are picked up ■ Heaven :knows .where, they, were composed by Heaven knows w.hom, and Heaven alone lmow3 how old they mny be.- Ihero is no need to teach the soldier how to elns "The Bora of the Old Brigade' or ••The British Grenadiers," for, these are not satisfying to his inventive mind; instead of some march'that he learnt at school you will find him picking out on his mouth-organ that funny little song, made up from the scraps of French that he lias mastered,' which runs:— Lorsquo la guerre finis, Soldat anglais parti. N'a plus de bully beef comme souvenir, Madame, your soup's no bonne. But if you ask him when or whore ho learnt it he will cither call you a fool m will try to borrow a cigarette from yoo, for lie hasn't tho ghost of an idea.