any brits here?

[historian]

Im doing a research paper and want to find some songs showing how the british will always unite when threatened bla bla bla...I've looked at all the vera lynn songs (what a lovely voice she had) but she didnt sing any satirical songs extolling the brits and making everyone else to be fools. If you know of any I will be perpetually in your debt (the check's in the mail) Ta and cheers

[Liberal In Texas]

1. You might try the UK forum:

http://www.democraticunderground.com/discuss/duboard.php?az=show_topics&forum=191

There are Brits who post in GD on occasion as well.

[historian]

2. thanks

[muriel_volestrangler]

3. I'm unclear which bit you want satirised

Do you want a song which satirises a jingoistic attitude? or one that shows a genuine jingoistic attitude? It's this "making everyone else to be fools" which confuses me slightly.

[historian]

5. sorry

I think there was a song called ooo do you think youre fooling mr hitler. Something akin to Rule Britannia which is self glorifying but which also heaps satire on the germans or anyone else trying to destroy the brits. Hope that explains it. tks

[ikri]

6. That's the theme tune to the TV show "Dad's Army"

The song isn't a wartime song though, the lyrics for the song were written by one of the writers of the TV show in 1968.

Details on the TV show & the music

[truebrit71]

8. That was the theme song to 'Dad's Army' a British tv series about the Home Guard...

...I watched it as a nipper growing up...bloody funny as I recall...

Lyrics by Jimmy Perry, music by Derek Taverner, performed by Bud Flanagan.

"Who do you think you are kidding Mr. Hitler?
If you think we’re on the run...
We are the boys who will stop your little game,
We are the boys who will make you think again.
'Cause, who do you think you are kidding Mr. Hitler?
If you think old England’s done.
Mr Brown goes off to town on the 8:21,
But he comes home each evening and he’s ready with his gun.
So, who do you think you are kidding Mr. Hitler?
If you think old England’s done."

I also remember singing a rude song as a kid:

"Hitler has only got one ball,
the other is in the Albert Hall,
his mother,
the dirty bugger,
nicked off 'im when he was only small"...

Sung to the tune whistled in "Bridge over the river Kwai".

[no_hypocrisy]

4. Did Gracie Fields sing any patriotic songs or just the movie fare?

[truebrit71]

7. Nope. None here...

..."Always look on the bright side of life" Monty Python would be a good place to start..

Also....

Land of Hope and Glory
Rule Britannia
God Save The Queen

[Ghost Dog]

15. God Save The Queen, The Sex Pistols' version,

of course. ;)

[LeftishBrit]

9. Here are a few of possible relevance...

though in fact, Brits under threat are as likely to sing songs making fun of the sergeant-major/ general/ boss/ ourselves as of the enemy!

But here is one from WW2 about the sinking of the Graf Spee (to the tune of 'The Golden Vanity':

SINKING OF THE GRAF SPEE

Oh there was a jolly ship built in Nazi Germany,
And the name of that ship was the Admiral Graf Spee;
And she looted merchantmen of ev'ery nationality
As she sailed upon the rolling, bowling,
As she sailed upon the rolling sea.

She met three cruisers of the British army,
And to stop them she knew would put Berlin on the spree.
Their commander laughed aloud: 'Now merry game there'll be,
For I'll sink them 'neath the rolling, bowling,
For I'll sink them 'neath the rolling sea.'

She fired her mighty guns, did the Admiral Graf Spee;
Her captain laughed aloud, and hugged himself with glee,
But he swore a hasty oath as the little cruisers three
Came dashing over the rolling, bowling,
Came dashing over the rolling sea.

'To the helm, quick,' he cries, 'and turn face right merrily,
Or our Fuhrer's small moustache we never more may live to see.'
With his tail between his legs, in his ear a lively flea,
He went scurrying through the rolling, bowling,
He went scurrying through the rolling sea.

Yes, the 'bear' he went to cover where his wounds
the world could see,
For the British bulldog bite had hurted painfully,
And the foeman speeding forward knew the fight that he had seen
Would end beneath the rolling, bowling,
Would end beneath the rolling sea.

Yes, and this was the end of the Admiral Graf Spee,
And perhaps it was for this that a pocket ship was she,
For in Davy Jones's pocket, scuttled most ingloriously,
She rusts beneath the rolling, bowling,
She rusts beneath the rolling sea.


And also from WW2:

Oh, I haven't seen old Hitler for a hell of a time
I haven't seen old Hitler for a hell of a time
We went to France, to see what he was doing
When we got there the bloody place was ruined

Oh, I haven't seen old Hitler for a hell of a time
He must have been buggered by a mine.
But if he's the leader of the Deutschland breeder
Fuck him, he's no cousin of mine

He's no cousin of mine, no cousin of mine
I've got cousins of every kind
England, Scotland, Ireland, Wales
Russia, Prussia and Jerusalem

Africa, America and Germany
All along the line
But if he's the leader of the Deutschland breeder
Fuck him, he's no cousin of mine.


And of course, what is still a traditional rhyme in England:

Hitler has only got one ball.
Goering has two but very small.
Himmler has something sim'lar
But Dr. Goebbels has no balls at all!


Here is one from the Napoleonic Wars:

Warlike Lads of Russia

Traditional. Arrangement The Black Family

When Napoleon Bonaparte to Moscow he went
With all his troops and all his men their minds were fully bent
To take that Russian country they were full employed
But the Russians fought against them and
they soon did them destroy

Well in a little while the Russians did attack
Against Bonaparte and all his men,
they fought them and they drove them back
The action being so hot right and left and front and rear
Oh, damn you all says Bonaparte I'll stay no longer here

Chorus

Those warlike lads of Russia they fought all in one mind
Made Bonaparte to run and leave his troops behind
(twice)

Away then went poor Bonaparte as fast as he could run
The poor Frenchmen looked after him,
left horses, men and guns
His boxes and his matches, ammunition, wagons too
He left them all behind him,
well what could poor Boney do?

Chorus

Away then went poor Bonaparte as fast as he could ride
The poor Frenchmen looked after him, saying oh it's very hard
To think he'd lead us all up here and leave us to our fate
You'd think he'd stop along with us and help us in our state

Chorus

Here's 80,000 men from me they've killed and they have taken
Likewise 10,000 horses and 200 bits of cannon
Never more to Lyons, Paris or French Flanders there advance
For if I do I may be sure they'll teach me how to dance

Chorus

Now it's to conclude and thus to finish off me song
Old Boney's men in Russia wish they had a hold of him
The cruelest death they'd put him to, that e're a man befall
Oh damn you all says Bonaparte; I'm weary of you all


(Though it's interesting that some Napoleonic War songs, like "The Isle of St Helena" and (about Napoleon's son) "The Bonny Bunch of Roses" show an ambivalent, part-sympathetic attitude to Napoleon - as does Rudyard Kipling's poem, "How Far is St Helena?")


I must end this post with Flanders and Swann's "The English are Best" which makes fun of English chauvinism about other countries:


The rottenest bits of these islands of ours
We've left in the hands of three unfriendly powers
Examine the Irishman, Welshman or Scot
You'll find he's a stinker as likely as not

The English the English the English are best
I wouldn't give tuppence for all of the rest

The Scotsman is mean as we're all well aware
He's boney and blotchy and covered with hair
He eats salty porridge, he works all the day
And hasn't got bishops to show him the way

The English the English the English are best
I wouldn't give tuppence for all of the rest

The Irishman now our contempt is beneath
He sleeps in his boots and he lies through his teeth
He blows up policemen or so I have heard
And blames it on Cromwell and William the Third

The English are moral the English are good
And clever and modest and misunderstood

The Welshman's dishonest, he cheats when he can
He's little and dark more like monkey than man
He works underground with a lamp on his hat
And sings far too loud, far too often and flat

The English the English the English are best
I wouldn't give tuppence for all of the rest

And crossing the channel one cannot say much
For the French or the Spanish, the Danish or Dutch
The Germans are *German*, the Russians are Red
And the Greeks and Italians eat garlic in bed

The English are noble, the English are nice
And worth any other at double the price

And all the world over each nation's the same
They've simply no notion of playing the game
They argue with umpires, they cheer when they've won
And they practice beforehand which ruins the fun!

The English the English the English are best
I wouldn't give tuppence for all of the rest

It's not that they're wicked or naturally bad
It's just that they're foreign that makes them so mad
The English are all that a nation should be
And the pride of the English are Chipper and me

The English the English the English are best
I wouldn't give tuppence for all of the rest

[truebrit71]

10. I couldn't recall that it was Flanders and Swann, but 'The English are best' immediately sprang...

..to mind!!!

:rofl:

Good stuff!

[T_i_B]

19. My Dad used to like singing "The English Are Best"

However, if it was meant as satire on the English, then that was totally lost on my very right wing and jingoistic Dad.

As to the song lyrics, here's one from Disney's wartime propoganda which my Dad was also known to sing at people he disliked during the war

When Der Fuehrer says, "We ist der master race"
We HEIL! HEIL! Right in Der Fuehrer's face
Not to love Der Fuehrer is a great disgrace
So we HEIL! HEIL! Right in Der Fuehrer's face
When Herr Gobbels says, "We own der world und space"
We HEIL! HEIL! Right in Herr Goring's face
When Herr Goring says they'll never bomb this place
We HEIL! HEIL! Right in Herr Goring's face

Are we not the supermen
Aryan pure supermen
Ja we ist der supermen
Super-duper supermen
Ist this Nutzi land not good?
Would you leave it if you could?
Ja this Nutzi land is good!
Vee would leave it if we could

We bring the world to order
Heil Hitler's world New Order
Everyone of foreign race will love Der Fuehrer's face
When we bring to der world disorder

When Der Fuehrer says, "We ist der master race"
We HEIL! HEIL! Right in Der Fuehrer's face
When Der Fuehrer says, "We ist der master race"
We HEIL! HEIL! Right in Der Fuhrer's face

This is the Youtube clip

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mZiRiIpZVF4

[historian]

12. THANK YOU SO MUCH

Those are wonderful exactly the type of thing i was looking for! May i abuse your kindness and ask you when each one was written and by whom? Ill be forever grateful. Thanks so much again.

[LeftishBrit]

18. So far as I know, they are anonymous except for the Flanders and Swann one

I know that the one about the Graf Spee is in Roy Palmer's "Oxford Book of Sea Songs".

[muriel_volestrangler]

11. We could add 'Mad Dogs and Englishmen' by Noel Coward

In tropical climes there are certain times of day
When all the citizens retire,
to tear their clothes off and perspire.
It's one of those rules that the biggest fools obey,
Because the sun is much too sultry and one must avoid
its ultry-violet ray --
Papalaka-papalaka-papalaka-boo. (Repeat)
Digariga-digariga-digariga-doo. (Repeat)
The natives grieve when the white men leave their huts,
Because they're obviously, absolutely nuts --

Mad dogs and Englishmen go out in the midday sun.
The Japanese don't care to, the Chinese wouldn't dare to,
Hindus and Argentines sleep firmly from twelve to one,
But Englishmen detest a siesta,
In the Philippines there are lovely screens,
to protect you from the glare,
In the Malay states there are hats like plates,
which the Britishers won't wear,
At twelve noon the natives swoon, and
no further work is done -
But Mad Dogs and Englishmen go out in the midday sun.

It's such a surprise for the Eastern eyes to see,
That though the British are effete,
they're quite impervious to heat,
When the white man rides, every native hides in glee,
Because the simple creatures hope he will
impale his solar topee on a tree.
Bolyboly-bolyboly-bolyboly-baa. (Repeat)
Habaninny-habaninny-habaninny-haa. (Repeat)
It seems such a shame that when the English claim the earth
That they give rise to such hilarity and mirth -

Mad Dogs and Englishmen go out in the midday sun.
The toughest Burmese bandit can never understand it.
In Rangoon the heat of noon is just what the natives shun.
They put their scotch or rye down, and lie down.
In the jungle town where the sun beats down,
to the rage of man or beast,
The English garb of the English sahib merely gets a bit more creased.
In Bangkok, at twelve o'clock, they foam at the mouth and run,
But mad dogs and Englishmen go out in the midday sun.

Mad Dogs and Englishmen, go out in the midday sun.
The smallest Malay rabbit deplores this stupid habit.
In Hong Kong, they strike a gong, and fire off a noonday gun.
To reprimand each inmate, who's in late.
In the mangrove swamps where the python romps
there is peace from twelve till two.
Even caribous lie down and snooze, for there's nothing else to do.
In Bengal, to move at all, is seldom if ever done,
But mad dogs and Englishmen go out in the midday sun.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vdEnxNog56E

[muriel_volestrangler]

13. And one more from Coward - written in 1943, and banned from the BBC

http://www.spartacus.schoolnet.co.uk/2WWcowardN.htm

Verse

We must be kind
And with an open mind
We must endeavour to find
A way -
To let the Germans know that when the war is over
They are not the ones who'll have to pay.
We must be sweet
And tactful and discreet
And when they've suffered defeat
We mustn't let
Them feel upset
Or ever get
The feeling that we're cross with them or hate them,
Our future policy must be to reinstate them.

Refrain 1

Don't let's be beastly to the Germans
When our victory is ultimately won,
It was just those nasty Nazis who persuaded them to fight
And their Beethoven and Bach are really far worse than their bite
Let's be meek to them-
And turn the other cheek to them
And try to bring out their latent sense of fun.
Let's give them full air parity
And treat the rats with charity,
But don't let's be beastly to the Hun.

Verse 2

We must be just
And win their love and trust
And in addition we must
Be wise
And ask the conquered lands to join our hands to aid them.
That would be a wonderful surprise.
For many years-
They've been in floods of tears
Because the poor little dears
Have been so wronged and only longed
To cheat the world,
Deplete the world
And beat
The world to blazes.
This is the moment when we ought to sing their praises.

Refrain 2

Don't let's be beastly to the Germans
When we've definately got them on the run
Let us treat them very kindly as we would a valued friend
We might send them out some Bishops as a form of lease and lend,
Let's be sweet to them
And day by day repeat to them
That 'sterilization' simply isn't done.
Let's help the dirty swine again
To occupy the Rhine again,
But don't let's be beastly to the Hun.

Refrain 3

Don't let's be beastly to the Germans
When the age of peace and plenty has begun.
We must send them steel and oil and coal and everything they need
For their peaceable intentions can be always guaranteed.
Let's employ with them a sort of 'strength through joy' with them,
They're better than us at honest manly fun.
Let's let them feel they're swell again and bomb us all to hell again,
But don't let's be beastly to the Hun.

Refrain 4

Don't let's be beastly to the Germans
For you can't deprive a gangster of his gun
Though they've been a little naughty to the Czechs and Poles and Dutch
But I don't suppose those countries really minded very much
Let's be free with them and share the B.B.C. with them.
We mustn't prevent them basking in the sun.
Let's soften their defeat again - and build their bloody fleet again,
But don't let's be beastly to the Hun.


The reasons for the ban, according to The Guardian:

Don't Let's Be Beastly to the Germans (1943) by Noël Coward

Banned by public demand. Coward's satire on the pacifist movement was initially played by the BBC, but airplay was stopped after a stream of complaints: listeners who had survived the Luftwaffe were presumably in no mood to endure the louche ironies of a velvet-jacketed fop.

http://www.guardian.co.uk/culture/2002/apr/12/artsfeatures.popandrock

[Waiting For Everyman]

14. The Kinks - "Mr. Churchill Says"

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Fk24stOBie4


Another one... "Some Mother's Son"

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=seMc_UaE3FQ

[Ghost Dog]

16. Sandy Denny sings "The Banks of the Nile"

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tKWBEXyLWHE

Definitely not satire. Always sends a shiver up my spine.

[canetoad]

17. I grew up in Britain

and my parents and grandparents all lived through WW2.

The Scots are fairly irreverent and earthy. My aunts and uncles used to sing (To the tune of 'Colonel Bogey')

"Hitler has only got one ball,
Goering has two, but very small,
Himmler has something similar,
But poor old Goebbels
Has no balls
At all.

[dipsydoodle]

20. Keep the home fires burning

"Keep the Home-Fires Burning ('Till the Boys Come Home)" is a British patriotic First world war song composed by Ivor Novello in 1915 with words by Lena Guilbert Ford.

Lyrics:
They were summoned from the hillside
They were called in from the glen,
And the country found them ready
At the stirring call for men.
Let no tears add to their hardships
As the soldiers pass along,
And although your heart is breaking
Make it sing this cheery song:

Keep the Home Fires Burning,
While your hearts are yearning,
Though your lads are far away
They dream of home.
There's a silver lining
Through the dark clouds shining,
Turn the dark cloud inside out
'Til the boys come home.

Overseas there came a pleading,
"Help a nation in distress."
And we gave our glorious laddies
Honour bade us do no less,
For no gallant son of freedom
To a tyrant's yoke should bend,
And a noble heart must answer
To the sacred call of "Friend."

Keep the Home Fires Burning,
While your hearts are yearning,
Though your lads are far away
They dream of home.
There's a silver lining
Through the dark clouds shining,
Turn the dark cloud inside out
'Til the boys come home.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5P8UokgVqWs

[non sociopath skin]

21. Here's an earlier patriotic song, unusual because it's not from the South East of England ...

... which has always been at the heart of "jingoism" - after all, the term was born in the London music halls.

http://www.folkinfo.org/songs/displaysong.php?songid=482

The Skin

[LeftishBrit]

22. The term 'jingo' I believe was born in this song...

We don't want to fight,
But by Jingo if we do,
We've got the ships,
We've got the men,
And got the money too.
We've fought the Bear before,
And while we're Britons true,
The Russians shall not have Constantinople!

(Music hall song by G W Hunt, from the Russian-Turkish war in the 1870s.)

Another 'fight the Russians' song is this traditional song from the Crimean War:


BATTLE OF ALMA

On September last the eighteenth day
We landed safe at big Crimea,
In spite of all the splashing spray
To cheer our hearts for Alma.

Chorus: Then Britain's sons may long remember
The glorious twentieth of September,
We caused the Russians to surrender
Up on the heights of Alma.

That night we lay on the cold ground,
No tent nor sbelter to be found,
And with the rain was almost drowned
Upon the heights of Alma.

Next morning a scorching sun did rise
Beneath the eastern cloudy skies,
Our noble chief Lord Raglan cries,
"Prepare to march for Alma."

Oh, when the heights we hove in view
The stoutest heart it could subdue
To see tue Russian warlike crew
Upon the heights of Alma.

Their city was well fortified
With batteries on every side,
Our noble chief Lord Raglan cried,
" We'll get hot work at Alma."

Their shot it flew like winter rain
When we their batteries strove to gain,
Fifteen hundred Frenchmen lie slain
In the bloody gore at Alma.

Our Scottish lads with sword in hose
Were not the last you may suppose,
But daring faced their daring foes
And gained the heights of Alma.

To Sebastopol the Russians fled,
They left their wounded and the dead,
The rivers there that they run red
From the blood was spilled at Alma.

There was fifteen hundred Frenchman I heard say
Had fell upon that fatal day,
And eighteen hundred Russians lay
In the bloody gore at Alma.

Now France and England hand in hand,
What ne'er a foe could them withstand!
So let it run throughout the land,
The victory won at Alma.


More often, France was England's enemy, as in this song, also traditional:


We sailed from Virginia and thence to Fayall
Where we watered our ships and then we weighed all
Full in view on the seas, boys, seven sails we did espy
So we mannéd our capstans and weighed speedily.

Now the first we come up on was a brigantine sloop
And we asked if the others was as big as they looked
Ah, but turning to windward, as near as we could lie
We saw there were ten men of war cruising by.

We drew up our squadron in a very nice line
And so boldly we fought them for full four hours time
But the day being spent, boys, and night a-coming on
We left them alone until early next morn.

Now the very next morning the engagement proved hot
And brave Admiral Benbow received a chain shot
And as he lay wounded to his merry men he did say,
"Take me up in your arms, boys, and carry me away!"

Oh, the guns they did rattle and the bullets did fly,
But brave Admiral Benbow for help would not cry;
"Take me down to the coffins; there's ease for my smarts,
If my merry men see me, it would sure break their hearts."

Now, the very next morning at the break of the day
They hoisted their topsails and so bore away;
We bore to Port Royal, where the people flocked past
To see Admiral Benbow carried to Kingston Church.

So come all you brave fellows, wherever you've been,
Let us drink a good health to the King and the Queen,
And another good health to the girls that we know,
And a third in remembrance of great Admiral Benbow.

(Folk enthusiasts may recognize this as one of the songs sung by June Tabor.)

I assume that you know Tennyson's "Charge of the Light Brigade"? Oh, and here is a less-well-known jingoistic song from a similar time by Frederick Marryat:

THE CAPTAIN STOOD ON THE CARRONADE


The Captain stood on the carronade—"First lieutenant," says he,
"Send all my merry men aft here, for they must list to me.
I haven't the gift of the gab, my sons—because I'm bred to the sea.
That ship there is a Frenchman, who means to fight with me.
Odds blood, hammer and tongs, long as I've been to sea,
I've fought 'gainst every odds—but I've gained the victory.



That ship there is a Frenchman, and if we don't take she,
'T is a thousand bullets to one, that she will capture we;
I haven't the gift of the gab, my boys, so each man to his gun;
If she's not mine in half an hour, I'll flog each mother's son.
Odds bobs, hammer and tongs, long as I 've been to sea,
I've fought 'gainst every odds, and I've gained the victory.



We fought for twenty minutes when the Frenchmen had enough.
"I little thought," said he, "that your men were of such stuff."
The Captain took the Frenchman's sword, a low bow made to he.
"I haven't the gift of the gab, Monsieur, but polite I wish to be.
Odds bobs, hammer and tongs, long as I've been to sea,
I've fought 'gainst every odds, and I've gained the victory."



Our Captain sent for all of us, "My merry men," said he,
"I haven't the gift of the gab, my lads, but yet I thankful be;
You've done your duty handsomely, each man stood to his gun;
If you hadn't, you villains, as sure as day, I'd have flogged each mother's son.
Odds bobs, hammer and tongs, as long as I'm at sea
I'll fight 'gainst every odds—and I'll gain the victory."

[non sociopath skin]

23. Though "By Jingo" was sung by "The Great MacDermott" ...

... thought to be in the pay of the Government.

Spin, anyone?

The Skin

[B Whale]

24. i would look at

similar stuff to Vera Lynn, ie Music Hall type music (knees up Mother Brown and all that) to get an idea of Brits in adversity. Not satirical, just silly, which sums a lot of it up and is a stark difference from past jingoism

[Matilda]

25. Another one for you:

To the tune of "Run, Rabbit, Run":

Run Adolf, Run Adolf, Run, Run, Run,
Now that the fun has begun, gun, gun;
P'raps you'll just allow us to explain,
What we did once, - we can do again.
We're making shells by the ton, ton, ton.
We've got the men and the mon, mon, mon.
Poor old soul, - you'll need a rabbit-hole, -
So, run Adolf, run Adolf, run, run, run.