Oh! What A Lovely War Page #9

how they sing-a-ling-a-ling

For you but not for me

Oh death

where is thy sting-a-ling-a-ling

Oh grave, thy victory?

The bells of hell go ting-a-ling-a-ling

For you but not for me

Thank you, sir.

Thank you, sir.

Sir, I've been wondering...

Or rather, the staff

and I have been wondering,

perhaps this policy of attrition

might be a mistake.

After all, it's wearing us down

more than it is them.

Couldrt we increase our efforts

on other fronts?

Nonsense. The Western Front

is the only real front.

We must grind them down.

You see,

our population is greater than theirs,

and their losses are greater than ours.

I don't quite follow that, sir.

In the end,

they will have 5,000 men left

and we shall have 10,000,

and we shall have won.

In any case,

I intend to launch

one more full-scale offensive.

And we shall break through and win.

Rum ration.

Old soldiers never die

The young ones wish they would

Those poor bastards still moaning

out in no-mars-land.

Somebody ought

to do something about it.

It's terrible, terrible.

Sounds like a bleeding cattle market.

Right. Wakey-wakey. On your feet.

The order's come through for the attack.

We kick off at 5:00 ack-emma.

Right! Move!

That's a bloody fine time, isn't it?

If the sergeant steals your rum

Never mind

If the sergeant steals your rum

Never mind

Though he's just a bloody sod

Let him take the bleeding lot

If the sergeant steals your rum

Never mind

Never mind

If old Jerry shells the trench

Never mind

If old Jerry shells the trench

Never mind

Though the blasted sandbags fly

You have only once to die

If old Jerry shells the trench

Never mind

Never mind

Right. Come on, lads. Come on.

If you get stuck on the wire

- Never mind

- Never mind

If you get stuck on the wire

- Never mind

- Never mind

Though the light's as broad as day

When you die they stop your pay

If you get stuck on the wire

Never mind

Oh, never mind

Far far from Wipers, I long to be

Where German snipers can't get at me

Damp is my dugout, cold are my feet

Waiting for whizzbangs

to send me to sleep

Sir! 5:
00 ack-emma, sir.

- Press the attack immediately.

- Sir.

If you want the old battalion

We know where they are

We know where they are

We know where they are

If you want the old battalion

We know where they are

They're hanging on the old barbed wire

We've seen them, we've seen them

Hanging on the old barbed wire

We've seen them, we've seen them

Hanging on the old barbed wire

We've seen them, we've seen them

Hanging on the old barbed wire

We've seen them, we've seen them

Hanging on the old barbed wire

We've seen them

Hanging on the old barbed wire

Right! Over the top, boys!

Come on, now, fast as you can!

Come on, lads.

'Our counteroffensive

commenced this morning.

'Satisfactory progress.

'Yesterday, the King

inspected the troops.

'Trouble was

'that the men waved

their hats instead of flags

'as His Majesty rode by.

'The King did clutch

the reins too firmly... '

Correction.

The King did clutch

the reins rather firmly,

no reflection on

His Majesty's horsemanship.

The grass was very slippery,

and the mare moved backwards.

I'd exercised her every day for a year.

So unfortunate it had to be my horse

that threw the King.

They've all gone.

They've all been killed.

No, they haven't.

They're just under cover.

- Where are you going?

- Forward.

It's no use staying here.

You've got to keep moving forward.

Look, as soon as the next

shell bursts in front of us,

- you follow me into the hole. Right?

- Right.

Why don't our gunners do something

about that bleeding machine gun?

They are doing something.

They just haven't hit him yet.

Let's have a try with one of these.

I'd like to catch that bleeder

who threw that bleeding smoke bomb.

I can't see a bleeding thing.

Far far from Wipers, I long to be

Where German snipers can't get at me

This is the life, eh, Sarge?

Damp is my dugout, cold are my feet

Waiting for whizzbangs

to send me to sleep

I must have drawn you in a sweep.

- I've had enough of this.

- Yeah, me and all.

Let's get that bleeding machine gun.

- They're just as scared as we are.

- All right.

Where do you reckon you're going?

Just to have a crack at that gun, Sarge.

All right. Careful, now.

- I'll give you covering fire.

- Right.

- See you after the war, Sarge.

- Yeah, at your sister-in-law Flo's place.

- About 8:
00.

- Make it half-past.

- What?

- I might be a bit late!

Right.

Right.

You can close the battle

of the Somme now.

The final British losses

are 607,784 officers and men.

- And the French losses, sir?

- They are still to come.

And ground gained, nil.

'Thank you for the copy of The Times.

'I'm glad that in spite of all,

it is still a victory.

'lt does not seem so here.

'lt is beyond belief, the butchery.

'The men look so appalling

when they are brought in,

'and so many die.'

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 hardship

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 the lads are far away

They dream of home

There's a silver lining

Through the dark clouds shining

Turn the dark cloud inside out

Till the boys come home

Come along, Harry, lad.

Have to move you onto the ground now.

Need the stretcher, see?

There's a casualty list up.

I wonder who's on it.

Excuse me, love.

Hey, there's another Arkwright again.

Oh, I never did.

Hey, Milly, another Arkwright gone.

Yeah. I know her.

- That's three she's lost.

- No, four.

No, three.

They're bringing them back

at night now.

What is it?

It's just another list, Flo.

- Ethel's boy's just been let out of prison.

- Why?

- There's another big push coming.

- Oh, never.

Ask Flo. She's in munitions.

They're always first to know.

Is that true, then?

It's true. It's starting again.

Don't worry, love,

your Jack will be all right.

- Can't go on much longer now, can it?

- Of course not.

Must be rotten for you

working down there.

- It's not bad.

- I wouldn't like it, all those men.

Our old foremars bad enough.

One girl earned

3 last week with overtime.

- Go on.

- It's true.

They're paying a fortune.

They need to,

after that explosion last week.

Never found nothing of them, did they?

We're going on overtime next week.

What you making?

Big new order's coming.

It's funny stuff, they say it's for shrouds.

- Oh, it makes you shiver.

- Milly.

What's that?

It's the Yankees!

Come on.

Over there

Over there.

- Our infantry...

- Have the reserves been...

The Yanks are coming

The Yanks are coming

The drums rum-tumming everywhere

So prepare, say a prayer

Send the word, send the word

to beware

We'll be over, we're coming over

And we won't come back

We'll be buried over there

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