Music That Takes You Back

A selection of music from the past.

Ships songs

From Bill Garnett form Long Branch

THE WEARING OF THE GREEN (Ottawa Style)

I met with Uncle Percy and he shook me by the hand,
I said, “How is our Navy, Sir, and is it still on land.”
It is the most distressful Navy, faith, that ever yet was seen,
‘Cause half of them are Paybobs and the rest are wearing green.

Oh! I went into the Elgin – not a civvy to be found,
But lots and lots of Navy there were sitting all around.
Red or white stripes, blue stripes too, not an Exec. To be seen,
But more than all the others were the wearers of the green.

Each evening in the Bytown Mess when the beer is flowing free,
You can hear more salty chanties sung than ever hear at sea,
They sing of all the ships they’ve had and ports to which they’ve been,
But truth to tell, they lie like hell, ‘cause they’re the wearers of the green.

Some hand out railroad tickets and some put on Navy shows,
There’s even some two-stripers there who wash dirty clothes.
Oh! Send me back to Halifax where our ships can still be seen –
I’ll gladly leave Headquarters to the wearers of the green!

(Author uknown)

Z DIVISION

Z division, Z division, we’re the best bunch in the land,
Hear us singing in the gun room, with a bottle in each hand.
We’re good drinkers, none are stinkers,
And we’re sailors true and blue.
Oh our spirit’s mighty high and this is our battle cry,
Z division will see it through.

Gaiters Turner does the barking, in a voice both loud and strong,
Garry Schlem he does the talking, and he’s very seldom wrong.
Butler’s marching is like a hep cat’s
With a bee inside his jeans.
And there’s Chris to get the dill and Old Rankin with his still,
In Z division, that’s what I mean.

Dick Mahoney is no phoney, he’s got dice that jump and talk,
“Lightning” Thompson is the speed ball with his swift and sprightly walk.
Big Walt Little isn’t little,
And to us he is the tops.
Rolly Hurst he gets there first, though his walk it is the nerts,
In Z division, there’s no flops.

Georgie Welsman plays piano, boogie-woogie is his style,
Davie Love though not a big man, always wears a great big smile.
Donie Best’s voice is like a bull dog’s,
As he keeps the boys in step.
Old “Doc” Kendall with his pipe, smoking it with all his might,
In Z division, they’re really hep.

Boomer Cassils he played baseball, but he seldom got a hit,
Scotty Miller he played short stop and he’s really on the bit,
Big Geo. Southy’s never mouthy,
But he always has a joke.
Farmer Hilliard can’t play billiards but he always knows his “Q”,
In Z division, the greatest crew

Shaw and Ramage and our Crooksie, are the little guys its true,
But in scappin’ they’re not lackin’, and we know they’ll see it through,
Then there’s Crawley, always jolly,
And our piccolo playing Kines.
There’s our Smitty always witty and his bride who is so pretty,
Z division, a thousand times.

Strachen and Tully, Scot and Scully, there’s a quartet we all know.
Billy Benson he got married and today he’s getting slow.
There’s many others, we’re all brothers,
And we’ll fight this damn war through.
We’ll get Hitler where he’s littler and we’ll nail him to a wall
Z division, heeds the call.

“Blondy” Brown and Mac McClymont, are the best that can be had,
To lead a gang of rugged sailors that are very seldom bad OH YEA
They’re square shooters, hooper-doopers,
And we tell you one and all.
Give us Dumbo and our Hamy and we’ll lick the hun quite handy,
Z division, on the ball.

Here’s three cheers for good old “Cappy”, and our “Jimmy” who’s our pal,
And gunner Heybeard, the blond Adonis,
Who gives us all the hell.
We enjoyed them and hate to leave them,
To go out to meet the foe.
But if there’s any Huns around, Z division can be found,
Fit and ready, to put them down.

Oh there’s something about King’s College, that makes us proud
Junior subies getting ready to go out upon the seas. To be,
We’ll remember the days we spent here,
Taking courses just to be.
A man that fights on sea in the good old king’s navy.
Z division, FOR VICTORY

 

BON HOMME’

L – Bon Homme, bon homme, sit e jouai

C – ” “ “ “

L – Si te jouai ce La,

Chorus “ “ “

L – Bon homme

C – Bon homme

L – Tu N’est pasmaitre dans ta maison quand nous y sommes

 

GOOD BYE TO KINGS  by Hoagie MacCauley

Abide with me, fast ends our days at ‘Kings’,
Not long from now, we think of other things,
We’ll miss our friends, their company we enjoyed.
But there’s a war to win, so be not annoyed.

Lift up your glasses, drink a toast once more,
To our fair navy, who could ask for more.
Whom we are fighting, this world of sin to free,
Our fair ‘Kings’ College, we’ll remember thee.

In our division, are men from all the land,
Gathered together, their country to defend.
When danger threatens, we will stand our ground,
We are from ‘Kings’ we’ll never let her down.

Men of the navy, lift your voices high,
To our fair ship, Oh praise her to the skies.
We all remember, the things they taught us here,
To Hun or Dago, we will show no fear.

Fill up your glasses, once more to drink a toast,
To ‘Dumbo’ and ‘Hamy”, the men that we like most.
We’ll never fail them, wherever we may be,
While on the seas we fight for liberty.

Ask any man who is in the navy blue,
Are you from ‘Kings’, if so I say to you.
You are prepared to sail upon the seas,
And lead the Navy on the VICTORY.

… tune “Abide With Me.”

BY PERCUSSION… FIRE A TUBE

By percussion, fire a tube,
By percussion fire a tube,
The lock’s correct,
Don’t break your neck,
By percussion fire a tube.
In Slow time close up,
In slow time close up,
I only moving at the double
Goddamit boys we’re all in trouble.
The layer’s on… the trainer’s on
The sight setter’s really hep,
The T.S. Shouting down below,
Come on boys, let’s really go.
By percussion, fire a tube,
By percussion, fire a tube,
The lock’s correct, don’t break your neck,
By percussion, fire a tube.
Eden, Goslett, Angas, Jones,
They’re the boys who broke our bones,
We double up and down the hill,
Hold on their, — I need a pill.
…I’m constipated… fire a tube,
By percussion fire a tube.
The lock’s correct, don’t break your neck,
By percussion fire a tube.
Still – miscarriage carry on,
Something surely must be wrong,
No. 2. Says ‘Bore is clear’,
… and ole’ Chief Blofield’ buys the beer.
By percussion fire a tube,
By percussion fire a tube,
The locks correct don’t break your neck,
By percussion fire a tube.
Company state, sure pained our ass
Lieut. Hendy on the grass,
“Stand still the Officers”
So much blah,
Gunnery school classes, “Classes Ha.!
Z division passes out,
It was fun while it lasted
But we sure got blasted,
Z Division passes out,
Fire Tube.