De meest indringende anti-oorlogssong ooit, geschreven door de Schotse folkzanger Eric Bogle. Bogle beschrijft hoe hij in Frankrijk bij de grafsteen van de Ierse soldaat Willie McBride staat. McBride stierf op 19-jarige leeftijd in één van de vele gruwelijke veldslagen van de Eerste Wereldoorlog. Bogle vraagt zich af hoe Willie gestorven is; was zijn dood snel, of langzaam en obsceen? Is er een vriendin voor wie hij altijd de 19-jarige jongen zal blijven van wie ze afscheid nam? Dachten Willie en zijn lotgenoten die naast hem begraven liggen dat dit een oorlog was die een einde zou maken aan alle oorlogen? Zo ja, dan is Willie’s generatie bedrogen uitgekomen: Did you really believe them when they told you the ‘The Cause?’/You really believe that this war would end wars?/The suffering, the sorrow, the glory, the shame/The killing, the dying, it was all done in vain/For Willie McBride, it all happened again/And again, and again, and again, and again!
The Green Fields of France is door elke Ierse folk(rock)band van enig belang gecoverd. De mooiste is wat mij betreft die van de Dropkick Murphys, maar van Youtube mag ik die hier niet plakken. Beelden van mensen die gestorven zijn in zinloze slachtpartijen kunnen we natuurlijk maar beter verborgen houden. Je zou eens een negatief mensbeeld kunnen krijgen. Hier de link.
Well how do you do, Private William McBride?
Do you mind if I sit here down by your graveside,
And I’ll rest for a while in the warm summer sun?
I’ve been walkin’ all day long, and I’m nearly done.
I see by your gravestone you were only 19
When you joined the glorious fallen in 1916
Well, I hope you died quick, and I hope you died clean,
Or Willie McBride, was it slow and obscene?
Chorus:
Did they beat the drums slowly,
Did they sound the fife lowly,
Did the rifles fire o’ ye as they lowered you down?
Did the bugle sing The Last Post in chorus?
Did the pipes play the Flowers of the Forest?
And did you leave a wife or a sweetheart behind
In some faithful heart is your memory enshrined?
And though you died back in 1916,
To that loyal heart are you always 19?
Or are you a stranger without even a name,
Forever enshrined behind some glass pane
In an old photograph, torn and tattered and stained,
And fading to yellow in a brown, leather frame
Chorus:
Well the sun’s shining now on these green fields of France;
The warm wind blows gently and the red poppies dance.
The trenches have vanished long under the plough
No gas and no barbed wire, no guns firing now.
But here in this graveyard that’s still No Man’s Land
The countless white crosses in mute witness stand
To man’s blind indifference to his fellow man,
And a whole generation who were butchered and damned.
Chorus:
And I can’t help but wonder, no Willie McBride,
Do all those who lie here, know why they died?
Did you really believe them when they told you the ‘The Cause?’
You really believe that this war would end wars?
The suffering, the sorrow, the glory, the shame,
The killing, the dying, it was all done in vain,
For Willie McBride, it all happened again,
And again, and again, and again, and again!
Did they beat the drums slowly,
Did they sound the fife lowly,
Did the rifles fire o’ ye as they lowered you down?
Did the bugle sing The Last Post in chorus?
Did the pipes play the Flowers of the Forest?
Did the bugle sing The Last Post in chorus?
Did the pipes play the Flowers of the Forest?
Uitgelichte afbeelding: By Ernest Brooks – http://media.iwm.org.uk/iwm/mediaLib//228/media-228650/large.jpgThis is photograph Q 1308 from the collections of the Imperial War Museums., Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=63297108
