The United States Enters the War and Patriotic Music Supports the Effort

At the turn of the 20th century, sheet music was the primary source of music for the American family, which was enamored with the increasingly available piano. Parker, World War I Sheet Music, Vols. I and II, p.13.) By 1910 sales of sheet music had reached some two billion copies per year. (Id.) From the turn of the century well into the 1930s and 1940s, popular music was mostly written by professionals from Tin Pan Alley in New York City, “one of the most popular music publishing centers in the world.” (Id.) Irving Berlin, John Phillip Sousa and George M. Cohan were some of the most famous “alleymen” before and during World War I. (Id., p. 15.) However, by the start of the 1920s, records replaced sheet music as the music purchased for the home. (Id., p. 17.) “Patriotic war songs published as sheet music both mirrored and shaped public attitudes toward the conflict”. (Id., p.3.)

Popular wartime songs included the following:

George M. Cohen’s “Over There” (1917) became the rallying cry for the whole country. It sold more than two million copies of sheet music. It was in the Top Twenty for 11 months, holding the number one spot for five of those months. (Parker, p. 6.) (http://youtu.be/Fz6Lv9djrZE)

Johnnie, get your gun,
Get your gun, get your gun,
Take it on the run,
On the run, on the run.
Hear them calling, you and me,
Every son of liberty.
Hurry right away,
No delay, go today,
Make your daddy glad
To have had such a lad.
Tell your sweetheart not to pine,
To be proud her boy’s in line.

Over there, over there,
Send the word, send the word over there –
That 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 till it’s over
Over there.

Johnnie, get your gun,
Get your gun, get your gun,
Johnnie show the Hun
Who’s a son of a gun.
Hoist the flag and let her fly,
Yankee Doodle do or die.
Pack your little kit,
Show your grit, do your bit.
Yankee to the ranks,
From the towns and the tanks.
Make your mother proud of you,
And the old Red, White and Blue.

Over there, over there,
Send the word, send the word over there –
That 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 till it’s over
Over there.

“Pack Up Your Troubles in Your Old Kit Bag (and Smile, Smile, Smile), written by George Asaf and Felix Powell (1915) was a very popular English song that helped enhance British morale during the war. (http://youtu.be/kXcs1Vv3YlE)

Pack up your troubles in your old kit bag,
And smile, smile, smile.
Don’t let your joy and laughter hear the snag
Smile boys, that’s the style
What’s the use of worrying
It never was worthwhile
So, pack up your troubles in your old kit bag
And smile, smile, smile.

(Musical Interlude)
Pack up your troubles in your old kit bag
And smile, smile, smile.
Just pucker up and whistle (Whistle)
(Whistling)
What’s the use of worrying
It never was worthwhile
So, pack up your troubles in your old kit bag
And smile, smile, smile.

(In other versions, the third line is: “while you’ve a Lucifer to light your fag.”)

Another popular British song was “Keep the Home Fires Burning, written by Ivor Novello, Ford Ivor, and Guilbert Lena (1914). (http://youtu.be/WvuCaLRcgh4)

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.

“It’s a Long Way to Tipperary” is a British song written by Jack Judge in 1912 before the war, but became very popular with the British armed forces during the war. Like “Keep the Home Fires Burning,” this song focused on “back home” rather than on a military theme. A traditional version can be found on YouTube at http://youtu.be/sYt_PNvUvvs. A version modified to be sung by an American is at http://youtu.be/4auHmYv98p0)

Up to mighty London came
An Irish lad one day,
All the streets were paved with gold,
So everyone was gay!
Singing songs of Piccadilly,
Strand, and Leicester Square,
‘Til Paddy got excited and
He shouted to them there:

It’s a long way to Tipperary,
It’s a long way to go.
It’s a long way to Tipperary
To the sweetest girl I know!
Goodbye Piccadilly,
Farewell Leicester Square!
It’s a long long way to Tipperary,
But my heart’s right there.

Paddy wrote a letter
To his Irish Molly O’,
Saying, “Should you not receive it,
Write and let me know!
If I make mistakes in ‘spelling,’
Molly dear,” said he,
“Remember it’s the pen, that’s bad,
Don’t lay the blame on me.”

It’s a long way to Tipperary,
It’s a long way to go.
It’s a long way to Tipperary
To the sweetest girl I know!
Goodbye Piccadilly,
Farewell Leicester Square,
It’s a long long way to Tipperary,
But my heart’s right there.

Molly wrote a neat reply
To Irish Paddy O’,
Saying, “Mike Maloney wants
To marry me, and so
Leave the Strand and Piccadilly,
Or you’ll be to blame,
For love has fairly drove me silly,
Hoping you’re the same!”

It’s a long way to Tipperary,
It’s a long way to go.
It’s a long way to Tipperary
To the sweetest girl I know!
Goodbye Piccadilly,
Farewell Leicester Square,
It’s a long long way to Tipperary,
But my heart’s right there.

Extra wartime verse:

That’s the wrong way to tickle Mary,
That’s the wrong way to kiss!
Don’t you know that over here, lad,
They like it best like this!
Hooray pour le Francais!
Farewell, Angleterre!
We didn’t know the way to tickle Mary,
But we learned how, over there!

“Hinky Dinky Parley-Voo,” (Mademoiselle from Armentières), was one of the most popular wartime songs. It dates back to the French Army in the 1830s. The song was resurrected in succeeding wars and has many versions. It was often modified by the troops with cruder lyrics than those set out below. The song was first recorded in 1915 by Jack Charman and can be found at http://youtu.be/YKzhQ4j9HD4. Three German Officers Crossed the Rhine is a version of the song with much more ribald set of lyrics, sung to the same tune. It was originally sung in the trenches during the First World War. (http://youtu.be/nb4gPW0neoc)

Mademoiselle from Armentieres, Parley-voo?
Mademoiselle from Armentieres, Parley-voo?
Mademoiselle from Armentieres,
She hasn’t been kissed in forty years,
Hinky, dinky, parley-voo.

Mademoiselle from Armentieres, Parley-voo?
Mademoiselle from Armentieres, Parley-voo?
She had the form like the back of a hack,
When she cried the tears ran down her back,
Hinky, dinky, parley-voo.

Mademoiselle from Armentieres, Parley-voo?
Mademoiselle from Armentieres, Parley-voo?
She never could hold the love of man
‘Cause she took her baths in a talcum can,
Hinky, dinky, parley-voo.

Mademoiselle from Armentieres, Parley-voo?
Mademoiselle from Armentieres, Parley-voo?
She had four chins, her knees would knock,
And her face would stop a cuckoo clock,
Hinky, dinky, parley-voo.

Mademoiselle from Armentieres, Parley-voo?
Mademoiselle from Armentieres, Parley-voo?
She could beg a franc, a drink, a meal,
But it wasn’t because of sex appeal,
Hinky, dinky, parley-voo.

Mademoiselle from Armentieres, Parley-voo?
Mademoiselle from Armentieres, Parley-voo?
She could guzzle a barrel of sour wine,
And eat a hog without peeling the rind,
Hinky, dinky, parley-voo.

The MPS think they won the war, Parley-voo.
The MPS think they won the war, Parley-voo.
The MPS think they won the war,
Standing guard at the café door,
Hinky, dinky, parley-voo.

The officers get the pie and cake, Parley-voo.
The officers get the pie and cake, Parley-voo.
The officers get the pie and cake,
And all we get is the bellyache,
Hinky, dinky, parley-voo.

The sergeant ought to take a bath, Parley-voo.
The sergeant ought to take a bath, Parley-voo.
If he changes his underwear
The frogs will give him the Croix-de-Guerre,
Hinky-dinky, parley-voo.

You might forget the gas and shells, Parley-voo.
You might forget the gas and shells, Parley-voo.
You might forget the groans and yells
But you’ll never forget the mademoiselles,
Hinky, dinky, parley-voo.

Mademoiselle from Armentieres, Parley-voo?
Mademoiselle from Armentieres, Parley-voo?
Just blow your nose, and dry your tears,
We’ll all be back in a few short years,
Hinky, dinky, parley-voo