The poppies are brilliant right now.
In Cassino's fields.
The 4000+ Commonwealth soldiers lie peacefully under their marble headstones in the immaculate lawn and gardens. The 20,000+ German soldiers enjoy a still and dignified solitude on their conical hill. The 1,000+ Polish soldiers could do with a gardener in their patch; it's a pity the abbey only looks across at them and does nothing for the fallen man. The estimated 6,000 French with their colonial soldiers were locked in for the night by the time I got to Venafro. I guess the headstones of the colonial troops at the rear of that cemetery were still facing Mecca.
Tomorrow we paint poppies...tomorrow and
tomorrow and
tomorrow.
1 comment:
From http://lyricsplayground.com/alpha/songs/d/ddaydodgers.shtml
(After the D-Day invasion of France on June 6, 1944, the Allied troops in Italy,
in a jest of very dubious taste, became known as the "D-Day Dodgers". The nickname,
supposedly first uttered by British Parliamentarian, Lady Astor, implied that the
troops in Italy were avoiding the "real" war in France. Most considered the name
to be an unwarrented slur and, consequently, an extremely clever and sarcastic
response came about in the words of this song. It was set to the catchy tune of the
famous wartime song, Lili Marlène, which was well-known to the fighting men. There
are many and slightly differing versions, but this version is as complete as is
possible to find.)
There is a song the Eighth Army used to sing,
Marching through the desert, marching with a swing
But now they're on a different game
Although the tune is still the same
The words have all been altered,
The words we're singing still...
We're the D-Day Dodgers, here in Italy
Drinking all the vino, always on a spree
We didn't land with Eisenhower
And so they think we're just a shower
For we're the D-Day Dodgers
Out here in Italy
We're the D-Day dodgers, out here in Italy
Always drinking vino, always on a spree
Eighth Army scroungers and their tanks
We go to war in ties, like swanks
We are the D-Day Dodgers
Way out in Italy
Here's to Lady Astor, our pin up girl out here
She's the dear old lady, who sends us such good beer
And when we get our Astor band
We'll be the proudest in the land
For we're the D-Day Dodgers
Out here in Italy
We landed in Salerno, a holiday with pay
Jerry brought the band out to cheer us on our way
Showed us the sights and gave us tea
We all sang songs, the beer was free
To welcome D-Day Dodgers
To sunny Italy
Salerno and Cassino, were taken in our stride
We didn't go to fight there, we went there for the ride
Anzio and Sanzio were just names
We only went to look for dames
The artful D-Day Dodgers
Out here in Italy
Around Lake Trasimano, we had a lovely time
Bags of wine and women, they didn't cost a dime
Base wallahs, amgot and the Yanks
All stayed in Rome to dodge the tanks
For we're the D-Day Dodgers
Out here in Italy
We stayed a week in Florence, polished off the wine
Then thumbed our way to Rimini, through the Gothic Line
Soon to Bologna we will go
When Jerry's gone across the Po
For we're the D-Day Dodgers
The lads that D-Day dodged
We hear the boys in France are going home on leave
After six months service, it's a shame they're not relieved
But we can carry on out here
For what may be a few more years
For we're the D-Day Dodgers
Out here in Italy
Once we heard a rumour we were going home
Back to dear old Blighty, never more to roam
Then someone said in France you'll fight
We answered: "No, we'll just sit tight!"
For we're the D-Day Dodgers
The lads that D-Day dodged
When the war is over and we've done our bit
Climbing over mountains, through mud and sleet and ----,
Then we will all be sent out east
Till B.L.A. have been released
For we're the D-Day Dodgers,
Out here in Italy.
Forgotten by the many, remembered by the few
We'd our armistice when an armestice was new
One million Germans gave up to us
We finished our war without much fuss
For we're the D-Day Dodgers
Out here in Italy
Dearest Lady Astor, you think you're mighty hot
Standing on the platform, talking tommyrot
Dear England's sweetheart and her pride
We think your mouth's too bleedin' wide
From all the D-Day Dodgers
In sunny Italy
If you look around the mountains in the mud and rain
You'll find scattered crosses, some which bear no name
Heart break and toil and suffering gone
The boys beneath them slumber on
For they're the D-Day Dodgers
Who stayed in Italy
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