Familiar songs with my own commentary interjected.

We’re winding up one war and probably starting another, but we still haven’t got a decent song to go with the war. In the old days, they wrote cool war songs. I will share some of those old songs with you. I have added some commentary in [brackets], in order to heighten the reader’s appreciation.

I have some songs from the American Civil War, plus a song from the workers’ revolutionary struggle.

Let us start with a classic which, for some reason, is not played as often as it ought to be. I refer to “Marching Through Georgia,” by Henry Clay Work. This song was composed to commemorate Sherman’s famous March to the Sea. Someone once had the bright idea of playing this song for Jimmy Carter, perhaps under the assumption that Carter, as a Georgia man, would appreciate it. Carter was not amused. But don’t let Carter’s negativity blunt our enjoyment!

Bring the good old bugle, boys! we'll sing another song—
Sing it with a spirit that will start the world along—
Sing it as we used to sing it, fifty thousand strong,
While we were marching through Georgia.

CHORUS:
"Hurrah! Hurrah! we bring the Jubilee!
"Hurrah! Hurrah! the flag that makes you free!"
So we sang the chorus from Atlanta to the sea,
While we were marching through Georgia.

How the darkeys shouted when they heard the joyful sound!
[Sounds like Sherman’s men must have skipped their mandatory sensitivity training workshop.]
How the turkeys gobbled which our commissary found!
How the sweet potatoes even started from the ground,
[If anyone expresses doubt that Sherman was looting the countryside, cite these two lines.]
While we were marching through Georgia
(CHORUS)

Yes, and there were Union men who wept with joyful tears,
When they saw the honor'd flag they had not seen for years;
Hardly could they be restrained from breaking forth in cheers,
[But I bet many of them managed to restrain themselves.]
While we were marching through Georgia.
(CHORUS)

"Sherman's dashing Yankee boys will never reach the coast!"
So the saucy rebels said, and 'twas a handsome boast,
Had they not forgot, alas! to reckon with the host,
[The host with the most]
While we were marching through Georgia.
(CHORUS)

So we made a thoroughfare for Freedom and her train,
Sixty miles in latitude--three hundred to the main [“main”=“sea”];
Treason fled before us, for resistance was in vain,
[Resistance is futile-you will be assimilated.]
While we were marching through Georgia.
(CHORUS)

Next is the song that won the Grammy for Most Blasphemous Lyrics. This is the 1861 chart-buster, “The Battle Hymn of the Republic,” by Julia Ward Howe. Howe’s husband was a U. S. official during the Civil War. She wrote the “Battle Hymn” after First Bull Run, I believe, in an effort to give the troops something to sing instead of “John Brown’s Body,” which Ward regarded as tacky. Better tacky than blasphemous, in my humble opinion, but that’s just me.

Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord
He is trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored,
[Mmm...the grapes of wrath should produce a fine wine. But I think I’ll stick to the Beer of Mild Annoyance.]
He has loosed the fateful lightening of His terrible swift sword
[Hey, Howe, I think you have your deities mixed up. It’s Zeus who has the lightning.]
His truth is marching on.

Glory! Glory! Hallelujah!
Glory! Glory! Hallelujah!
Glory! Glory! Hallelujah!
His truth is marching on.

I have seen Him in the watch-fires of a hundred circling camps
They have builded Him an altar in the evening dews and damps
I can read His righteous sentence by the dim and flaring lamps
His day is marching on.
[As if Jesus takes sides in mankind’s stupid little wars. To say that He does is, simply, blasphemy.]

Glory! Glory! Hallelujah!
Glory! Glory! Hallelujah!
Glory! Glory! Hallelujah!
His day is marching on.

I have read a fiery gospel writ in burnish`d rows of steel,
"As ye deal with my contemners, So with you my grace shall deal;"
[Wait a minute. So Jesus will deal with me the way I deal with the people who contemn [condemn] Jesus? So if I treat Jesus’ “contemners” nicely, then Jesus will treat *me* nicely, but if I’m harsh with Jesus’ “contemners,” then Jesus will be harsh with me. That makes sense-at least, it makes at least as much sense as Jesus being on the side of the North in the Civil War.]
Let the Hero, born of woman, crush the serpent with his heel
[I am not aware of a single piece of Biblical exegesis, other than this song, which suggests that the crushing of the serpent refers to the North crushing the South.]
Since God is marching on.

Glory! Glory! Hallelujah!
Glory! Glory! Hallelujah!
Glory! Glory! Hallelujah!
Since God is marching on.

He has sounded forth the trumpet that shall never call retreat
He is sifting out the hearts of men before His judgment-seat
Oh, be swift, my soul, to answer Him! be jubilant, my feet!
[I’m glad to see that Howe’s feet are capable of being jubilant. At least she has brains somewhere in her body.]
Our God is marching on.

Glory! Glory! Hallelujah!
Glory! Glory! Hallelujah!
Glory! Glory! Hallelujah!
Our God is marching on.

In the beauty of the lilies Christ was born across the sea,
With a glory in His bosom that transfigures you and me:
As He died to make men holy, let us die to make men free,
[Surely one of the vilest blasphemies ever uttered-comparing professional killers (soldiers) to Jesus.]
While God is marching on.

Glory! Glory! Hallelujah!
Glory! Glory! Hallelujah!
Glory! Glory! Hallelujah!
While God is marching on.

Shifting gears a little bit, we come to a song which expresses a contrary opinion about where God stood in the War Between the States. This is Albert Pike’s version of “Dixie.” The original lyrics to “Dixie”-you know, the land of cotton and all that-were used in a minstrel show just before the war. Thank goodness that Pike was sensitive enough not to do any minstrel stuff in his version. We need more sensitive people like him.

Southrons, hear your country call you!
[Fortunately, I have a call-waiting feature.]
Up, lest worse than death befall you!
[Worse than death? Sounds pretty awful. What could be “worse than death” to a Southerner? Unsweetened iced tea? Neil Young? Sitting through “Cats?”]
To arms! To arms! To arms! In Dixie!
Lo! all the beacon fires are lighted
[What’s wrong with the telegraph? Or maybe the Confederates had been reading too many Walter Scott novels.]
Let all hearts be now united!
To arms! To arms! To arms! In Dixie!

CHORUS:
Advance the flag of Dixie!
Hurrah! Hurrah!
For Dixie's Land we take our stand,
And live or die for Dixie!
To arms! To arms!
And conquer peace for Dixie!
[“Conquer peace”-that’s a good one.]

Hear the Northern thunders mutter!
Northern flags in South winds flutter!
To arms! To arms! To arms! In Dixie!
Send them back your fierce defiance!
Stamp upon the cursed alliance!
[What alliance? The North didn’t have allies. The Northerners were hard-put to it to stop other countries from recognizing the Confederacy. Are we dealing with an alliance of one?]
To arms! To arms! To arms! In Dixie!
(CHORUS)

Fear no danger! Shun no labor!
[You Confederate boneheads must have shunned *some* labor-the labor you had your slaves do. If you didn’t have slaves doing the work you shunned, the war wouldn’t have happened.]
Lift up rifle, pike, and sabre!
[Not all at once, though, because you might drop something.]
To arms! To arms! To arms! In Dixie!
Shoulder pressing close to shoulder,
Let the odds make each heart bolder!
[“Shoulder pressing close to shoulder?” Are you guys marching through a tunnel or something? Or maybe the Confederates, given the war emergency, have relaxed recruitment requirements and let gays into the military, so that they will have an excuse to press their shoulders, etc. against their companions.]
To arms! To arms! To arms! In Dixie!
(CHORUS)

How the South's great heart rejoices
At your cannon's ringing voices!
To arms! To arms! To arms! In Dixie!
For faith betrayed and pledges broken,
Wrongs inflicted, insults spoken,
[“Insults spoken?” Aren’t you people overreacting just a tad? Instead of going to war over insults, just send a nasty email. That’s what most people do.]
To arms! To arms! To arms! In Dixie!
(CHORUS)

Strong as lions, swift as eagles,
Back to their kennels hunt these beagles!
[At least they didn’t say “wizards, Kludds, and Kleagles.”]
To arms! To arms! To arms! In Dixie!
Cut the unequal bond asunder!
Let them hence each other plunder!
[That’s the way it should be-Northerners plunder Northerners, and Southerners plunder Southerners, and everyone gets along just fine.]
To arms! To arms! To arms! In Dixie!
(CHORUS)

Swear upon your country's altar
Never to submit or falter!
To arms! To arms! To arms! In Dixie!
Till the spoilers are defeated,
Till the Lord's work is completed,
[But the “Battle Hymn” said that the Lord was supporting the North. The Lord have been pretty busy.]
To arms! To arms! To arms! In Dixie!
(CHORUS)

Halt not till our Federation
Secures among earth's powers its station!
[The Federation? You mean like in Star Trek, the United Federation of Planets?]
To arms! To arms! To arms! In Dixie!
Then at peace, and crowned with glory,
Hear your children tell the story!
[And you can interrupt the children whenever they get it wrong. Finally, the children will say, “tell the story yourself, instead of always interrupting us.”]
To arms! To arms! To arms! In Dixie!
(CHORUS)

If the loved ones weep in sadness,
Victory soon shall bring them gladness.
To arms! To arms! To arms! In Dixie!
Exultant pride soon banish sorrow;
Smiles chase tears away tomorrow.
[Tomorrow is, after all, another day.]
To arms! To arms! To arms! In Dixie!
(CHORUS)

Now, let’s have two warlike songs which are set to the tune of “O Christmas Tree.” What is it about “O, Christmas Tree” that inspires militarism? Maybe it’s the fact that the original version of “O Christmas Tree” was in German.

The first “Christmas Tree” song I will present for your entertainment is “Maryland! my Maryland!,” by James Ryder Randall, who wrote the song in 1861 in order to encourage Maryland to join the Confederacy (it didn’t). I don’t understand all the historical references, but there’s a reference to a Baltimore riot in 1861 in which a mob attacked U. S. soldiers. The soldiers shot into the mob, and I presume that this created the “patriotic gore” to which the song alludes.

This song is now the official song of the state of Maryland. They didn’t join the Confederacy during the war itself, but at least they can sing this now that it’s safe.

The despot's heel is on thy shore, Maryland!
[The despot is Lincoln, in case you had any doubt.]
His touch is on thy temple door, Maryland!
Avenge the patriotic gore
That flecked the streets of Baltimore,
And be the Battle-queen of yore,
[Randall, stop being such a bore!]
Maryland! my Maryland!

Hark to a wand'ring son's appeal, Maryland!
My mother state! to thee I kneel, Maryland!
[Randall was safe in Louisiana, which is why he called himself a wand’ring son.]
For life and death, for woe and weal,
Thy peerless chivalry reveal,
And gird thy beauteous limbs with steel,
[Beauteous limbs, like Xena, the Warrior Princess? This is starting to turn me on.]
Maryland! my Maryland!

Thou wilt not cower in the dust, Maryland!
Thy beaming sword will never rust, Maryland!
Remember Carroll's sacred trust,
Remember Howard's warlike thrust,
[How manly!]
And all thy slumberers with the just,
[That means dead guys.]
Maryland! my Maryland!

Come! 'tis the red dawn of the day, Maryland!
Come with thy panoplied array, Maryland!
With Ringgold's spirit for the fray,
[Whoever that is]
With Watson's blood at Monterey,
[Apparently some guy who fought in the Mexican War]
With fearless Lowe and dashing May,
[Who these dudes are I have no idea]
Maryland! my Maryland!

Come! for thy shield is bright and strong, Maryland!
Come! for thy dalliance does thee wrong, Maryland!
Come to thy own heroic throng,
That stalks with liberty along,
And gives a new Key to the song,
[I knew Francis Scott Key. Francis Scott Key was a friend of mine. And, Randall, you’re no Francis Scott Key.]
Maryland! my Maryland!

Dear Mother! burst the Tyrant's chain, Maryland!
Virginia should not call in vain, Maryland!
She meets her sisters on the plain—
"Sic semper!" 'tis the proud refrain,
That baffles minions back again,
[This refers to the state motto of Virginia, “Sic Semper Tyrannis,” Latin for “Thus Always to Tyrants” (alternate translation: “Hasta la vista, tyrants”). The motto can be best understood by looking at the Virginia state seal, which displays the motto under a picture of the goddess “Virtus.” Virginia’s home page describes the goddess: “She is dressed as an Amazon, armed with a spear and sword, and stands over a defeated despot.” John Wilkes Booth uttered the Virginia State Motto after killing Lincoln. Despite this fact, Virginia kept the slogan. Wait a minute, why does this guy have the state motto of Virginia in Maryland’s official state song? Why can’t the song drop Virginia’s controversial motto and replace it with Maryland’s noncontroversial motto, “fatti maschi, parole femini.” According to some, this Italian phrase simply means that actions are masculine and words are feminine (or maybe it means use male actions with female words). Nothing controversial about that.]
Maryland! my Maryland!

I see the blush upon thy cheek, Maryland!
For thou wast ever bravely meek, Maryland!
[This is the only war song I know of which acknowledges that meekness can entail courage.]
But lo! there surges forth a shriek,
From hill to hill, from creek to creek,
Potomac calls to Chesapeake,
[Randall, you are such a geek.]
Maryland! my Maryland!

Thou wilt not yield the Vandal toll, Maryland!
Thou wilt not crook to his control, Maryland!
Better the fire upon thee roll,
Better the blade, the shot, the bowl,
Than crucifixion of the soul, Maryland! my Maryland!
[Maryland chose to crucify its soul and stick with the North. She almost missed out on the fire and the blade.]

I hear the distant thunder hum, Maryland!
The old line's bugle, fife and drum, Maryland!
She is not dead, nor deaf, nor dumb,
Huzzah! she spurns the Northern scum,
[I bet that Maryland has the only state song that includes the word “scum.” Man, that’s so cool. Too bad Randall waited until the last verse.]
She breathes, she burns, she'll come, she'll come,
Maryland! my Maryland!

Continuing with the theme of songs set to the tune of “O Christmas Tree,” we have Jim Connell’s classic, “The Red Flag.” Speaking of Lost Causes.

The people's flag is deepest red
It shrouded oft our martyred dead,
[That’s redundant. If you’re martyred, you are, ipso facto, dead.]
And ere their limbs grew stiff and cold
Their heart's blood dyed its every fold.
[Well, get some detergent and wash the blood out, fools!]

CHORUS:
Then raise the scarlet standard high,
Beneath its shade we'll live and die,
Though cowards flinch, and traitors sneer
We'll keep the Red Flag flying here!

It waved above our infant might
When all ahead seemed dark as night.
It witnessed many a deed and vow,
We must not change its colour now.
[I don’t know-mauve sounds nice.]
(CHORUS)

Look 'round the Frenchman loves its blaze,
The sturdy German chants its praise;
In Moscow's vaults its hymns are sung,
Chicago joins the swelling throng.
[OK, I suspended disbelief with France, Germany, and Moscow, but *Chicago?*]
(CHORUS)

It well recalls the triumphs past,
It brings the hope of peace at last;
The banner bright, the symbol plain,
Of human right and human gain.
(CHORUS)

With heads uncovered swear we all
To bear it onward till we fall;
Come dungeon dark, or gallows grim,
This song shall be our parting hymn.
(CHORUS)
[I heard some alternative verses to this song: “The working class can kiss my ass/I’ve got the foreman’s job at last.”]