Musik über den 1.WK

Hallo!
Kennt Ihr gute Musik über den 1.WK?
Ich fange mal an mit den genialen Lied "And the band played waltzing Matilda". (mit der einmaligen Stimme von Ronnie Drew)
Handelt von Suvla-Bay, als die Türken den Australiern kräftig den Popo versohlt haben.
Text:
Now when I was a young man I carried me pack
And I lived the free life of the rover.
From the Murray′s green basin to the dusty outback,
Well, I waltzed my Matilda all over.
Then in 1915, my country said, "Son,
It's time you stop ramblin′, there's work to be done."
So they gave me a tin hat, and they gave me a gun,
And they marched me away to the war.

And the band played "Waltzing Matilda,"
As the ship pulled away from the quay,
And amidst all the cheers, the flag waving, and tears,
We sailed off for Gallipoli.


And how well I remember that terrible day,
How our blood stained the sand and the water;
And of how in that hell that they call Suvla Bay
We were butchered like lambs at the slaughter.
Johnny Turk, he was waitin', he primed himself well;
He showered us with bullets, and he rained us with shell --
And in five minutes flat, he′d blown us all to hell,
Nearly blew us right back to Australia.

But the band played "Waltzing Matilda,"
When we stopped to bury our slain,
Well, we buried ours, and the Turks buried theirs,
Then we started all over again.

And those that were left, well, we tried to survive
In that mad world of blood, death and fire.
And for ten weary weeks I kept myself alive
Though around me the corpses piled higher.
Then a big Turkish shell knocked me arse over head,
And when I woke up in me hospital bed
And saw what it had done, well, I wished I was dead --
Never knew there was worse things than dying.

For I′ll go no more "Waltzing Matilda,"
All around the green bush far and free --
To hump tents and pegs, a man needs both legs,
No more "Waltzing Matilda" for me.


So they gathered the crippled, the wounded, the maimed,
And they shipped us back home to Australia.
The armless, the legless, the blind, the insane,
Those proud wounded heroes of Suvla.
And as our ship sailed into Circular Quay,
I looked at the place where me legs used to be,
And thanked Christ there was nobody waiting for me,
To grieve, to mourn and to pity.

But the band played "Waltzing Matilda,"
As they carried us down the gangway,
But nobody cheered, they just stood and stared,
Then they turned all their faces away.

And so now every April, I sit on my porch
And I watch the parade pass before me.
And I see my old comrades, how proudly they march,
Reviving old dreams of past glory,
And the old men march slowly, all bones stiff and sore,
They're tired old heroes from a forgotten war
And the young people ask "What are they marching for?"
And I ask meself the same question.

But the band plays "Waltzing Matilda,"
And the old men still answer the call,
But as year follows year, more old men disappear
Someday, no one will march there at all.

Waltzing Matilda, waltzing Matilda.
Who′ll come a-waltzing Matilda with me?
And their ghosts may be heard as they march by that billabong,
Who'll come a-Waltzing Matilda with me?

Schönes Video von den "Dubliners":

 

Gleich noch eins.
"Green fields of France" von Joss Stone (is dat´n Leckerchen...)
Well, how do you do, Young Willie McBride,
Do you mind if I sit down here by your graveside?
And rest for awhile neath the warm summer sun,
I've been walking all day, and I'm nearly done.
And I see by your gravestone you were only 19
When you joined the great fallen in 1916,
Well, I hope you died well and I hope you died clean
Or young Willie McBride, was it slow and obscene?

Did they Beat the drum slowly, did the play the fife
Lowly?
Did they sound the death march as they lowered you
Down?
Did the band play The Last Post and chorus?
Did the pipes play the Flowers of the Forest?


Did you leave a wife or a sweetheart behind
In some faithful heart is your memory enshrined?
And, though you died back in 1916,
In that faithful heart are you forever 19?
Or are you a stranger without even a name,
Enclosed forever behind a glass pane,
In an old photograph, torn and tattered and stained,
And fading to yellow in a brown leather frame?

Did they Beat the drum slowly, did the play the fife
Lowly?
Did they sound the death march as they lowered you
Down?
Did the band play The Last Post and chorus?
Did the pipes play the Flowers of the Forest?

Young Willie McBride, I can't help wonder why
Do all those who lie here know why they died?
Did they believe when they answered "The Cause?"
Did they really believe that this war would end wars?
Well the killing, the suffering, the glory, the pain
The killing, the dying, was all done in vain,
For young Willie McBride, it all happened again,
And again, and again, and again, and again.


Did they Beat the drum slowly, did the play the fife
Lowly?
Did they sound the death march as they lowered you
Down?
Did the band play The Last Post and chorus?
Did the pipes play the Flowers of the Forest?

The sun now it shines on the green fields of France;
There's a warm summer breeze that makes the red poppies
Dance.
And see how the Sun shines from under the cloud
There's no gas, no barbed wire, there's no guns firing
Now.
But here in this graveyard it's still No Man's Land
The countless white crosses lie mute in the sand
To man's blind indifference to his fellow man.
And to a whole generation that were butchered and
Damned.

Did they Beat the drum slowly, did the play the fife
Lowly?
Did they sound the death march as they lowered you
Down?
Did the band play The Last Post and chorus?
Did the pipes play the Flowers of the Forest?

 

und noch eins für heute.
Motörhead mit 1916.
16 years old when I went to the war
To fight for a land fit for heroes
God on my side, and a gun in my hand
Chasing my days down to zero

And I marched and I fought and I bled and I die
And I never did get any older
But I knew at the time, that a year in the line
Was a long enough life for a soldier

We all volunteered and we wrote down our names
And we added two years to our ages
Eager for life and ahead of the game
Ready for history's pages


And we brawled and we fought and we whored 'til we stood
Ten thousand shoulder to shoulder
A thirst for the Hun, we were food for the gun
And that's what you are when you're soldiers

I heard my friend cry and he sank to his knees
Coughing blood as he screamed for his mother
And I fell by his side and that's how we died
Clinging like kids to each other

And I lay in the mud and the guts and the blood
And I wept as his body grew colder
And I called for my mother and she never came
Though it wasn't my fault and I wasn't to blame

The day not half over and ten thousand slain
And now there's nobody remembers our names
And that's how it is for a soldier

 

Sabaton ist genial! Aber ich wollte die Ohren der lieben Foristen schonen...

 

Aber nicht so süß wie Joss...
Die Version kannte ich noch nicht. Vielen Dank, Charlie!

 

Moin Thomas!
Due Stücke wurden von verschiedenen Bands interpretiert. Man hat da auch schon mal umgetextet.

 

JA! Pogues sind genial. Obwohl der Sänger Shane McGowan öfter mal einen zu viel hatte...

 

Aber hier noch eine sehr schöne Version aus Schweden.
Gänsehaut garantiert!

 

Einen hab ich noch...
Mit Sunderland Dialekt...