Auprès de ma Blonde

This is by far my most favorite French soldier song. So I created a special video for this song with some battle scenes from Napoleon Total War and added lyrics to it so you can sing along. I hope you enjoy it and feel free to give me feedback on the video. I would really appreciate it.

About the song:
Auprès de ma blonde" or "Le Prisonnier de Hollande" is a popular french chanson dating back to the 17th century. The song tells the story of a lady who laments to the birds in her father's garden that her soldier-husband is a prisoner in Holland. The first known publishing of the song was in 1704. Soon after the Franco-Dutch War in 1672–1678 when French sailors and soldiers were commonly imprisoned in the Netherlands. It later became very popular in the ranks of Napoleons Grande Armée.

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French lyrics:

Dans les jardins d’mon père
Les lilas sont fleuris
Dans les jardins d’mon père
Les lilas sont fleuris
Tous les oiseaux du monde
Viennent y faire leur nid

Auprès de ma blonde
Qu’il fait bon, fait bon, fait bon
Auprès de ma blonde
Qu’il fait bon dormir

Tous les oiseaux du monde
Viennent y faire leur nid
Tous les oiseaux du monde
Viennent y faire leur nid
La caille, la tourterelle
Et la jolie perdrix

Auprès de ma blonde …

La caille, la tourterelle
Et la jolie perdrix
La caille, la tourterelle
Et la jolie perdrix
Et ma jolie colombe
Qui chante jour et nuit

Auprès de ma blonde …

Et ma jolie colombe
Qui chante jour et nuit
Et ma jolie colombe
Qui chante jour et nuit
Qui chante pour les filles
Qui n’ont pas de mari

Auprès de ma blonde …

Qui chante pour les filles
Qui n’ont pas de mari
Qui chante pour les filles
Qui n’ont pas de mari
Pour moi ne chante guère
Car j’en ai un joli

Auprès de ma blonde …

Pour moi ne chante guère
Car j’en ai un joli
Pour moi ne chante guère
Car j’en ai un joli
Dites-nous donc, la belle
Où donc est vot’ mari

Auprès de ma blonde …

Dites-nous donc, la belle
Où donc est vot’ mari
Dites-nous donc, la belle
Où donc est vot’ mari
Il est dans la Hollande
Les Hollandais l’ont pris

Auprès de ma blonde …

Il est dans la Hollande
Les Hollandais l’ont pris
Il est dans la Hollande
Les Hollandais l’ont pris
Que donneriez-vous, belle
Pour avoir votre ami

Auprès de ma blonde …

Que donneriez-vous, belle
Pour avoir votre ami
Que donneriez-vous, belle
Pour avoir votre ami
Je donnerai Versailles
Paris et Saint-Denis

Auprès de ma blonde …

Je donnerai Versailles
Paris et Saint-Denis
Je donnerai Versailles
Paris et Saint-Denis
Les tours de Notre-Dame
Et l’clocher d’mon pays

Auprès de ma blonde …

Les tours de Notre-Dame
Et l’clocher d’mon pays
Les tours de Notre-Dame
Et l’clocher d’mon pays
Et ma jolie colombe
Qui chante jour et nuit

This song was performed by Hal Collomb and appeard on the album:
Anthologie de la chanson française : chansons de soldats (Conscrits, soldats et déserteurs)
from 15 Oct 2005

The Shannon and the Chesapeake

This song tells the story of the Battle between Shannon and Chesapeake in Anglo-American war of 1812 on June 1 in 1813.

When the United States first declared war on the British Empire during the summer of 1812, the British Navy was secure in its size and strength and did not see the small and untested American Navy as any kind of threat.

It didn’t take long for that assumption to be proven wrong. The newer, faster American ships were heavily armed and their crews were well trained. By the end of the war’s first year, five major naval battles had taken place and each one had resulted in defeat for the British.

As the second year of the war began, the British Navy’s need for a victory was desperate. Just before setting out to sea from Halifax, Captain Philip Broke of HMS Shannonstated in a letter to his wife, “We must catch one of those great American ships and send her home for a show.” In three short months, Captain Broke would do just that.

On June 1, 1813, HMS Shannon challenged USS Chesapeake to a battle off Boston Harbour. Even though the two vessels were evenly-matched, Bostonians eagerly anticipated yet another American victory and began preparing celebrations before the battle had even begun.

Those spectators were soon left shocked as a short, but very bloody confrontation ensued. As cannons raged and boarding parties attacked, Chesapeake’s wounded Captain, James Lawrence, famously shouted at his men: “Don’t give up the ship”, but those words were in vain. In less than fifteen minutes, Chesapeake had been defeated in what would become one of history’s deadliest single-frigate battles.

Wasting no time, a prize crew was put aboard Chesapeake and Shannon escorted her and her surviving crew to Halifax, arriving there on June 6, 1813.

English lyrics:

Now the Cheasapeake so bold
Sailed from Boston we've been told,
For to take the British frigate neat and handy, O!
The people in the port
All came out to see the sport,
And the bands were playing "Yankee Doodle Dandy, O!"

The British frigate's name,
Which for the purpose came
To cool the Yankee courage neat and handy-o,
Was the Shannon Captain Broke,
All her men were hearts of oak.
And at fighting were allowed to be dandy-o.

The fight had scarce begun
Ere they flinched from their guns,
Which at first they started working neat and handy-o.
Then brave Broke he waved his sword,
Crying, "Now, my lads, aboard,
And we'll stop their playing 'Yankee Doodle Dandy-O.'"

They no sooner heard the word,
Than they quickly jumped aboard,
And hauled down the Yankee colors neat and handy-o;
Notwithstanding all their brag,
Now the glorious British flag
At the Yankee mizzen peak was quite the dandy-o.

Here's a health, brave Broke, to you,
To your officers and crew,
Who aboard the Shannon frigate fought so handy-o;
And may it always prove,
That in fighting and in love,
The British tar forever is the dandy-o.

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From the album: Roast Beef of Old England performed by Jerry Bryant and Starboard Mess released on September 15, 2005.

The Battle of the Nile / Sailor's Cravat

The first tune is only referring to the Battle of the Nile in 1798, since it was composed originally entitled as “The Naval Pillar” in support of a proposed memorial column of that name to have been erected in London to commemorate Lord Nelson’s victory over the French. The melody was claimed to be Irish or at least Irish in character.

The second part is called The Sailor's Cravat. It is a traditional Irish reel.

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From the album: Roast Beef of Old England performed by Jerry Bryant and Starboard Mess released on September 15, 2005.

Yankee Doodle

For detailed historic background of this tune click below:(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_VDqRKukT_M)

This is a tune of the project "The Nathan Hale Ancient Fifes and Drums Music of the American Revolution".

Ein Heller und ein Batzen

A German drinking song. Popular among students and soldiers.
Written by Albert Graf Schlippenbach in 1830. Heller and Batzen are old names of currencies used in the German lands.

German lyrics:

Ein Heller und ein Batzen,
Die waren beide mein, ja mein
Der Heller ward zu Wasser,
Der Batzen zu Wein, ja Wein,
Heidi, heido, heida
Heidi, heido, heido hahaha

Die Wirtsleut und die Mädel,
Die rufen beid‘: „Oh weh! Oh weh!“,
Die Wirtsleut, wenn ich komme,
Die Mädel, wenn ich geh, ja geh.

Mein Strümpf die sind zerrissen,
Mein Stiefel sind entzwei
Und draußen auf der Heide,
Da singt der Vogel frei

Und gäb’s kein Landstraß nirgends,
Da säß ich still zu Haus
Und gäb’s kein Loch im Fasse,
Da tränk ich gar nicht draus!

Das war ’ne wahre Freude,
Als mich der Herrgott schuf
Einen Kerl wie Samt und Seide,
Nur schade, daß er suff

Schwarzbraun ist die Haselnuss

First off all: Thank you for 600 subscribers!

There are several older text versions from the 19th century. The melody used here is just one of many variations in which the song was sung.
Many years ago, famous German singer Heino sung the song in the South African Union at the time of apartheid and was then referred to as "Nazi". Because of the close proximity to the brown uniform of the Hitler Youth and the NSDAP as well as the black of the SS uniforms, the song is frowned upon as a Nazi song in anti-fascist circles. In my opinion, that is a far-flung interpretation.
The song is a love song in content so I suggest it should continue to be recognized as a folk song.

German lyrics:

Schwarzbraun ist die Haselnuss,
Schwarzbraun bin auch ich, ja, bin auch ich,
Schwarzbraun muss mein Mädel sein,
Gerade so wie ich.
Holderi juvi juvi di ha ha ha.

Mädel hat mir Busserl geb'n,
Hat mich schwer gekränkt, ja, schwer gekränkt
Hab ich's ihr gleich wiedergeb'n,
Ich nehm ja nichts geschenkt.
Holderi juvi juvi di ha ha ha.

Mädel hat nicht Hof noch Haus,
Mädel hat kein Geld, ja, hat kein Geld.
Doch ich geb sie nicht heraus
Für alles in der Welt.
Holderi juvi juvi di ha ha ha.

Schwarzbraun ist die Haselnuss,
Schwarzbraun bin auch ich, ja, bin auch ich
Schwarzbraun muss mein Mädel sein,
Gerade so wie ich.
Holderi juvi juvi di ha ha ha.

Der Mächtigste König Im Luftrevier

This is a song of the German U-Boat crews during the First World War. It is also known as "U-Boot-Fahrer Lied".

German lyrics:

Der mächtigste König im Luftrevier
ist des Sturmes gewaltiger Aar.
Die Vöglein erzittern,
vernehmen sie sein rauschendes Flügelpaar.
Wenn der Löwe in der Wüste brüllt,
so erzittert das tierische Heer.
Ja, wir sind die Herren der Welt,
die Könige auf dem Meer.
Tirallala, tirallala, tirallala, tirallala.
Hei, hei! Ja, wir sind die Herren der Welt,
die Könige auf dem Meer.

Zeigt sich ein Schiff auf dem Ozean,
so jubeln wir laut und wild.
Unser stolzes Schiff fliegt dem Pfeile gleich
durch das brausende Wogengefild.
Der Kaufmann erzittert vor Angst und vor Weh,
den Matrosen entsinket der Mut,
wenn steiget am schwankenden Mast
unsre Flagge, so rot wie das Blut.
Tirallala, tirallala, tirallala, tirallala.
Hei, hei! Ja, wir sind die Herren der Welt,
die Könige auf dem Meer.

Wir stürzen uns auf das feindliche Schiff,
wie ein losgeschossener Pfeil.
Die Kanone donnert, die Muskete kracht,
laut rasselt das Enterbeil.
Und die feindliche Flagge, schon sinkt sie herab,
da ertönt unser Siegesgeschrei:
Die See, das brausende Meer,
hoch lebe die Seeräuberei!
Tirallala, tirallala, tirallala, tirallala.
Hei, hei! Ja, wir sind die Herren der Welt,
die Könige auf dem Meer.

Wir lagen vor Madagaskar

It is not certain that the song actually refers to an event from the Russian-Japanese War (1904/1905). The units of the Baltic Fleet (later renamed the Second Pacific Fleet), anchored in Latvian ports or partially abandoned, had to cover 18,000 nautical miles, before the decisive battle took place in 1905 on the island of Tsushima in the Sea of Japan. It ended with a devastating defeat of Russia.

It is easy to imagine the hardships and adversities faced by the sailors on the eight-month journey, especially as the Russian warships had to drive through the Kattegat, through the English Channel and around the Cape of Good Hope. Since Britain was not allied with Russia, the Russian fleet could not use the Suez Canal. The first and only way to stop on the way was Madagascar. Madagascar was then a French colony and France was the only ally of Russia. Repairs and other necessary work were carried out in the roadstead on the island of Nosy Be, a Madagascar offshore island. After a three-month compulsory break, the second united with the Third Pacific Squadron. During this time, typhus - not the plague - had broken out on a ship. Some of the dead were given a sailor's grave, other dead people remained on the island and were buried there after their death. Several years later, in honor of the events, a Russian monument was erected in Hell Ville, the ancient capital of the island.

The text of the song probably refers to this historical event. Wir lagen vor Madagaskar (We lay in front of Madagascar). The folk song collector and researcher Michael Zachcial suspects that the song spread about members of the Covenant Youth. It remains to be seen from where the covenants knew the song or whether it originated in their circles.

German lyrics:

Wir lagen vor Madagaskar
Und hatten die Pest an Bord.
In den Kesseln, da faulte das Wasser,
Und täglich ging einer über Bord.

Ahoi, Kameraden, ahoi, ahoi.
Leb wohl kleines Mädel, leb wohl, leb wohl.

Wir lagen schon vierzehn Tage,
Kein Wind in die Segel uns pfiff.
Der Durst war die größte Plage,
Dann liefen wir auf ein Riff.
Ahoi, Kameraden...

Der Langbein der war der erste,
Der soff von dem faulen Nass.
Die Pest gab ihm das Letzte,
Und wir ihm ein Seemannsgrab.
Ahoi, Kameraden...

Und endlich nach 30 Tagen,
Da kam ein Schiff in Sicht,
Jedoch es fuhr vorüber
Und sah uns Tote nicht.
Ahoi, Kameraden...

Kameraden, wann sehn wir uns wieder,
Kameraden, wann kehren wir zurück,
Und setzen zum Trunke uns nieder
Und genießen das ferne Glück.
Ahoi, Kameraden...

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BUNDESLIED VOR DER SCHLACHT

Also known as "Ahnungsgrauend". Another famous German song of the Napoleonic wars or Befreiungskriege as it is called in German. During this war the Germans started to feel and think as one people unite by the enemy they saw in Napoleon.

It was also written in 1813 by Theodor Körner, who wrote many patriotic texts. Like "LÜTZWOS WILDE VERWEGENE JAGD" (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BzeKqqG3uJA)
The melody was composed by J. H. E. Bornhardt in 1815.

German lyrics of the original song:

Ahnungsgrauend, todesmutig
bricht der große Morgen an
und die Sonne, kalt und blutig
leuchtet unsrer blutgen Bahn
In der nächsten Stunden Schoße
liegt das Schicksal einer Welt
und es zittern schon die Lose
und der ehrne Würfel fällt

(in this version the song ends with:
Wer legt noch die Hände feig in den Schoß?
Das Volk steht auf!
Der Sturm bricht los!)

Brüder, euch mahne die dämmernde Stunde
mahne euch ernst zu dem heiligsten Bunde
treu so zum Tod, wie zum Leben gesellt

Hinter uns, im Graun der Nächte
liegt die Schande, liegt die Schmach
liegt der Frevel fremder Knechte
der die deutsche Eiche brach
Unsre Sprache ward geschändet
unsre Tempel stürzten ein
unsre Ehre ist verpfändet
deutsche Brüder, löst sie ein
Brüder, die Rache flammt. Reicht euch die Hände
daß sich der Fluch der Himmlischen wende
Löst das verlorne Palladium ein

Vor uns liegt ein glücklich Hoffen
liegt der Zukunft goldne Zeit
steht ein ganzer Himmel offen
blüht der Freiheit Seligkeit.
Deutsche Kunst und deutsche Lieder
Frauenhuld und Liebesglück
alles Große kommt uns wieder
alles Schöne kehrt zurück
Aber noch gilt es ein gräßliches Wagen
Leben und Blut in die Schanze zu schlagen
nur in dem Opfertod reift uns das Glück

Nun, mit Gott, wir wollen wagen
fest vereint dem Schicksal stehn
unser Herz zum Altar tragen
und dem Tod entgegen gehn.
Vaterland, dir wolln wir sterben
wie dein großes Wort gebeut
Unsre Lieben mögen´s erben
was wir mit dem Blut befreit
Wachse, du Freiheit der deutschen Eichen
wachse empor über unsere Leichen!
Vaterland, höre den heiligen Eid

Und nun wendet eure Blicke
noch einmal der Liebe nach
scheidet von dem Bütenglücke
das der giftge Süden brach
Wird euch auch das Auge trüber
keine Träne bringt euch Spott
werft den letzten Kuß hinüber
dann befehlt sie eurem Gott
Alle die Lippen, die für uns beten
alle die Herzen, die wir zertreten
tröste und schütze sie, ewiger Gott

Und nun frisch zur Schlacht gewendet
Aug und Herz zum Licht hinauf
Alles Irdsche ist vollendet
und das Himmlische geht auf
Faßt euch an, ihr deutschen Brüder
jeder Nerve sei ein Held
Treue Herzen sehn sich wieder
Lebewohl für diese Welt
Hört ihr´s, schon jauchzt es uns donnernd entgegen
Brüder, hinein in den blitzenden Regen
Wiedersehn in der besseren Welt

This song was written by the famous troubadour Marcabru. Marcabru is one of the earliest troubadours whose poems are known. There is no certain information about him; the two vidas attached to his poems tell different stories, and both are evidently built on hints in the poems, not on independent information.

Lyrics original:

Pax in nomine Domini
Fetz Marcabrus los motz e·l so.
Aujatz que di:
Cum nos a fait, per sa doussor,
Lo Seingnorius celestiaus
Probet de nos un lavador,
C'anc, fors outramar, no·n fon taus,
En de lai deves Josaphas:
E d'aquest de sai vos conort.

Lavar de ser e de maiti
Nos deuriam, segon razo,
Ie·us o afi.
Chascus a del lavar legor!
Domentre qu'el es sas e saus,
Deuri' anar al lavador,
Que·ns es verais medicinaus!
Que s'abans anam a la mort,
D'aut en sus aurem alberc bas.

Mas Escarsedatz e No-fes
Part Joven de son compaigno.
Ai cals dols es,
Que tuich volon lai li plusor,
Don lo gazaings es enfernaus
S'anz non correm al lavador
C'ajam la boca ni·ls huoills claus,
Non i a un d'orguoill tant gras
C'al morir non trob contrafort.

Que·l Seigner que sap tot quant es
E sap tot quant er e c'anc fo,
Nos i promes
Honor e nom d'emperador.
E·il beutatz sera, --sabetz caus--
De cels qu'iran al lavador
Plus que l'estela gauzignaus!
Ab sol que vengem Dieu del tort
Que·ill fan sai, e lai vas Domas.

Probet del lignatge Cai,
Del primeiran home felho,
A tans aissi
C'us a Dieu non porta honor!
Veirem qui·ll er amics coraus!
C'ab la vertut del lavador
Nos sera Jhezus comunaus!
E tornem los garssos atras
Qu'en agur crezon et en sort

E·il luxurios corna-vi,
Coita-disnar, bufa-tizo,
Crup-en-cami
Remanran inz el felpidor!
Dieus vol los arditz e·ls suaus
Assajar a son lavador!
E cil gaitaran los ostaus!
E trobaran fort contrafort,
So per qu'ieu a lor anta·ls chas.

En Espaigna, sai, lo Marques
E cill del temple Salamo
Sofron lo pes
E·l fais de l'orguoill paganor,
Per que Jovens cuoill avol laus.
E·l critz per aquest lavador
Versa sobre·ls plus rics captaus
Fraitz, faillitz, de proeza las,
Que non amon Joi ni Deport.

Desnaturat son li Frances,
Si de l'afar Dieu dizon no,
Qu'ie·us ai comes.
Antiocha, Pretz e Valor
Sai plora Guiana e Peitaus.
Dieus, Seigner, al tieu lavador
L'arma del comte met en paus:
E sai gart Peitieus e Niort
Lo Seigner qui ressors del vas!

English translation:

Pax in nomine Domini!
Marcabru wrote the lyrics and the tune.
Listen to what he says:
just as, out of his kindness, he made us,
the heavenly lord
provided us with a lavoir
such as there never was another, except overseas,
around Jehoshaphat:
and it is from the one here that I urge you.

We should wash morning
and evening, according to reason,
I assure you,
and everyone has leisure to wash!
While he is alive and well,
everyone should go to the lavoir,
which is a real elixir of health,
for if we die before [we do],
instead of up high, we will have dwellings deep down.

But Ill Will and Faithlessness
separate Youth from its companion.
Alas! What a pain it is
that most fly where
the reward is an infernal one!
If we don't run to the lavoir
before our mouth and eyes are closed,
there is no man so swollen with pride
that he doesn't find his match in Death.

For our lord, who knows all that is
and all that has been and was
has promised us
honour in the name of the emperor.
And–You know what?–beauty will be
upon those who go to the lavoir,
more than upon the Morning Star,
if we avenge the wrong made to god
here and there, around Damascus.

Granted, of the race of Cain,
of that first felonious man,
here are many,
none of which honours god.
We'll see who is his good friend
because by virtue of the lavoir,
Jesus will be with us all.
And let's chase away from us the dark scoundrels
who believe in omens and spells.

And those lustful wine guzzlers,
meal devourers, ember blowers,
sitters upon the path
will remain in the filth.
God wants to test the daring
and the kind in his lavoir:
and those will watch their houses!
And they will find a strong opponent
because of which, to their shame, I drive them away.

In Spain, here, the Marquess
and those of Solomon's Temple
suffer the burden
and the joke of the pagans' pride,
so that Youth receives bad praise
and the blame, because of this lavoir,
falls upon the most powerful lords,
broken, failing, empty of prowess,
who like neither joy nor disport.

The French are degenerates
if they refuse to support God,
for I have exhorted them.
Antioch and, on this side, Guiana
and Poitou cry for Virtue and Valour.
God, lord, in your lavoir,
give peace to the soul of the count:
and, here, may the lord who rose from the grave
guard Poitiers and Niort!

YANKEE DOODLE

Find an instrumental version here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_VDqRKukT_M

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♫ Please note: This is the very last song of the Derek Warfield album about the American Revolutionary War. I hope you have enjoyed this series. If you have any wants or suggestions on a new series just write a comment below this video.

Best regards and keep listening.
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Yankee Doodle is a well-known British-American song, the early versions of which date back to before the Seven Years' War and the American Revolution (1775 – 1783). It is often sung patriotically in the United States today and is the state anthem of Connecticut. The melody is thought to be much older than both the lyrics and the subject, even going back to folk songs of Medieval Europe an is well known across western Europe, including England, France, Holland (modern Netherlands), Hungary, and Spain. The earliest words of Yankee Doodle came from a Middle Dutch harvest song, possibly dating back as far as 15th-century. In British conversation, the term "Yankee Doodle Dandy" implied unsophisticated misappropriation of high-class fashion, as though simply sticking a feather in one's cap would make one to be noble.
Originally, it was a mocking tune by British officers to taunt the (in their eyes) undisciplined and disorganized "Yankees" with whom they fought together in the French and Indian wars. Already in the American Revolutionary War, the residents of the United States took the song and gave him a positive, patriotic rating. In the Civil War, the song became a popular marching tune of the northern states.

English lyrics:
Yankee Doodle keep it up,
Yankee Doodle dandy,
Mind the music and the step,
And with the girls be handy.
Fath'r and I went down to camp,
Along with Captain Gooding,
And there we saw the men and boys
As thick as hasty pudding.
Yankee Doodle keep it up,
Yankee Doodle dandy,
Mind the music and the step,
And with the girls be handy.
And there we saw a thousand men
As rich as Squire David,
And what they wasted every day,
I wish it could be saved.
Yankee Doodle keep it up,
Yankee Doodle dandy,
Mind the music and the step,
And with the girls be handy.
The 'lasses they eat it every day,
Would keep a house a winter;
They have so much, that I'll be bound,
They eat it when they've mind ter.
Yankee Doodle keep it up,
Yankee Doodle dandy,
Mind the music and the step,
And with the girls be handy.
And there I see a swamping gun
Large as a log of maple,
Upon a deuced little cart,
A load for father's cattle.
Yankee Doodle keep it up,
Yankee Doodle dandy,
Mind the music and the step,
And with the girls be handy.
And every time they shoot it off,
It takes a horn of powder,
and makes a noise like father's gun,
Only a nation louder.
Yankee Doodle keep it up,
Yankee Doodle dandy,
Mind the music and the step,
And with the girls be handy.
I went as nigh to one myself
As 'Siah's inderpinning;
And father went as nigh again,
I thought the deuce was in him.
Yankee Doodle keep it up,
Yankee Doodle dandy,
Mind the music and the step,
And with the girls be handy.
Cousin Simon grew so bold,
I thought he would have cocked it;
It scared me so I shrinked it off
And hung by father's pocket.
Yankee Doodle keep it up,
Yankee Doodle dandy,
Mind the music and the step,
And with the girls be handy.
And Cap'n Davis had a gun,
He kind of clapt his hand on't
And stuck a crooked stabbing iron
Upon the little end on't
Yankee Doodle keep it up,
Yankee Doodle dandy,
Mind the music and the step,
And with the girls be handy.
And there I see a pumpkin shell
As big as mother's bason,
And every time they touched it off
They scampered like the nation.
Yankee Doodle keep it up,
Yankee Doodle dandy,
Mind the music and the step,
And with the girls be handy.
I see a little barrel too,
The heads were made of leather;
They knocked on it with little clubs
And called the folks together.
Yankee Doodle keep it up,
Yankee Doodle dandy,
Mind the music and the step,
And with the girls be handy.
And there was Cap'n Washington,
And gentle folks about him;
They say he's grown so 'tarnal proud
He will not ride without em'.
Yankee Doodle keep it up,
Yankee Doodle dandy,
Mind the music and the step,
And with the girls be handy.
He got him on his meeting clothes,
Upon a slapping stallion;
He sat the world along in rows,
In hundreds and in millions.

THE ROAD TO BERLIN - Doroga na Berlin (Дорога на Берлин)

♫ As tomorrow marks the 73rd anniversary of the end of World War II in Europe, I think this song might be right at this day.
▬▬
This is the last song of the Soviet Songs of World War II series. I hope you liked this one and you will appreciate the upcoming series about Medieval Songs.
Best regards and keep listening.
▬▬
Written by Leonid Utesov in 1945.

English translation:

With the battle we took the
Eagle, the city all over,
And last street name read,
And the name is right, the word combat:
Bryansk street of the city is -
So we go the road, so we go the road,
Bryansk street leads us to the west.
With the battle we took Bryansk city all over,
And last street name read,
And the name is right, the word combat:
Minsk street in the city is -
So we go the road, so we go the road,
Minsk street leads us to the west.
With the battle took the city of Minsk, city all over,
And last street name read,
And the name is right, the word combat:
Brest street of the city is -
So we go the road, so we go the road,
Brest street leads us to the west.
With the battle took the city of Brest, the city all over,
And last street name read,
And the name is right, the word combat:
Lublin street in the city is -
So we go the road, so we go the road,
Lublin street leads us to the west.
With the battle took the city of Lublin, all city passed
And last street name read,
And the name is right, the word combat:
Warsaw street in the city is -
So we go the road, so we go the road,
Warsaw street leads us to the west.
With the battle we took Warsaw, the city all over,
And last street name read,
And the name is right, the word combat:
Berlin street in the city is coming!
So we go the road, then the road to us!

BRAVELY WE WILL FIGHT - Smelo my v boj pojdem (Смело мы в бой пойдем)

This song is a stereotypical example of a Soviet propaganda song. It contains all terms of the regime and relates to the Civil War and the Red Army fighting the White Armys. It was written short after the Russian Civil War by Maximilian Osseyevich Steinberg.

Russian lyrics:

Слушай, рабочий, война началася,
Бросай своё дело, в поход собирайся.

Смело мы в бой пойдём за власть Советов
И как один умрём в борьбе за это.

Рвутся снаряды, трещат пулемёты,
Но их не боятся красные роты.

Смело мы в бой пойдём за власть Советов
И как один умрём в борьбе за это.

Вот показались белые цепи,
С ними мы будем биться до смерти.

Смело мы в бой пойдём за власть Советов
И как один умрём в борьбе за это.

Вечная память павшим героям,
Вечная слава тем, кто живёт!

Смело мы в бой пойдём за власть Советов
И как один умрём в борьбе за это.

Transliteration:

Slushaj, rabochij, vojna nachalasia,
Brosaj svoio delo, v pokhod sobirajsia.

Smelo my v boj pojdiom za vlast Sovetov
I kak odin umriom v borbe za ehto.

Rvutsia snariady, treshchat pulemioty,
No ikh ne boiatsia krasnye roty.

Smelo my v boj pojdiom za vlast Sovetov
I kak odin umriom v borbe za ehto.

Vot pokazalis belye tsepi,
S nimi my budem bitsia do smerti.

Smelo my v boj pojdiom za vlast Sovetov
I kak odin umriom v borbe za ehto.

Vechnaia pamiat pavshim geroiam,
Vechnaia slava tem, kto zhiviot!

Smelo my v boj pojdiom za vlast Sovetov
I kak odin umriom v borbe za ehto.

English translation:

Hear, worker, the war began,
Quit your job, get ready for march.

We shall bravely go to the battle for Soviet power
And we all to the last man shall die fighting for this.

The grenades are bursting, the machine-guns are rattling
But red companies don't fear it.

We shall bravely go to the battle for Soviet power
And we all to the last man shall die fighting for this.

Now the lines of Whites appear,
We shall fight them until death.

We shall bravely go to the battle for Soviet power
And we all to the last man shall die fighting for this.

Let the memory of fallen heroes live forever,
Eternal glory for those who live!

We shall bravely go to the battle for Soviet power
And we all to the last man shall die fighting for this.

SINIJ PLATOCHEK - Синий платочек - Blue handkerchief / scarf

The music of this song was written by E. Peterburgsky and the lyrics were written by I. Galitsky and M. Maximov in 1940. The song tells of a romance between a sviet soldier and a girl.
This version was performed by Klavdija Ivanovna Shulzhenko

Russian lyrics:

Помню, как в памятный вечер
Падал платочек твой с плеч,
Как провожала и обещала
Синий платочек сберечь.

И пусть со мной
Нет сегодня любимой, родной,
Знаю, с любовью ты к изголовью
Прячешь платок голубой.

Письма твои получая,
Слышу я голос живой.
И между строчек синий платочек
Снова встает предо мной.

И часто в бой
Провожает меня облик твой,
Чувствую, рядом с любящим взглядом
Ты постоянно со мной.

Сколько заветных платочков
Носим в шинелях с собой!
Нежные речи, девичьи плечи
Помним в страде боевой.

За них, родных,
Желанных, любимых таких,
Строчит пулеметчик за синий платочек,
Что был на плечах дорогих.

Transliteration:

Pomniu, kak v pamiatnyj vecher
Padal platochek tvoj s plech,
Kak provozhala i obeshchala
Sinij platochek sberech.

I pust so mnoj
Net segodnia liubimoj, rodnoj,
Znaiu, s liuboviu ty k izgoloviu
Priachesh platok goluboj.

Pisma tvoi poluchaia,
Slyshu ia golos zhivoj.
I mezhdu strochek sinij platochek
Snova vstaet predo mnoj.

I chasto v boj
Provozhaet menia oblik tvoj,
Chuvstvuiu, riadom s liubiashchim vzgliadom
Ty postoianno so mnoj.

Skolko zavetnykh platochkov
Nosim v shineliakh s soboj!
Nezhnye rechi, devichi plechi
Pomnim v strade boevoj.

Za nikh, rodnykh,
Zhelannykh, liubimykh takikh,
Strochit pulemetchik za sinij platochek,
Chto byl na plechakh dorogikh.

SMUGLJANKA

Smugljanka (Смуглянка from смуглый meaning "dark") also referred as Смуглянка-Молдаванка Smugljanka-Moldovanka "the dark Moldovan girl" (dark is the colour of the hair) is a Russian song written in 1940 by Yakov Shvedov (lyrics) and Anatoliy Grigorevich Novikov (tune).
It was written in honour of Grigory Kotovsky, leader of two Moldovan rebellions in Bessarabia Governorate against the Russian Empire in 1905 and 1915. It is written in the style of a traditional Moldovan folk song.

The song was also intended to glorify the female partisans of the Russian Civil War. The lyrics tell how the singer met a pretty girl gathering grapes and tried to seduce her, but how the girl turns out to be a partisan, and convinces him to join the partisans as well.

A very romantic scenario I suppose.

In 1940, songs composed for the troops on the front were supposed to be about revenge and victory. By 1942 however, fashions had changed, and songs with more romantic or lyrical themes were accepted by the military, so Novikov decided to re-release a revised version of the song. But it was banned for two years, and its first performance came in 1944. It was an immediate success. It was now taken as a reference to the then-contemporary Soviet partisans of the Great Patriotic War (World War II).

Russian lyrics:

Как-то летом на рассвете
Заглянул в соседний сад,
Там смуглянка-молдаванка
Собирает виноград.

Я краснею, я бледнею,
Захотелось вдруг сказать:
"Станем над рекою
Зорьки летние встречать!"

ПРИПЕВ:
Раскудрявый клён зелёный, лист резной,
Здесь у клёна мы расстанемся с тобой.
Клён зелёный, да клён кудрявый,
Да раскудярвый, резной!

А смуглянка-молдаванка
Отвечала парню в лад:
"Партизанский молдаванский
Собираем мы отряд.

Нынче рано партизаны
Дом покинули родной.
Ждёт тебя дорога
К партизанам в лес густой"

Раскудрявый клён зелёный, лист резной,
Здесь у клёна мы расстанемся с тобой.
Клён зелёный, да клён кудрявый,
Да раскудярвый, резной!

И смуглянка-молдаванка
По тропинке в лес ушла.
В том обиду я увидел
Что с собой не позвала.

О смуглянке-молдаванке
Часто думал по ночам.
Вдруг свою смуглянку
Я в отряде повстречал!

Раскудрявый клён зелёный, лист резной,
Здесь у клёна мы расстанемся с тобой.
Клён зелёный, да клён кудрявый,
Да раскудярвый, резной!

Раскудрявый клён зелёный, лист резной,
Здесь у клёна мы расстанемся с тобой.
Клён зелёный, да клён кудрявый,
Да раскудярвый, резной!

Translated:

One fine morning, just at daybreak,
I looked o'er my neighbour's wall.
Saw a maiden with her burden,
Dark eyes and a scarlet shawl.
My blood rushed, I blushed with passion,
Suddenly the words burst out:
– Let us go together
To a place I know about!

Tender, yearning, curling round our ardent joy
Fronds entwining, you're my girl and I'm your boy.
Leaves of maple and boughs of apple
That none can ever destroy.

But the dark-eyed tender maiden
Sharply then to me replied:
"Partisans for truth and freedom
Call on you to choose a side.
On this morn, the clans are gath’ring;
Burnt out from their buts and bens.
Fiery cross is calling
Through the forests and the glens."

Tender, yearning, curled round our ardent joy.
In the forest, I’m no girl and you’re no boy.
Leaves of maple and boughs of apple,
That none can ever destroy.

Then I watched my dark-eyed maiden
Walk into the woods alone.
But her leaving caused my grieving
And my heart it turned to stone.
Often late at night I wandered
In the forest, through the glen –
Then I spied my maiden
With her band of merry men!

Tender, yearning, curling round our ardent joy
Welcome comrade, you’re a man now, not a boy!
Leaves of maple and boughs of apple,
That none can ever destroy.

Tender, yearning, yes, curling round our ardent joy.
Welcome comrade, you’re a man now, not a boy!
Leaves of maple and boughs of apple,
That none can ever destroy.

March of the Soviet Tankmen (Марш советских танкистов) is a military march composed in 1939 by the Pokrass brothers with lyrics written by Laskin. It was commonly used as a Soviet propaganda song in World War II. The release of the song was in the soviet propaganda movie Tractorists in 1939. I guess you wouldn´t have sung it as a Soviet Tanker sitting in a T-34 facing a Tiger I on the Eastern Front in 1943 though.

Russian lyrics:
Броня крепка, и танки наши быстры,
и наши люди мужества полны!
В строю стоят советские танкисты,
своей великой Родины сыны!

Гремя огнём, сверкая блеском стали,
пойдут машины в яростный поход!
Когда нас в бой пошлёт товарищ Сталин,
и первый маршал в бой нас поведёт!

Заводов труд, и труд колхозных пашен
мы защитим, страну свою храня!
Ударной силой орудийных башен
и быстротой, и натиском огня!

Гремя огнём, сверкая блеском стали,
пойдут машины в яростный поход!
Когда нас в бой пошлёт товарищ Сталин,
и первый маршал в бой нас поведёт!

Пусть помнит враг, укрывшийся в засаде:
мы начеку, мы за врагом следим!
Чужой земли мы не хотим ни пяди,
но и своей вершка не отдадим!

Гремя огнём, сверкая блеском стали,
пойдут машины в яростный поход!
Когда нас в бой пошлёт товарищ Сталин,
и первый маршал в бой нас поведёт!

А если к нам полезет враг матёрый,
он будет бит повсюду и везде!
Тогда нажмут водители стартёры,
и по лесам, по сопкам, по воде!

Гремя огнём, сверкая блеском стали,
пойдут машины в яростный поход!
Когда нас в бой пошлёт товарищ Сталин,
и первый маршал в бой нас поведёт!

Bronya krepka, i tanki nashi bystry,
i nashi lyudi muzhestva polny!
V stroyu stoyat, Sovetskiye tankisty,
svoyey velikoy Rodiny syny!

Gremya ognyom, sverkaya bleskom stali,
poydut mashiny v yarostniy pokhod!
Kogda nas v boy poshlyot tovarishch Stalin,
i perviy marshal v boy nas povedyot!

Zavodov trud, i trud kolkhoznykh pashen,
my zashchitim, stranu svoyu khranya!
Udarnoy siloy, orudiynykh bashen,
i bystrotoy, i natiskom ognya!

Gremya ognyom, sverkaya bleskom stali,
poydut mashiny v yarostniy pokhod!
Kogda nas v boy poshlyot tovarishch Stalin,
i perviy marshal v boy nas povedyot!

Pust' pomnit vrag, ukryvshiysya v zasade:
my nacheku, my za vragom sledim!
Chuzhoy zemli, my ne khotim ni pyadi,
no i svoyey, vershka ne otdadim!

Gremya ognyom, sverkaya bleskom stali,
poydut mashiny v yarostniy pokhod!
Kogda nas v boy poshlyot tovarishch Stalin,
i perviy marshal v boy nas povedyot!

A yesli k nam, polezet vrag matyoriy,
on budet bit, povsyudu i bezde!
Togda nazhmut, voditeli startyory,
i po lesam, po sopkam, po bode!

Gremya ognyom, sverkaya bleskom stali,
poydut mashiny v yarostniy pokhod!
Kogda nas v boy poshlyot tovarishch Stalin,
i perviy marshal v boy nas povedyot!

English:
The armour is hard and our tanks are fast,
And our men are full of courage!
The Soviet tankmen are ready for action,
Sons of their Great Motherland!

Thundering with fire, glinting with steel,
The tanks will begin a harsh campaign!
When we're called to battle by Comrade Stalin,
And the First Marshal will lead us in this battle!

In keeping our country, we guard,
The work of factories and farms!
By power of our gun turrets,
By our fastness and pressure of fire!

Thundering with fire, glinting with steel,
The tanks will begin a harsh campaign!
When we're called to battle by Comrade Stalin,
And the First Marshal will lead us in this battle!

Let's enemy, who hidden in ambush, remember:
We watch for him, we are on guard!
We want not a foot of foreign land,
But we will not give up an inch of our own land!

Thundering with fire, glinting with steel,
The tanks will begin a harsh campaign!
When we're called to battle by Comrade Stalin,
And the First Marshal will lead us in this battle!

But if the enemy attacks us,
We will beat him everywhere!
Tankdrivers will start engines,
And drive by forests, mountains and even on water!

Thundering with fire, glinting with steel,
The tanks will begin a harsh campaign!
When we're called to battle by Comrade Stalin,
And the First Marshal will lead us in this battle!

Марш защитников Москвы (Marsh zashchitnikov Moskvy) / March of the defenders of Moscow

(You can find a instrumental version here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Lb_1GtmQZ20)
This march was introduced in the hardest times of the USSR in 1941, when fashists were at the gates of Moscow. Lyrics written by A. Surkov and the music composed by B. Mokrousov in 1941.

Lyrics:

В атаку стальными рядами
V ataku stalnymi riadami
Мы поступью твердой идем.
My postupiu tverdoj idem.
Родная столица за нами,
Rodnaia stolitsa za nami,
Рубеж наш назначен Вождем
Rubezh nash naznachen Vozhdem

Припев / Pripev:

Мы не дрогнем в бою за столицу свою,
My ne drognem v boiu za stolitsu svoiu,
Нам родная Москва дорога.
Nam rodnaia Moskva doroga.
Нерушимой стеной, обороной стальной
Nerushimoj stenoj, oboronoj stalnoj
Разгромим, уничтожим врага.
Razgromim, unichtozhim vraga.

На марше равняются взводы
Na marshe ravniaiutsia vzvody
Гудит под ногами земля,
Gudit pod nogami zemlia,
За нами - родные заводы
Za nami - rodnye zavody
И красные звезды Кремля.
I krasnye zvezdy Kremlia.

Припев

Для счастья своими руками
Dlia schastia svoimi rukami
Мы строили город родной.
My stroili gorod rodnoj.
За каждый расколотый камень
Za kazhdyj raskolotyj kamen
Отплатим мы страшной ценой.
Otplatim my strashnoj tsenoj.

Припев

Не счесть богатырскую силу,
Ne schest bogatyrskuiu silu,
Могуч наш отпор огневой.
Moguch nash otpor ognevoj.
Загоним фашистов в могилу
Zagonim fashistov v mogilu
В туманных боях под Москвой.
V tumannykh boiakh pod Moskvoj.

Припев

English translation:

To the attack in steel ranks
We are going with a firm pace
(Our) beloved (birthplace) capital city behind us,
The border (line) has been established by our guide (leader)

Refrain:
We shall not recoil in the battle for our capital city
Our birthplace and dear Moscow
Like an undestructible wall, a steel bulwark (defence)
We will shoot and destroy the ennemy.
Our leaders are forming a frontline (marching in front)
The ground (earth) shakes under our footsteps,
Behind us are our dear factories
And the Kremlin's red stars.

Refrain

For happiness, with our hands
We built our birthplace city
For every (building or paving) stone broken
They shall pay a horrible price.

Refrain

It is impossible to crush this heroes' force
Our fire is powerful
We have dug the grave for the fascists
In the misty plains around Moscow

Refrain

WHEN THE BATTLE IS OVER

When the Battle is Over is a suitable title for a retreat march as these were played for soldiers when returning to their barracks or camp at the end of the day.
It is a late 19th century composition by Pipe Major William Robb, of the Argyll and Sutherland Highlanders, the tune entered piping repertoire between the Boer and First World Wars.
This march bears a strong resemblance to the melody "The Last Rose of Summer" of Thomas Moore (1779 – 1852) an Irish poet, singer, songwriter, and entertainer, now also remembered for the lyrics of The Minstrel Boy. He is considered Ireland’s National Bard and is to Ireland what Robert Burns is to Scotland. The lyrics by Andy Stewart were written in 1961.

Lyrics:

When the Battle’s Over
I returned to the fields of glory,
Where the green grasses and flowers grow.
And the wind softly tells the story,
Of the brave lads of long ago.

March no more my soldier laddie,
There is peace where there once was war.
Sleep in peace my soldier laddie,
Sleep in peace, now the battle’s over.

In the great glen they lay a sleeping,
Where the cool waters gently flow.
And the gray mist is sadly weeping,
For those brave lads of long ago.

March no more my soldier laddie,
There is peace where there once was war.
Sleep in peace my soldier laddie,
Sleep in peace, now the battle’s over.

See the tall grass is there awaiting,
As their banners of long ago.
With their heads high forward threading,
Stepping lightly to meet the foe.

March no more my soldier laddie,
There is peace where there once was war.
Sleep in peace my soldier laddie,
Sleep in peace, now the battle’s over.

Some return from the fields of glory,
To their loved ones who held them dear.
But some fell in that hour of glory,
And were left to their resting here.

March no more my soldier laddie,
There is peace where there once was war.
Sleep in peace my soldier laddie,
Sleep in peace, now the battle’s over.

GUNNERS MARCH
(You can find an other version of this song here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r46G_3Wd_Fk)

Gunners (Artilleristy) written in 1942 during the „Sacred War“. After Stalin's death the lyrics were changed. This verion was performed by an arrangement of the Smonly Cathedral Chamber Choir under direction of Y. Poteenko in 2012.

Lyrics:
Горит в сердцах у нас любовь к земле родимой,
Идем мы в смертный бой за честь родной страны.
Пылают города, охваченные дымом,
Гремит в седых лесах суровый бог войны.

Артиллеристы, Сталин дал приказ!
Артиллеристы, зовёт Отчизна нас!
Из сотен тысяч батарей За слезы наших матерей,
За нашу Родину — огонь! Огонь!

Узнай, родная мать, узнай жена-подруга,
Узнай, далекий дом и вся моя семья,
Что бьет и жжет врага стальная наша вьюга,
Что волю мы несем в родимые края!

Артиллеристы, Сталин дал приказ!
Артиллеристы, зовёт Отчизна нас!
Из сотен тысяч батарей За слезы наших матерей,
За нашу Родину — огонь! Огонь!

Пробьет победы час, придет конец походам.
Но прежде чем уйти к домам своим родным,
В честь нашего Вождя, в честь нашего народа
Мы радостный салют в победный час дадим!

Артиллеристы, Сталин дал приказ!
Артиллеристы, зовёт Отчизна нас!
Из сотен тысяч батарей За слезы наших матерей,
За нашу Родину — огонь! Огонь!

Gorit v serdtsakh u nas lyubov' k zemle rodimoy,
My v smertnyy boy idem za chest' rodnoy strany.
Pylayut goroda, okhvachennyye dymom,
Gremit v sedykh lesakh surovyy bog voyny.

Artilleristy, Stalin dal prikaz!
Artilleristy, zovet Otchizna nas!
Iz mnogikh tysyach batarey
Za slezy nashikh materey,
Za nashu Rodinu - ogon'! Ogon'!

Uznay, rodnaya mat', uznay zhena-podruga,
Uznay, dalekiy dom i vsya moya sem'ya,
Chto b'yet i zhzhet vraga stal'naya nasha v'yuga,
Chto volyu my nesem v rodimyye kraya!

Artilleristy, Stalin dal prikaz!
Artilleristy, zovet Otchizna nas!
Iz mnogikh tysyach batarey
Za slezy nashikh materey,
Za nashu Rodinu - ogon'! Ogon'!

Prob'yet pobedy chas, pridet konets pokhodam.
No prezhde chem uyti k domam svoim rodnym,
V chest' nashego Vozhdya, v chest' nashego naroda
My radostnyy salyut v pobednyy chas dadim!

Artilleristy, Stalin dal prikaz!
Artilleristy, zovet Otchizna nas!
Iz mnogikh tysyach batarey
Za slezy nashikh materey,
Za nashu Rodinu - ogon'! Ogon'!

GUNNERS
(You can find an other version of this song here: https://youtu.be/jCbvY4VQWG8)

Gunners (Artilleristy) written in 1942 during the „Sacred War“. Perfomed by the Bolshoi Choir & Orchestra. After Stalin's death the lyrics were changed.

Lyrics:
Горит в сердцах у нас любовь к земле родимой,
Идем мы в смертный бой за честь родной страны.
Пылают города, охваченные дымом,
Гремит в седых лесах суровый бог войны.

Артиллеристы, Сталин дал приказ!
Артиллеристы, зовёт Отчизна нас!
Из сотен тысяч батарей За слезы наших матерей,
За нашу Родину — огонь! Огонь!

Узнай, родная мать, узнай жена-подруга,
Узнай, далекий дом и вся моя семья,
Что бьет и жжет врага стальная наша вьюга,
Что волю мы несем в родимые края!

Артиллеристы, Сталин дал приказ!
Артиллеристы, зовёт Отчизна нас!
Из сотен тысяч батарей За слезы наших матерей,
За нашу Родину — огонь! Огонь!

Пробьет победы час, придет конец походам.
Но прежде чем уйти к домам своим родным,
В честь нашего Вождя, в честь нашего народа
Мы радостный салют в победный час дадим!

Артиллеристы, Сталин дал приказ!
Артиллеристы, зовёт Отчизна нас!
Из сотен тысяч батарей За слезы наших матерей,
За нашу Родину — огонь! Огонь!

Gorit v serdtsakh u nas lyubov' k zemle rodimoy,
My v smertnyy boy idem za chest' rodnoy strany.
Pylayut goroda, okhvachennyye dymom,
Gremit v sedykh lesakh surovyy bog voyny.

Artilleristy, Stalin dal prikaz!
Artilleristy, zovet Otchizna nas!
Iz mnogikh tysyach batarey
Za slezy nashikh materey,
Za nashu Rodinu - ogon'! Ogon'!

Uznay, rodnaya mat', uznay zhena-podruga,
Uznay, dalekiy dom i vsya moya sem'ya,
Chto b'yet i zhzhet vraga stal'naya nasha v'yuga,
Chto volyu my nesem v rodimyye kraya!

Artilleristy, Stalin dal prikaz!
Artilleristy, zovet Otchizna nas!
Iz mnogikh tysyach batarey
Za slezy nashikh materey,
Za nashu Rodinu - ogon'! Ogon'!

Prob'yet pobedy chas, pridet konets pokhodam.
No prezhde chem uyti k domam svoim rodnym,
V chest' nashego Vozhdya, v chest' nashego naroda
My radostnyy salyut v pobednyy chas dadim!

Artilleristy, Stalin dal prikaz!
Artilleristy, zovet Otchizna nas!
Iz mnogikh tysyach batarey
Za slezy nashikh materey,
Za nashu Rodinu - ogon'! Ogon'!

AMAZING GRACE
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First song of the short series about Scotish bagpipe music: Stay tuned and don´t miss any video by subcribing and turning on notifications.
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Amazing Grace is probably the most beloved hymn of the last two centuries and it´s just amazing to hear it played on scotish bagpipes.
Some kind of ironically, this stirring song, closely associated with the African-American community, was written by a former slave trader, John Newton. The story behind the song reveals a more complex and ambiguous history.
Newton was born in 1725 in London to a Puritan mother who died two weeks before his seventh birthday, and a stern sea-captain father who took him to sea at age 11. After many voyages and a reckless youth of drinking, Newton was impressed into the British navy. After attempting to desert, he received eight dozen lashes and was reduced to the rank of common seaman.
While later serving on the Pegasus, a slave ship, Newton did not get along with the crew who left him in West Africa with Amos Clowe, a slave trader. Clowe gave Newton to his wife Princess Peye, an African royal who treated him vilely as she did her other slaves. During the voyage home, the ship was caught in a horrendous storm off the coast of Ireland and almost sank. Newton prayed to God and the cargo miraculously shifted to fill a hole in the ship’s hull and the vessel drifted to safety. Newton took this as a sign from the Almighty and marked it as his conversion to Christianity. He did not radically change his ways at once, his total reformation was more gradual. "I cannot consider myself to have been a believer in the full sense of the word, until a considerable time afterwards,” he later wrote. He did begin reading the Bible at this point and began to view his captives with a more sympathetic view.
Newton continued to sell his fellow human beings, making three voyages as the captain of two different slave vessels, The Duke of Argyle and the African. He suffered a stroke in 1754 and retired, but continued to invest in the business. In 1764, he was ordained as an Anglican priest and wrote 280 hymns to accompany his services. He wrote the words for “Amazing Grace” in 1772 (In 1835, William Walker put the words to the popular tune “New Britain”)
It was not until 1788, 34 years after leaving it that he renounced his former slaving profession by publishing a blazing pamphlet called “Thoughts Upon the Slave Trade.” The tract described the horrific conditions on slave ships and Newton apologized for making a public statement so many years after participating in the trade: “It will always be a subject of humiliating reflection to me, that I was once an active instrument in a business at which my heart now shudders.” The pamphlet was so popular it was reprinted several times and sent to every member of Parliament. Under the leadership of MP William Wilberforce, the English civil government outlawed slavery in Great Britain in 1807 and Newton lived to see it, dying in December of that year.

This song tells the story of the New York Volunteer Regiments and especially of the 11th Infantry Regiment during The War of Independence and in the American Civil War.
The line „Tis my delight to march and fight like a New York Volunteer!“ makes me think of a little boy seeing the soldiers marching out of the town, maybe even his brother or his father being in the ranks.
From the live recorded album: David Kincaid and The Brandos perform songs of the Irish Volunteers! Live in Europe! February 2004.
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It´s the last song of this Album. In the next days I will start with a short series about Scotish music. Stay tuned and don´t miss any video by subcribing and turning on notifications.
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English lyrics:
'Twas in the days of seventy-six
When freemen young and old
All fought for Independence then
Each hero brave and bold!
'Twas then the noble Stars and Stripes
In triumph did appear
And defended by brave patriots
The Yankee Volunteers
'Tis my delight to march and fight
Like a New York Volunteer!

Now, there's our City Regiments
Just see what they have done:
The first to offer to the State
To go to Washington
To protect the Federal Capital
And the flag they love so dear!
And they've done their duty nobly,
Like New York Volunteers!
'Tis my delight to march and fight
Like a New York Volunteer!

The Rebels out in Maryland
They madly raved and swore,
They'd let none of our Union troops
Pass through Baltimore
But the Massachusetts Regiment
No traitors did they fear
But fought their way to Washington
Like Yankee Volunteers!
'Tis my delight to march and fight
Like a New York Volunteer!

THE SACRED WAR - Svyaschennaya Voyna

(You can find an instrumental version of this song here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cfxI6O7J3dk)

The Sacred War (Svyaschennaya Voyna) is both a Russian Folk Song and a patriotic march song. It was written in 1943 by Aleksandr Aleksandrov and was sung by the Alexandrov Ensemble, more popularly known today by the name of the Russian Red Army Choir. This song has serious and extreme patriotic overtones, to the point of making God Save The Queen look moderate in comparison. However, given the circumstances under which the song was sung and written, it's hardly surprising.

For a patriotic song, it does what it's supposed to do. The first stanza itself is very much uplifting and urgent; it calls for the Soviet people to stand and fight against the foreign aggressors. At that time, their enemies were the fascist Nazi Germans under the direction of Adolf Hitler. The term vstavai was used intentionally and repeated for effect; the word means Stand Up! or Arise! in Russian, and was well-placed at the beginning to give the Soviet people a sense of urgency to act against oppressors.

The chorus likens the wrath of the Russian people to an unstoppable wave, and most importantly it gives possession to the Soviet people not only towards their own country, but also the war. This is evinced in the lines ,"Idyot voyna narodnaya! Svyaschennaya Voyna!", which means "This is the people's war, A Sacred War!" To spread these concepts to a people at is crucial; citizens of a country must believe that their country belongs to them, and that they must also believe that they stand a chance of victory.

The last three stanzas reinforce the whole patriotic theme of the song. It assures the people that the oppressors shall be halted and thrown back (Dadim otpor dusitelyam! Vsech plamminech idey!), that the planes and airforce of the enemy will not so much as lay a finger to precious Soviet skies (Ni smeyut krilya chorniye, nad rodinoy letat!), that their soldiers and tanks will not gain any more ground (Polya ejo prostornoiye, ne smeet vraag toptat!), and that every single enemy that so chooses to try will pay for it with their lives (Gniloy fascisti nyecisti, zagonim pulyu lob!). It gives the people a reason to fight and a reason to believe in victory. In times of war, it is important that the people of a nation remind themselves that no matter what, victory will be the final outcome. To have victory, one must believe in it. That helps to make the fight bearable for all intents and purposes. Propaganda always finds it´s way.

After all, in the war they lost 20-25 million people and suffered the most destruction. Yet today, Russia is the 11th largest economy and the fastest growing economy in the world. The Sacred War is a monument and testament to the hard willpower of the Russian people.

Lyrics:
Вставай, страна огромная,
Вставай на смертный бой
С фашистской силой тёмною,
С проклятою ордой.

Припев: (2x)
Пусть ярость благородная
Вскипает, как волна!
Идёт война народная,
Священная война!

Дадим отпор душителям
Всех пламенных идей,
Насильникам, грабителям,
Мучителям людей!

Припев

Не смеют крылья чёрные
Над Родиной летать,
Поля её просторные
Не смеет враг топтать!

Припев

Гнилой фашистской нечисти
Загоним пулю в лоб,
Отребью человечества
Сколотим крепкий гроб!

Припев (2x)

Vstavay, strana ogromnaya
Vstavay na smertnyy boy!
S fashistskoy siloy tyomnoyu,
S proklyatoyu ordoy.

Pripev: (2x)
Pust’ yarost’ blagorodnaya
Vskipayet, kak volna!
Idyot voyna narodnaya,
Svyaschennaya voyna!

Dadim otpor dushitelyam
Vsekh plamennykh idey,
Nasil’nikam, grabitelyam,
Muchitelyam lyudey.

Pripev

Ne smeyut kryl’ya chornyye
Nad Rodinoy letat’,
Polya yeyo prostornyye
Ne smeyet vrag toptat’.

Pripev

Gniloy fashistskoy nechisti
Zagonim pulyu v lob,
Otreb’yu chelovechestva
Skolotim krepkiy grob!

Pripev (2x)

Arise, vast country,
Arise for a fight to the death
Against the dark fascist forces,
Against the cursed hordes.

Chorus: (2x)
Let noble wrath
Boil over like a wave!
This is the people's war,
a Sacred war!

We shall repulse the oppressors
Of all ardent ideas.
The rapists and the plunderers,
The torturers of people.

Chorus

The black wings shall not dare
Fly over the Motherland,
On her spacious fields
The enemy shall not dare tread!

Chorus

We shall drive a bullet into the forehead
Of the rotten fascist filth,
For the scum of humanity
We shall build a solid coffin!

Chorus (2x)

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Check out my friend who helped me with this video: @historicalwarfareinc ! Please check out his Instagram Page https://www.instagram.com/historicalwarfareinc/

DAVID KINCAID - PADDY´S LAMENTATION

I personally like this song very much on account of its honest expression. There are many ballads from this time dealing with emigration to America away from the hunger and deprivation of the famine that devastated Ireland in the 1840's. All of them extoll the praises of the 'Land of Liberty' where there was food and work for all and the 'tyrant landlords' did not exist. This is one of the few ballads that made its way back to Ireland telling a different story from the peace and prosperity which is talked about in other songs. The General Meagher referred to was General Thomas Francis Meagher otherwise known as 'Meagher of the sword' who led the 69th regiment in the American Civil War. The regiment so distinguished itself on the various battlefields that it earned the name of the 'Fighting 69th'. It was all but wiped out at the battle of Gettysburg, and its losses are commemorated by a Celtic cross on the actual battlefield.The title of the song is a corruption of an Irish phrase 'Bí i do thost' or 'be quiet' which in fact is translated in the first line of the song „By the hush me boys and that's to make no noise“. The song is a stinging comment on emigration that reflected many Irish emigrants experiences in America when they arrived as the Civil War 1861-65 was in progress and were conscripted into the Army.
From the live recorded album: David Kincaid and The Brandos perform songs of the Irish Volunteers! Live in Europe! February 2004.

English lyrics:
And it's by the hush, my boys,
I’m sure that's to hold your noise
And listen to poor Paddy's lamentation
I was by hunger pressed and by poverty distressed
When I took a thought I'd leave the Irish nation

So I sold my horse and plough, sold my sheep, and pigs, and sow The little farm of land and I were parted
And my sweetheart Bid McGee, I'm afeared I'll never see
For I left her on that morning quite broken-hearted

And here's you boys, do take my advice
To America I'll have you not be coming
For there’s nothing here but war, where the murdering cannons roar And I wish I was back home in dear old Ireland

So me and a hundred more, to America sailed o'er
Our fortunes to be making we were thinking
But when we landed in Yankee land, they stuck a musket in my hands Saying "Paddy, you must go and fight for Lincoln"
General Meagher to us said, if you get shot or you lose your head Every murdered soul of you will get a pension
But in the war I lost my leg, now all I’ve got’s a wooden peg,
Oh my boy’s it is the truth to you I mention

And here's you boys, do take my advice
To America I'll have you not be coming
For there’s nothing here but war, where the murdering cannons roar And I wish I was back home in dear old Ireland
Oh, there’s nothing here but war, where the murdering cannons roar And I wish I was back home in dear old Ireland

Now I’d have think myself in luck, to be fed with Indian buck
And in Ireland, the land that I delight in
But by the devil I do say, curse Americay
For I’m sure I've had enough of your hard fighting

And here's you boys, do take my advice
To America I'll have you not be coming
For there’s nothing here but war, where the murdering cannons roar And I wish I was back home in dear old Ireland