"You're country needs you", so Lord Kitchener told 'em,
"To fight Kaiser Bill, the malevolent Prussian."
They raced to enlist from Southampton to Oldham,
From York to Penzance young men all came a rushin'.

But soon ended quite the Victorian ideal,
That an army career's much desired,
Not here noble duels with blades made of steel,
But gas, shells, machine-gunners' fire.

But after four years of this foul man-made hell,
Some came back, sans arm, leg or eye,
While many remained in the place where they fell,
Not knowing for what they had died.

But a "land fit for heroes" the government claimed,
Prosperity all will now share,
But soldiers demobbed, either healthy or maimed,
Found none, only want and despair.

The Lord Mayor of Luton was not short of praise
For troops, now that fighting had ceased,
And said "June nineteenth, nineteen nineteen's the day
We'll put on a fabulous feast."

He sent invitations to all of his cronies,
And gentry, to join in the fun,
But hunt as you might through the list of these phonies,
Of servicemen you'll find not one.

And thus irate squaddies invaded the junket,
And scared of this most motley crew,
The guests could do no more than get up and bunk it,
And leave just desserts where thy're due.

At this stage things started to get out of hand,
And while people stood round, amazed,
Inflammable liquid was sprinkled around,
And shortly the old town hall blazed.

The shops in the High Street nearby felt the heat
Of the passionate crowd now arrayed;
A piano from one found its way to the street,
And "Keep Home Fires Burning" was played.

more historical quirks.

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Wednesday, November 30, 2005 /body /html