The other day I came across some World War Two era song books in the bottom of my accordion case. They were published by what was then called the War Department and widely distributed by the USO to bases at home and abroad. The titles included patriotic songs, Christmas songs and carols, hymns for worship service, and a lot of just plain old fun songs. Beneath them was a book of church camp songs, published in the 1950s.
Music and singing have always been important to our men and women in uniform, dating back to the time of General Washington. Even our shortest war, the Spanish-American War of 1898, rated at least one song: “There’ll be a Hot Time in the Old Town Tonight.” For the Great War, as World War I was formerly called, there were countless songs, and again in World War Two. But after that, it seems like we began losing this old tradition of sing-alongs.
Many military songs became popular with civilians as well, and people sang as they went off to work, or even while they were working.
Meanwhile, there were also protest songs. The 1916 hit, prior to America’s entry into WWI, was I Didn’t Raise my Son to be a Soldier. The following April, when the US went to war, it was changed to I’m Proud to Raise my Son to Be a Soldier.
There were more protests during the Great Depression of the 1930s, such as Rudy Valee’s Brother Can You Spare a Dime? More recently, there were protest songs by individuals and groups during the Viet Nam War.
Most of those songs were one way people could shake their fist at danger and possible death, oppression, and those who were abusing their power. Some of them lifted the spirits of the weary, such as Spike Jones’ In Da Fuehrer’s Face, or Flanagan and Allen’s Run, Rabbit Run during the Blitz in the UK. They poked fun at the Bavarian corporal and his minions. Other protest songs by individuals and groups, put into words and music the feelings of many people. If you are of a certain age, perhaps you sang some of them, and still remember the lyrics.
Harriet Tubman, the famous Conductor on the Underground Railroad, wrote that her work was hard, often very dangerous, and daunting. Yet never, she said, did they quit singing. When she was criticized for singing, she explained it was necessary for the survival of the spirit. More than we may realize, she was right – group singing is necessary for our survival.
If you ever went to almost any summer camp, you will remember that group singing was a regular part of the daily agenda. Let your mind wander, and you may even recall some of the songs and lyrics. I’ll bet you remember nonsense songs like Bingo or all twelve verses of Green Grow the Rushes, Ho! Before long your mind will slide back to those summers, and perhaps you’ll remember the names, or at least the faces, of some of your fellow campers. Those songs built a sense of community, and now the words and songs take us back to our childhood.
For many years I took my accordion to retirement homes. When I started, many of the residents wanted songs from the 1890s, such as Bicycle Built for Two, the Bowery, and so on. After they passed away, the newer residents wanted old favorites from the First World War, and some wanted Tin Pan Alley songs from the 1920s. Those were fun, and what really put a smile on some faces came when the lyrics were, shall we be polite and say, “suggestive”? For some reason, some of the men seemed to know one verse after another of Mademoiselle from Armentieres. This is a family-friendly paper, so I cannot repeat them.
In time came new requests of songs I called, “The Hits of the Blitz.” By the time I put my accordion in its case for the last time, they wanted what one of them called, “new music” – the Beetles song, “Will you still love me when I’m 64.” Other times, they wanted Christmas carols from their childhood.
They sang, they tapped their feet or drummed their fingers on the table, they laughed. Sometimes, especially at the Royal Canadian Legion Hall in Cold Lake, Alberta, there were a lot of tears, as well when the old songs came to mind. Even so, for a few moments they forgot about the challenges they and their friends were facing. All the while, they were stitching together their new community of friendship and mutual support.
I am not suggesting that the one cure for the divisions and animosity in our country is to breakout the summer camp books and start singing together, but it just might help. We can see that in remote places in North America, Newfoundland in particular.
Life there is hard and often dangerous and sometimes residents are isolated because of distance or blizzards. There is still tremendous anger about Residents of the Rock being forced to join with Canada in 1949, and some of the separatists refer to their province as the Republic of Newfoundland. Outside of industrial strength drinking, there is not much to do during the winter except for one thing. In every little hamlet people get together for Kitchen Parties.
The word-of-mouth invitations are sent out, and everyone knows that everyone is welcome. The host or hostess prepares part of the meal; everyone brings a dish to pass. Musicians bring a concertina accordion or penny whistle, a fiddle, or Irish pipes. Usually there is a bottle or more often a quart Ball or Mason jar of “Newfie Screech” which is 100% alcohol. That’s when the party really gets going. People start singing, and after a while someone will get up to get something to eat while the others continue singing. People get up to dance together.
It goes on for a few hours until one of the Olds has decided the time has come to go home. He or she will stand up, go from person to person to sing a blessing and a few words of gratitude over them, as they go around the circle to connect with everyone. The party is over for another night, and they go home after spending hours with friends and neighbors.
If politics or some hot button topic came up, it’s usually forgotten by morning. Newfie Screech is good for that sort of thing. A cohesive community is far more important. It is based on singing. Friendships and neighbors are far more important, often based on singing together.
It seems to me that is exactly what we could use in our country – informal community singing where close four-part harmony is not nearly as important as smiles and laughter. Sadly, as with so many other things, especially since the Great Shutdown a few years ago, instead of singing and making our own music, and getting together with others, it has become far too easy to watch it on the internet.
We truly need the connection, the human touch, to keep together.
