Green Fields Of France

Eric Bogle

Well how do you do Private William McBride
Do you mind if I sit here down by your graveside
And rest for awhile beneath the warm summer sun
I’ve been walking all day and now I’m nearly done
I see by your gravestone you were only nineteen
When you joined the glorious fallen in 1916
Well I hope you died quick and I hope you died clean
Or, young Willie McBride, was it slow and obscene

Did they beat the drum slowly, did they 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 ‘ere a wife or a sweetheart behind
In some faithful heart is your memory enshrined
And although you died back in 1916
In that faithful heart are you forever nineteen
Or are you a stranger without even a name
Enclosed forever behind a glass pane
In an old photograph, torn, and battered and stained
And faded to yellow in a brown leather frame

Ah the sun now it shines on these green fields of France
The warm summer breeze makes the red poppies dance
And look how the sun shines from under the clouds
There’s no gas, no barbed wire, there’s no guns firing now
But here in this graveyard is still No Man’s Land
And countless white crosses in mute witness stand
To man’s blind indifference to his fellow man
To a whole generation that was butchered and damned

Ah young Willie McBride, I can’t help wonder why
Did all those who lay here really know why they died
And did they believe when thay answered the call
Did they really believe that this war would end wars
For the sorrow, the suffering, the glory, the pain
The killing and dying were all done in vain
For, young Willie McBride, it all happened again
And again and again and again and again

This song is also known as William McBride or No Man’s Land.