I ... shall meet you ... to-night, dear—
In my beautee ... ful dream ... land.
And your eyes will be bright, dear,
With ... the love light ... that shines for me.
The only place where the soldier could meet her, till there came one of those madly-coveted greedily-snatched moments of leave, when a man dashed, with the mud of the trenches still on him, straight to "Blighty."
There was a curious note of self-pity in many of the sentimental songs, and men gloated over the love of home. The love of mother became warmer in imagination (Lordy, lordy lordy, how I love her!); the tenderness of wife and sweetheart became desired in a way which could only be expressed in songs—and in letters, those most precious of all tokens of the war, the letters which men sent from the front to those who loved them. The little English soldier sang his very heart out asking his Lizzie to "keep the kettle boiling," asking anyone and everyone to
Keep the home fires burning
Till the boys come home!
Even so, he would not allow himself to get down-hearted or to remain for long in a sentimental mood. The humorous inventive vein came to his assistance. He did not possess ready-made chansonettes of the French type. The music-hall had not provided them, but he straightway began to invent them to satisfy the need. So sprang into being Mademoiselle from Armenteers which was reputed to have fifty thousand verses—anyone could invent a verse at any moment. So was born Roll on, my Three, that soldiers' litany and chorus, The one-eyed Riley, and many another burlesque. Then every well-known hymn and popular song had its war parody expressing the soldier's mind in lighter vein—— Some of the parodies of popular songs improved on the originals. Thus—
I wore a tunic, an old khaki tunic,
But you wore civilian clothes.
Whilst we were in the trenches
You were mashing all the wenches,
What a blessing no one knows!
We fought at Loos whilst you scoffed the booze.
on the basis of—
I wore a tulip, a bright yellow tulip,
But you wore a red red rose.
was extremely diverting, as was
I've lost my oil-bottle and pull-through,
I've lost my four by two.