Best Military Song / Music / Hymn of all time?

P

Padre

Milforum Chaplain
With the "Naval Hymn" as a close second, surely the best Military song/music/hymn of all time is "A Scottish Soldier." Even cold hearted red-neck killers would shed a tear at hearing these.
What do you folks think? - what's you're fav. military music?
 
Well I'm a bit shy, but I'll give it a try..... I hope I get a few Milbucks out of this...Ok...it goes like this....

dah dah da da da
la la lah lah
'O la dah da da hmmm hmmm
do da dah dah dah dah la
hmmm hmmm hmmm
da da dahhhh dahhh dahhh
Ba da da da da dahhhh
Doo deee dah dah dah da
Tah ta da da da dah
fa fa fa la la

(there's a drum beat in the background)

Thank you Thank you
 
The Ballad of the Green Beret
By Staff Sergeant Barry Sadler and Robin Moore, Copyright 1966

Fighting soldiers from the sky 
Fearless men who jump and die 
Men who mean just what they say 
The brave men of the Green Beret 

Silver wings upon their chest 
These are men, America's best 
One hundred men will test today 
But only three win the Green Beret 

Trained to live off nature's land 
Trained in combat, hand-to-hand 
Men who fight by night and day 
Courage peak from the Green Berets 

Silver wings upon their chest 
These are men, America's best 
One hundred men will test today 
But only three win the Green Beret 

Back at home a young wife waits 
Her Green Beret has met his fate 
He has died for those oppressed 
Leaving her his last request 

Put silver wings on my son's chest 
Make him one of America's best 
He'll be a man they'll test one day
Have him win the Green Beret.
 
Padre said:
With the "Naval Hymn" as a close second, surely the best Military song/music/hymn of all time is "A Scottish Soldier." Even cold hearted red-neck killers would shed a tear at hearing these.
What do you folks think? - what's you're fav. military music?
Click to expand...
To hear "A Scottish Soldier" go here: http://www.contemplator.com/scotland/soldier.html

For the Navy Hymn go here and click on the appropriate links: http://www.usna.edu/USNABand/FAQ/Lyrics.htm#eternal
For Ironhorseredleg, shame on you, I would have thought you would pick The Black Horse Troop by John Philip Souza heard here: http://www.usafband.com/mp3/The Black Horse Troop.mp3
from this website: http://www.af.mil/band/marches.asp

My own favorite is the National Emblem March heard here: http://www2.acc.af.mil/music//ceremonial/tunes/04natemb.mp3
:salute2:
 
Blood Upon The Risers

http://www.west-point.org/users/usma1981/38405/west_point/songs/bloodontherisers.m3u

He was just a rookie trooper and he surely shook with fright.
He checked off his equipment and made sure his pack was tight.
He had to sit and listen to those awful engines roar.
You ain't gonna jump no more.

Gory, gory, what a hell of way to die.
Gory, gory, what a hell of way to die.
Gory, gory, what a hell of way to die.
He ain't gonna jump no more.

"Is everybody happy?" cried the sergeant looking up.
Our hero feebly answered, "Yes", and then they stood him up.
He jumped into the icy blast, his static line unhooked.
And he ain't gonna jump no more.

Gory, gory, what a hell of way to die.
Gory, gory, what a hell of way to die.
Gory, gory, what a hell of way to die.
He ain't gonna jump no more.

He counted long, he counted loud, he waited for the shock.
He felt the wind, he felt the cold, he felt the awful drop.
The silk from his reserve spilled out and wrapped around his legs.
And he ain't gonna jump no more.

Gory, gory, what a hell of way to die.
Gory, gory, what a hell of way to die.
Gory, gory, what a hell of way to die.
He ain't gonna jump no more.

The risers swung around his neck, connectors cracked his dome.
Suspension lines were tied in knots around his skinny bones.
The canopy became his shroud, he hurtled to the ground.
And he ain't gonna jump no more.

Gory, gory, what a hell of way to die.
Gory, gory, what a hell of way to die.
Gory, gory, what a hell of way to die.
He ain't gonna jump no more.

The days he lived and loved and laughed kept running through his mind.
He thought about the girl back home, the one he left behind.
He thought about the medicos and wondered what they'd find.
And he ain't gonna jump no more.

Gory, gory, what a hell of way to die.
Gory, gory, what a hell of way to die.
Gory, gory, what a hell of way to die.
He ain't gonna jump no more.

The ambulance was on the spot, the jeeps were running wild.
The medics jumped and screamed with glee, rolled up their sleeves and smiled.
For it had been a week or more since last a 'chute had failed.
And he ain't gonna jump no more.

Gory, gory, what a hell of way to die.
Gory, gory, what a hell of way to die.
Gory, gory, what a hell of way to die.
He ain't gonna jump no more.

He hit the ground, the sound was "Splat," his blood went spurting high.
His comrades they were heard to say, "A helluva way to die."
He lay there rolling 'round in the welter of his gore.
And he ain't gonna jump no more.

Gory, gory, what a hell of way to die.
Gory, gory, what a hell of way to die.
Gory, gory, what a hell of way to die.
He ain't gonna jump no more.

There was blood upon the risers, there were brains upon the 'chute.
Intestines were a-dangling from his paratrooper suit.
He was a mess, they picked him up and poured him from his boots.
And he ain't gonna jump no more.

Gory, gory, what a hell of way to die.
Gory, gory, what a hell of way to die.
Gory, gory, what a hell of way to die.
He ain't gonna jump no more.
 
��������������������I Was Only 19 (A Walk in the Light Green)
-- It's not a "military song" in any official term, but it is known by every Australian soldier, and it brings a tear to the eye



Mum and Dad and Denny saw the passing out parade at Puckapunyal,
(1t was long march from cadets).
The Sixth Battalion was the next to tour and it was me who drew the card…
We did Canungra and Shoalwater before we left.


And Townsville lined the footpath as we marched down to the quay;
This clipping from the paper shows us young and strong and clean;
And there's me in my slouch hat, with my SLR and greens…
God help me, I was only nineteen.


From Vung Tau riding Chinooks to the dust at Nui Dat,
I'd been in and out of choppers now for months.
But we made our tents a home, VB and pin-ups on the lockers,
and an Asian orange sunset through the scrub.

And can you tell me, doctor, why I still can't get to sleep?
And night time's just a jungle of dark and a barking M16?
And what's this rash that comes and goes, can you tell me what it means?
God help me, I was only nineteen.


A four week operation, when each step could mean your last one on two legs:
it was a war within yourself.
But you wouldn't let your mates down 'til they had you dusted off,
so you closed your eyes and thought about something else.


Then someone yelled out "Contact"', and the bloke behind me swore.
We hooked in there for hours, then a God almighty roar;
Frankie kicked a mine the day that mankind kicked the moon: -
God help me, he was going home in June.


1 can still see Frankie, drinking tinnies in the Grand Hotel
on a thirty-six hour rec. leave in Vung Tau.
And I can still hear Frankie lying screaming in the jungle.
'Till the morphine came and killed the bloody row


And the Anzac legends didn't mention mud and blood and tears,
and stories that my father told me never seemed quite real
I caught some pieces in my back that I didn't even feel…
God help me, I was only nineteen.


And can you tell me, doctor, why I still can't get to sleep?
And why the Channel Seven chopper chills me to my feet?
And what's this rash that comes and goes, can you tell me what it means?
God help me,
I was only nineteen.

----------------

Also by Redgum a good war song is Safe Behind The Wire.
A little less known, but good none the less

When the bodies were bagged and the telegrams sent
And the very last chopper had gone…
And you looked out the window of the 707 on the airfield in Saigon…
Some of us thought that the war was over, some of us couldn't care less;
But you came home and threw a stay-behind party to try to clear up the mess.


And I don't know where you are tonight,
I'm down here in a fire-fight…
But wherever you are, I hope you're safe behind the wire.


We were fighting for freedom in South East Asia - that's how the story ran…
Windy speeches about a domino falling from China into Vietnam.
But look back in sickness and anger,
Australia didn't honour her debt;
And non-commissioned Officer Thompson learned that the war wasn't over yet.


Living on your nerves, living on the phone
Sleeping in airports far from home…
Dusted off now and safe behind the wire.


Well, he gave and he gave and he kept on giving, till he just couldn't give anymore;
And he gave it away one morning in Sydney in a rust-red Commodore…
And I remember Phill best talking on the phone,
With a cheeky grin on his face
'Cause Royal Commissioners and Knights of the Realm
Thought that Phill didn't know his place.


And they're still bagging bodies, Phill, though fourteen years have gone;
And the mums and the dads and the wives and the kids still have to soldier on.

And also If The War Goes ON

t was one of those blue and white biscuit tins, with a picture of the Queen,
and she kept his ribbons they sent her back in 1943;
and a family photo on the beach, he was lifting up their son -
and a piece of yellow newsprint with the words:
"If the war goes on…"


It was a warm suburban morning, back in 1968 -
and a khaki-coloured car pulled up and parked across the gate;
MIA or KIA - another soldier gone…
and a generation lost in Asia….
If the war goes on


The Kokoda trail to the Long Hai hills, for every bullet fired,
the desperate drums of mankind are humming loudly on the wire
There's oil to drown the ocean, there are fires to drown the sun
How much longer, how much longer?
If the war goes on


They strapped my brother to an F18 and shot him into the night…
Sirens are screaming, run for cover, pull that mask on tight;
God's on our side, God's on their side, the Covenant's ripped and torn -
How much longer, how much longer?
If the war goes on…


She packed her little son a bag and strapped it to his back,
With some money and some food and a change of clothes,
In case she didn't make it back
And she pinned a note inside his coat, "this little boy's name is Tom …
He's only two, look after him - please…
If the war goes on…
 
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I was only 19, is an extremly good song. I'll have to get my hands on that other one you posted AussieNick.
 
"When the pipers play" is one of my favorites.

"The Ballad of the Green Berets" is another

But to me, the most touching by far are "Taps," and "The Last Post."
 
"And the band played Waltzing matilda"




Now when I was a young man I carried me pack
And I lived the free life of the rover.
From the Murray's green basin to the dusty outback,
Well, I waltzed my Matilda all over.
Then in 1915, my country said, "Son,
It's time you stop ramblin', there's work to be done."
So they gave me a tin hat, and they gave me a gun,
And they marched me away to the war.
And the band played "Waltzing Matilda,"
As the ship pulled away from the quay,
And amidst all the cheers, the flag waving, and tears,
We sailed off for Gallipoli.​
And how well I remember that terrible day,
How our blood stained the sand and the water;
And of how in that hell that they call Suvla Bay
We were butchered like lambs at the slaughter.
Johnny Turk, he was waitin', he primed himself well;
He showered us with bullets, and he rained us with shell --
And in five minutes flat, he'd blown us all to hell,
Nearly blew us right back to Australia.
But the band played "Waltzing Matilda,"
When we stopped to bury our slain,
Well, we buried ours, and the Turks buried theirs,
Then we started all over again.​
And those that were left, well, we tried to survive
In that mad world of blood, death and fire.
And for ten weary weeks I kept myself alive
Though around me the corpses piled higher.
Then a big Turkish shell knocked me arse over head,
And when I woke up in me hospital bed
And saw what it had done, well, I wished I was dead --
Never knew there was worse things than dying.
For I'll go no more "Waltzing Matilda,"
All around the green bush far and free --
To hump tents and pegs, a man needs both legs,
No more "Waltzing Matilda" for me.​
So they gathered the crippled, the wounded, the maimed,
And they shipped us back home to Australia.
The armless, the legless, the blind, the insane,
Those proud wounded heroes of Suvla.
And as our ship sailed into Circular Quay,
I looked at the place where me legs used to be,
And thanked Christ there was nobody waiting for me,
To grieve, to mourn and to pity.
But the band played "Waltzing Matilda,"
As they carried us down the gangway,
But nobody cheered, they just stood and stared,
Then they turned all their faces away.​
And so now every April, I sit on my porch
And I watch the parade pass before me.
And I see my old comrades, how proudly they march,
Reviving old dreams of past glory,
And the old men march slowly, all bones stiff and sore,
They're tired old heroes from a forgotten war
And the young people ask "What are they marching for?"
And I ask meself the same question.
But the band plays "Waltzing Matilda,"
And the old men still answer the call,
But as year follows year, more old men disappear
Someday, no one will march there at all. Waltzing Matilda, waltzing Matilda.
Who'll come a-waltzing Matilda with me?
And their ghosts may be heard as they march by the billabong,
Who'll come a-Waltzing Matilda with me?
​
 
Navy Hymn/Eternal Father for sure.

Eternal Father, strong to save
Whose arm hath bound the restless wave,
Who bidd'st the mighty ocean deep
Its own appointed limits keep,
O hear us when we cry to thee
For those in peril on the sea.
 
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