Thanks for adding the links to the DT Joe. The first "here" against the 51st farewell is as written. The second seems to be an Anglicised? Americanised? version.

The version of Bloody Orkney in the DT is as sung by Ian Campbell, with his last stanza. (It should read "roll on demob.." by the way Dick)

The original, taken from a book of war poetry whose title escapes me and I can't find at the moment, is:

Capt. Hamish bloody Blair
Doesnae live here any mair
And no one seems to Bloody care
In Bloody Orkney.

As the Kreigie Ballad doesn't appear to be in the DT I've added it below.

"The Kriegie ballad"

Robert Garioch
Tune: Botany Bay

Yes this is the place we were took Sir,
And landed right into the bag
Right outside the town of Tobruk, Sir,
So now for some bloody stalag.

ChorusWith a toora-lie, oora-lie addy,
With a toora-lie oora-lie ay,
With attora-lie oora-lie addy,
Here's hoping we're not here to stay!

There was plenty of water in Derna
But that camp was not very well kept
For either you slept in the piss-hole
Or pissed in the place where you slept

Chorus

And then we went on to Benghazi
We had plenty of room, what a treat!
But I wish that the guard was a Nazi
He might find us something to eat

Chorus

And then we went on to Brindisi,
With free melons in fields on the way
Parades there were quite free and easy
Except that they went on all day

Chorus

The sun it grew hotter and hotter
The shit trench was streaked red and brown
The stew was like maiden's water
With gnat's piss to wash it all down

Chorus

With hunger were nearly demented
You can see it at once by our looks
The only ones really contented
Are the greasy fat bastards of cooks

Chorus

And now it was late in the autumn
And our clothes they were only a farce
For torn KD shorts with no bottom,
Send a hell of a draught up your arse.

Chorus

At Musso's show camp at Vetrella,
They gave us beds, blankets and sheets,
They've even got chains in the shit house,
But still they had no bloody seats.

Chorus

We were promised a treat for our Christmas,
Of thick pasta-shoota, all hot,
But some how the cooks got a transfer,
And shot out of sight with the lot.

Chorus

So somewhere they wish us good wishes,
That we're not all feeling too queer,
And while they arte guzzling our pasta,
They wish us a Happy New Year.

Chorus

Pete M