Lyr Add: From the Shankill to the Somme

Subject: Lyr Add: From the Shankill to the Somme
From: Felipa
Date: 03 Jul 21 - 07:21 PM

SHANKILL TO THE SOMME


At the age of sixteen years, he left his home in tears,
His mother watched, as he walked out the door,
As his family bade farewell, his neighbours wished him well,
From the road his dad and brother took before.

And as the ship set sail for France, he gave Belfast one more glance,
As the ship began to move away from shore,
He could see there on the land, the proud YCV flute band,
And could hear them play "The Sash My Father Wore."

From the Shankill Road they went,
Their young lives, to be spent,
On the first day of July, so long Ago,
All the deeds that they have done,
And the glories they had won,
We remember as long as the bright red poppy's grow.

When they charged from Thiepval wood,
They were in a fighting mood,
As they forced their way, across the fields of fire,
As they stormed that great redoubt,
You could hear those Ulster shout,
As they lay dyin midst the shells and twisted wire

From the Shankill Road they went,
their young lives to be spent,
On the first day of July, so long Ago,
All the deeds that they had done,
And the glory they had won,
We remember as long as the bright red poppy's grow.

From the Shankill Road they went,
Their young lives, to be spent,
On the first day of July, so long Ago,
All the deeds that they have done,
And the glories they had won,
We remember as long as the bright red poppy's grow.

On the 9th day of July, you could hear a mothers cry
Her eyes were red and filled with loving tears,
Oh God my son has died, he was fighting side by side,
With the boys and men of the Ulster volunteers,
Those boys and men of the Ulster volunteers.

==
source http://orangesongbook.blogspot.com/2011/05/shankill-to-somme.html

There are a few recordings on youtube, including this one sung by Alex Allen (deceased 2015)

Subject: RE: Lyr Add: From the Shankill to the Somme
From: Felipa
Date: 03 Jul 21 - 07:49 PM

I copied and pasted the lyrics without proofreading them
Correction highlighted in bold:
We remember as long as the bright red poppies grow

To me it sounds like Alex Allen sings "the 19th of July", even though the youtube video gives the words as "the 9th day of July".
I looked up these dates for 1916. 9 July was the date of the Battle of Verdun. The Attack at Fromelles took place 19–20 July 1916. And how long would it take for a mother to actually hear of her son's death?

All the recordings I sampled use the same tune as the song Working Man (It's a Working Man I am and I've been down under ground...)

Although in Northern Ireland, the Battle of the Somme is mostly commemorated in the Unionist/Loyalist community, there were plenty of Catholics - even some who were strongly Nationalist - from Ireland who served in British troops in WW1. There were also women who served as nurses and doctors.
https://www.irishtimes.com/culture/heritage/forgotten-heroines-the-irish-women-who-died-in-the-first-world-war-1.3690961

Medical doctor Elizabeth Gould Bell, who survived the war, but lost a son: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Elizabeth_Gould_Bell

Subject: Lyr Add: A Million Miles from Belfast
From: Felipa
Date: 03 Jul 21 - 08:00 PM

another song related to the Somme, also published in http://orangesongbook.blogspot.com/2011/05/shankill-to-somme.html

MILLION MILES FROM BELFAST

Oh I don't know if you'll ever read this letter,
But I'm writing, anyway, to let you know,
With pen in hand I sit here by the campfire,
And hear my comrades singing soft and low.

I thank you, for years of love and laughter,
For constancy to me through joy and pain,
And I wonder here, [if ]"I love you," really matters,
I may never see your lovely face again.

Chorus.

And I'm yearning for the Mists of Dalriada,
And I miss the Lagan River flowing slow,
And I hunger for your love dear,
'Cos when the morning comes dear,
A bugle call, my darling I must go.

Well it seems a million miles from Belfast City,
From home and fire and children growing tall,
At this time when fears and doubts beset me,
Dread night before the Battle of the Somme.

And I don't know what tomorrow holds, my lovely,
As I face the angry thunder of the gun,
When wailing banshee shells explode above me,
And the Valiant Men of Ulster give their blood.

Chorus.

And I'm yearning for the Mists of Dalriada,
And I miss the Lagan River flowing slow,
And I hunger for your love dear,
'Cos when the morning comes dear,
A bugle call, my darling I must go.

The air is full of fearful expectations
This gethsemane of waiting's hard to bear,
But memories of you bring consolation,
Well, a shiny rose beneath the tangled wire.

And I need to tell you that I really love you,
And I know I haven't said it for so long,
My heart will hold the fragrance of your love, dear,
Tomorrow at the Battle of the Somme.

Chorus.

And I'm yearning for the Mists of Dalriada,
And I miss the Lagan River flowing slow,
And I hunger for your love dear,
'Cos when the morning comes dear,
A bugle call, my darling I must go.