While researching for a current project, I came across the following parody of 'Lili Marlene'. According to the source, the lyrics were written by members of the 8th army serving in italy as a response to denigrating comments made about them by Lady Astor, after the Normandy landings in 1944. The lyrics are loaded with sarcasm to begin with, with the tone slipping to bitterness, and finally to poignancy at the end -- I, at least, find it very moving.
D-Day Dodgers
(To the tune of "Lili Marlene")
We are the
D-Day Dodgers, out in Italy,
Always on the vino, always on the
spree.
Eighth Army
skivers and their tanks,
We go to war in ties like swanks.
For we are the D-Day Dodgers, in sunny Italy.
We landed at
Salerno, a
holiday with pay.
Jerry brought his bands out to cheer us on his way,
Showed us the sights and gave us tea,
We all sang songs, the
beer was free.
For we are the D-Day Dodgers, the lads that D-Day dodged.
Palermo and
Cassino were taken in our stride,
We did not go to fight there, we just went for the ride.
Anzio and
Sangro are just names,
We only went to look for dames,
For we are the D-Day Dodgers, in sunny Italy.
On our way to
Florence, we had a lovely time,
We drove a bus from
Rimini, right through the
Gothic Line,
Then to
Bologna we did go,
And went bathing in the
River Po,
For we are the D-Day Dodgers, the lads that D-Day dodged.
We hear the boys in
France are going home on leave,
After six months service such a
shame they're not relieved.
And we're told to carry on a few more years,
Because our wives don't shed no tears.
For we are the D-Day Dodgers, out in sunny Italy.
Once we had a "blue light" that we were going home,
Back to dear old
Blighty, never more to roam.
Then someone whispered:'In France we'll fight,'
We said: 'Not that, we'll just
sit tight,'
For we are the D-Day Dodgers, the lads that D-Day dodged.
Dear
Lady Astor, you think you know a lot,
Standing on a
platform and talking tommy rot.
Dear England's
sweetheart and her pride,
We think your mouth is much too wide -
From the D-Day Dodgers, out in sunny Italy.
Look around the hillsides, through the
mist and
rain,
See the
scattered crosses, some that bear no name.
Heartbreak and
toil and
suffering gone,
The lads beneath, they
slumber on.
They are the D-Day Dodgers, who'll stay in Italy.