Soldier of the Argonne - Introduction Part 1

As one travels through northern France and Flanders, the images that become imprinted in one's mind are the vast cemeteries with their thousands of white marble headstones.

These silent monuments of stone represent the fallen warriors of the First World War who came from a multitude of various countries and military units.

As one walks among the graves of the dead, you begin to realize that each grave contains a body of a once living person, a soldier; each one contains a now muffled tale of life.... and death.

It is reminiscent of the haunting lyrics in the song, Green Fields of France/No Man's Land:

Well, how do you do
Private William McBride?
Do you mind if I sit here
down by your graveside?

And rest for awhile beneath the warm summer sun
I've been walking all day, and I'm nearly done

And I see by your gravestone, you're only nineteen
When you joined the great fallen in nineteen sixteen
Well I hope you died quickly, I hope you died clean
Or poor Willy McBride, was it slow and obscene?

Did they beat the drums slowly?
Did they play the pipes lowly?
Did the bugles carry you over as they lowered you down?
And did the band play "The Last Post" in chorus?
Did the pipes play "The Flowers of the Forest"?

And did you leave a wife or a sweetheart behind?
In some loyal heart is your memory enshrined?
And though you died back in nineteen-sixteen
In that faithful heart are you always nineteen?

Or are you a stranger without a name?
Forever enshrined behind some glass pane
In an old photograph, torn and tattered, and stained
And faded to yellow in a brown leather frame.

Ah the sun's shining now on these green fields of France
The warm winds blow gently and the red poppies dance
The trenches have vanished under the plough
No gas and no barbed wire, no guns firing now
But here in the graveyard it's still No-Man's Land
The countless white crosses in mute witness stand
To Man's blind indifference to his fellow-man
To a whole generation who were butchered and damned

And I can't help but wonder now William McBride
Do all those who lie here know why they died
Did you really believe them when they told you the cause
Did you really believe that this war would end wars
Well the suffering and the sorrow and the glory, the shame
The killing the dying, the dying, it was all done in vain
For Willie McBride, it all happened again
And again, and again and again and again.

-Eric Bogle