I’ll always remember crossing the river
Crossing the river long before the sun
We were dressed up like scarecrows, but scarecrows have more clothes
I carried a blanket and a rusty old gun
When we reached the north shore was then my sweat did pour
For I knew that death may be waiting there
His silence was goading, his hush was foreboding
As we left the pontoons he did not appear
Through dry fields and vineyards how quickly we traversed
Quickly we traversed with hardly a sound
The sun came up scorching - a searing hot morning
And our alpargatas tramped on the dry ground
Some thought they were dreaming, some were not believing
For four hours we marched without any fray
But I knew past this lulling a storm would be coming
A storm would be coming to blow us away
Soon it all started we dropped and we darted
Into the vineyards some cover to seek
And Sexton was lucky a bullet so plucky
Passed through his broad face and sailed out his cheek
But onwards we hurried and forwards we scurried
The Sierra Cabols our shoes cut to shreds
But our luck was fairer when we took Corbera
And made our first camp on a dry river bed
The sun came up shining and we came up climbing
Into the mountains then came the cries
“Avion! Avion! And down came the bombs
And they blew up the dams and cut all our supplies
And soon there was sniping and soon there was griping
And two lads fell by me with hardly a sound
As their blankets hugged them two graves I dug them
In the thin soil when the sun had gone down
We’d no food for three days, no water for two days
With my empty bottle I crawled through the vines
Til a morsel I found there - some grapes on the ground there
And all the lads swore they were better than wine
By the town of Gandesa we met our oppressor
A hill loomed before us all stark in the sun
And like kids in a story we all hoped for glory
And the name of that pimple was Hill 481
Crossing the river long before the sun
We were dressed up like scarecrows, but scarecrows have more clothes
I carried a blanket and a rusty old gun
When we reached the north shore was then my sweat did pour
For I knew that death may be waiting there
His silence was goading, his hush was foreboding
As we left the pontoons he did not appear
Through dry fields and vineyards how quickly we traversed
Quickly we traversed with hardly a sound
The sun came up scorching - a searing hot morning
And our alpargatas tramped on the dry ground
Some thought they were dreaming, some were not believing
For four hours we marched without any fray
But I knew past this lulling a storm would be coming
A storm would be coming to blow us away
Soon it all started we dropped and we darted
Into the vineyards some cover to seek
And Sexton was lucky a bullet so plucky
Passed through his broad face and sailed out his cheek
But onwards we hurried and forwards we scurried
The Sierra Cabols our shoes cut to shreds
But our luck was fairer when we took Corbera
And made our first camp on a dry river bed
The sun came up shining and we came up climbing
Into the mountains then came the cries
“Avion! Avion! And down came the bombs
And they blew up the dams and cut all our supplies
And soon there was sniping and soon there was griping
And two lads fell by me with hardly a sound
As their blankets hugged them two graves I dug them
In the thin soil when the sun had gone down
We’d no food for three days, no water for two days
With my empty bottle I crawled through the vines
Til a morsel I found there - some grapes on the ground there
And all the lads swore they were better than wine
By the town of Gandesa we met our oppressor
A hill loomed before us all stark in the sun
And like kids in a story we all hoped for glory
And the name of that pimple was Hill 481
Contributed by Dq82 - 2019/5/19 - 19:51
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The ballad of Johnny Longstaff
Lyrics taken from mudcat.org
Any Bread? - Carrying the Coffin - Hostel Strike - Cable Street - Robson’s Song - Ta-Ra to Tooting - Noddy - The Great Tomorrow - Ay Carmela - Paella - No Hay Pan - Trench Tales - Lewis Clive - David Guest - Over the Ebro - The Valley of Jarama - Trespassers (da tiny notes)
Over the Ebro was the final song to be completed in March 2018 barely a week before we premiered the show! It was touch and go whether we could arrange and learn yet another new song but we just about managed it. Cyril Sexton was a London volunteer who, like Johnny himself, was lucky to survive the war after being shot through the cheek. We were delighted when his son Clive came to see the show at Cecil Sharp House in April 2018 and nodded enthusiastically all the way through. The song closely follows Johnny’s account of the build up to the Battle for Hill 481 in Any Bread Mister?