huggeroftrees | Well, I thought it was funny!

You probably didn't want the Marching Song. You're getting it anyway.

In explanation - On Monday I was somewhat excited about my Aunt's visit and the fact I could finally watch the second half of the A2A finale. The brain is oddly fertile when I'm excited. The brain is also oddly fertile when I'm walking. It tends to make up songs/humorous lyrics to already known tunes. Aaaaaaanyway.

There's me, tramping down to the station, cheerfully looking forward to the journey home, revelling in the heady taste of excitement and anticipation. The brain decides that it should present me with a verse.

"Ok" say I. "Nice verse. What's it go with?"

"AHA!" replies my every verdant brain, and provides me with scene, motivation 3 more verses and a chorus.

There was nothing else I could do. I wrote it down. It goes to the tune of "She'll Be Coming Round The Mountain When She Comes."

Polly, crouched behind the low bank of earth that was acting as their fortification this afternoon shifted position awkwardly and swore under her breath. Damn it. It was Kriplitz all over again. Her newest, greenest LT crawled over from the next group of lads to report that they were low on ammunition and leaning back to stretch a cramped calf she caught Mal's knowing gaze. In any other circumstance such insubordination would have merited frown but today she allowed the vampire a wee gloat. Mal had called it back at the barracks after all.

As Polly squatted there trying to work out a plan that would allow them to dissuade the opposition despite a painful lack of arrows, cover or any sort of helpful weather from the fates she heard a low voice drift over on the breeze. The lads were singing again. Bletchly this time by the sound of it.

Oh, We haven't got no arrers, no we aint.
No we haven't got no arrows - no we aint!
We haven't got no arrers...

There was a pause while the troubadour struggled for a rhyme until his compatriot broke in with:

So We're throwin rotten Marrers ^[1]

(there was muffled laughter before they all joined in on the last line)

We're Green Devils and we'll thrash you all the same.

^[1] My mother gave me this rhyme. My MOTHER. This is how fried my brain is at the moment. Work for money is all very well but it has woeful side effects.

As the chorus began, one by one voices rose from the small groups of lads scattered along the sheltered side of the bank.

So you can go back where you came from, if you please ^[2]
You can go back where you came from, if you please.
You can go back where you came from
Hurry up and get a move on
Or us Green Devils, we will help you on your way.

^[2] Observant readers may spot Polly's influence here. Politeness (as she was often wont to say) costs nothing.

Mal was biting her lip to hold by the grin by this point. From the other side of the vampire a reedy voice piped up:

They tried to fucking starve us. Didn't work.
So they threw big chunks of Gohoolnag^[3]. Didn't Work.
Now they're trying to fracking blast us
But we'll shoot their pasty wizards
We're Green Devils! None Can Match Us, Do you dare?

^[3]Troll Excrement. Does what it says on the tin.

The chorus spread further out along the line this time, voices rising into the air as the ragtag band lifted their heads and made a joyful noise unto their officers. It fell to the deep basso of the sergeants to release the next verse.

Oh, your army lad, he marches up and down
And your trooper, he loves riding round and round
If you don't fancy either
Try the Green and Badly Creased sir?
Join the Devils and we'll run you out of town.

They skipped the chorus to go straight onto the last verse. A strong favourite, roared out in pubs and barracks all over the country at one time or another.

Oh, Our Colonels they don't like us: QUEL SURPRISE! ^[4]
Yeah, Our Colonels they can't stand us. What a Shame.
Our Colonels ruddy hate us
But the Army FUCKING LOVES US!!!
We're Green Devils and We're Coming! RUN AWAY!!!

^[4] Mal's influence here... the sardonic shrug is highly imitated but never achieved.