Berrington Hospital, autograph book of Mary Maria Squire, item 25

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 Left page: 

Sing me to sleep when the bugle calls

I want to forget the war and all

Damp is my socks and cold my feet

 ...  with  ...   station  my  shirt  creep

Sing me to sleep where whizz bangs fly

And comrades are seriously wounded and die

And rats running all over my head

It sometimes makes me wish I were dead

Sing me to sleep somewhere near the sea

Where shells cannot hurt and snipers pot me

Think of me sleeping where the worms creep

Waiting my chance to put  duity  to sleep

Sing me to sleep in some old Shed

Away from the sight of the wounded and dead

I would rather be in hospital where it is nice

free from all vermin those things they call lice

far from the flashlights I long to be

Lights of my own town I rather would see

And think of me sometimes when at my photo you peep

Waiting for the Sergeant  to sing me to sleep

I ofttimes wonder when will it all end

flee from physical drill the torture called  beyd 

I wish the old Kaiser was rocked in the deep

When I would come home and have a good sleep


 Right page: 

Then for some smiling faces and sad ones too

Mourning their lost ones we know tis but true

But they are keeping up bravely but with silent Grief

In the thought that they are happy in their long last sleep


Yorkshireham Court of Arms

A flei = will bite any body so will a Yorksman

A fly = will sup to anybody so will a Yorksman

A magpie = will talk to anybody so will a Yorksman

A flitch of Bacon = No good till it is hung neither is

                                  a Yorkshire Man

Pte W.E. Tate

Yorkshire Regt

Green Howards


Transcription saved

 Left page: 

Sing me to sleep when the bugle calls

I want to forget the war and all

Damp is my socks and cold my feet

 ...  with  ...   station  my  shirt  creep

Sing me to sleep where whizz bangs fly

And comrades are seriously wounded and die

And rats running all over my head

It sometimes makes me wish I were dead

Sing me to sleep somewhere near the sea

Where shells cannot hurt and snipers pot me

Think of me sleeping where the worms creep

Waiting my chance to put  duity  to sleep

Sing me to sleep in some old Shed

Away from the sight of the wounded and dead

I would rather be in hospital where it is nice

free from all vermin those things they call lice

far from the flashlights I long to be

Lights of my own town I rather would see

And think of me sometimes when at my photo you peep

Waiting for the Sergeant  to sing me to sleep

I ofttimes wonder when will it all end

flee from physical drill the torture called  beyd 

I wish the old Kaiser was rocked in the deep

When I would come home and have a good sleep


 Right page: 

Then for some smiling faces and sad ones too

Mourning their lost ones we know tis but true

But they are keeping up bravely but with silent Grief

In the thought that they are happy in their long last sleep


Yorkshireham Court of Arms

A flei = will bite any body so will a Yorksman

A fly = will sup to anybody so will a Yorksman

A magpie = will talk to anybody so will a Yorksman

A flitch of Bacon = No good till it is hung neither is

                                  a Yorkshire Man

Pte W.E. Tate

Yorkshire Regt

Green Howards



Transcription history
  • April 9, 2017 04:09:31 Cheryl Ellsworth

     Left page: 

    Sing me to sleep when the bugle calls

    I want to forget the war and all

    Damp is my socks and cold my feet

     ...  with  ...   station  my  shirt  creep

    Sing me to sleep where whizz bangs fly

    And comrades are seriously wounded and die

    And rats running all over my head

    It sometimes makes me wish I were dead

    Sing me to sleep somewhere near the sea

    Where shells cannot hurt and snipers pot me

    Think of me sleeping where the worms creep

    Waiting my chance to put  duity  to sleep

    Sing me to sleep in some old Shed

    Away from the sight of the wounded and dead

    I would rather be in hospital where it is nice

    free from all vermin those things they call lice

    far from the flashlights I long to be

    Lights of my own town I rather would see

    And think of me sometimes when at my photo you peep

    Waiting for the Sergeant  to sing me to sleep

    I ofttimes wonder when will it all end

    flee from physical drill the torture called  beyd 

    I wish the old Kaiser was rocked in the deep

    When I would come home and have a good sleep


     Right page: 

    Then for some smiling faces and sad ones too

    Mourning their lost ones we know tis but true

    But they are keeping up bravely but with silent Grief

    In the thought that they are happy in their long last sleep


    Yorkshireham Court of Arms

    A flei = will bite any body so will a Yorksman

    A fly = will sup to anybody so will a Yorksman

    A magpie = will talk to anybody so will a Yorksman

    A flitch of Bacon = No good till it is hung neither is

                                      a Yorkshire Man

    Pte W.E. Tate

    Yorkshire Regt

    Green Howards


  • April 9, 2017 04:06:56 Cheryl Ellsworth

     Left page: 

    Sing me to sleep when the bugle calls

    I want to forget the war and all

    Damp is my socks and cold my feet

     ...  with  ...  station my shirt creep

    Sing me to sleep where whizz bangs fly

    And comrades are seriously wounded and die

    And rats running all over my head

    It sometimes makes me wish I were dead

    Sing me to sleep somewhere near the sea

    Where shells cannot hurt and snipers pot me

    Think of me sleeping where the worms creep

    Waiting my chance to put  duity  to sleep

    Sing me to sleep in some old Shed

    Away from the sight of the wounded and dead

    I would rather be in hospital where it is nice

    free from all vermin those things they call lice

    far from the flashlights I long to be

    Lights of my own town I rather would see

    And think of me sometimes when at my photo you peep

    Waiting for the Sergeant  to sing me to sleep

    I ofttimes wonder when will it all end

    flee from physical drill the torture called  beyd 

    I wish the old Kaiser was rocked in the deep

    When I would come home and have a good sleep


     Right page: 

    Then for some smiling faces and sad ones too

    Mourning their lost ones we know tis but true

    But they are keeping up bravely but with silent Grief

    In the thought that they are happy in their long last sleep


    Yorkshireham Court of Arms

    A flei = will bite any body so will a Yorksman

    A fly = will sup to anybody so will a Yorksman

    A magpie = will talk to anybody so will a Yorksman

    A flitch of Bacon = No good till it is hung neither is

                                      a Yorkshire Man

    Pte W.E. Tate

    Yorkshire Regt

    Green Howards



  • April 9, 2017 03:27:05 Cheryl Ellsworth

    Sing me to sleep when the bugle calls

    I want to forget the war and all

    Damp is my socks and cold my feet

     ...  with  ...  station my shirt creep

    Sing me to sleep where whizz bangs fly

    And comrades are seriously wounded and die

    And rats running all over my head

    It sometimes makes me wish I were dead

    Sing me to sleep somewhere near the sea

    Where shells cannot hurt and snipers pot me

    Think of me sleeping where the worms creep

    Waiting my chance to put  ...  to sleep

    Sing me to sleep in some old Shed

    Away from the sight of the wounded and dead

    I would rather be in hospital where it is nice

    free from all vermin theres things they call lice

    far from the flashlights I long to be

    Lights of my own town I rather would see

    And think of me sometimes when at my photo you peep

    Waiting for the Sergeant  to sing me to sleep

    Soft tissues wonder when will it all end

    flee from physical drill the torture called bend

    I wish the old Kaiser was rocked in the deep

    When I would come home and have a good sleep

    [end page]

    [start page]

    Then for some smiling faces and sad ones too

    Mourning their lost ones we know tis but true

    But they are keeping up bravely but with silent Grief

    In the thought that they are happy in their long last

                                                                                sleep

    Yorkshire ham Court of Arms

    A flea = will bite any body so will a Yorksman

    A fly = will sup to anybody so will a Yorksman

    A magpie = will talk to anybody so will a Yorksman

    A flitch of Bacon = No good till it is hung neither is

                                             a Yorkshire Man

        Pte W.E. Tate

       Yorkshire Regt

              Green Howards



  • March 24, 2017 21:34:47 Annick Rodriguez

    Sing me to sleep when the bugle calls

    I want to forget the war and all

     ...  is my Books and  ...  my feet

     ...  with  ...  station my shirt creep

    Sing me to sleep where whizz bangs fly

    And comrades are seriously wounded and die

    And rats running all over my head

    It sometimes makes me wish I were dead

    Sing me to sleep somewhere near the sea

    Where shells cannot hurt and snipers pot me

    Think of me sleeping where the worms creep

    Waiting my chance to put  ...  to sleep

    Sing me to sleep in some old Shed

     ...  from the sight of the wounded and dead

    I would rather be in hospital where it is nice

    free from all vermin theres things they call lice

    far from the flashlights I long to be

    Lights of my own town I rather would see

    And think of me sometimes when at my photo you peep

    Waiting for the Sergeant  to sing me to sleep

    Soft tissues wonder when will it all end

    flee from physical drill the torture called bend

    I wish the old Kaiser was rocked in the deep

    When I would come home and have a good sleep

    [end page]

    [start page]

    Then for some smiling faces and sad ones too

    Mourning their lost ones we know tis but true

    But they are keeping up bravely but with silent Grief

    In the thought that they are happy in their long last

                                                                                sleep

    Yorkshire ham Court of Arms

    A flea = will bite any body so will a Yorksman

    A fly = will sup to anybody so will a Yorksman

    A magpie = will talk to anybody so will a Yorksman

    A flitch of Bacon = No good till it is hung neither is

                                             a Yorkshire Man

        Pte W.E. Tate

       Yorkshire Regt

              Green Howards



  • March 24, 2017 21:33:39 Annick Rodriguez

    Sing me to sleep when the bugle calls

    I want to forget the war and all

     ...  is my Books and  ...  my feet

     ...  with  ...  station my shirt creep

    Sing me to sleep where whizz bangs fly

    And comrades are seriously wounded and die

    And rats running all over my head

    It sometimes makes me wish I were dead

    Sing me to sleep somewhere near the sea

    Where shells cannot hurt and snipers pot me

    Think of me sleeping where the worms creep

    Waiting my chance to put  ...  to sleep

    Sing me to sleep in some old Shed

     ...  from the sight of the wounded and dead

    I would rather be in hospital where it is nice

    free from all vermin theres things they call lice

    far from the flashlights I long to be

    Lights of my own town I rather would see

    And think of me sometimes when at my photo you peep

    Waiting for the Sergeant  to sing me to sleep

    Soft tissues wonder when will it all end

    flee from physical drill the torture called bend

    I wish the old Kaiser was rocked in the deep

    When I would come home and have a good sleep

    [end page]

    [start page]

    Then for some smiling faces and sad ones too

    Mourning their lost ones we know tis but true

    But they are keeping up bravely but with silent Grief

    In the thought that they are happy in their long last

                                                                                sleep

    Yorkshire ham Court of Arms

    A flea = will bite any body so will a Yorksman

    A fly = will sup to anybody so will a Yorksman

    A magpie = will talk to anybody so will a Yorksman

    A flitch of Bacon = No good till it is hung neither is

                                             a Yorkshire Man

        Pte W.E. Tate

       Yorkshire 



  • March 24, 2017 21:32:20 Annick Rodriguez

    Sing me to sleep when the bugle calls

    I want to forget the war and all

     ...  is my Books and  ...  my feet

     ...  with  ...  station my shirt creep

    Sing me to sleep where whizz bangs fly

    And comrades are seriously wounded and die

    And rats running all over my head

    It sometimes makes me wish I were dead

    Sing me to sleep somewhere near the sea

    Where shells cannot hurt and snipers pot me

    Think of me sleeping where the worms creep

    Waiting my chance to put  ...  to sleep

    Sing me to sleep in some old Shed

     ...  from the sight of the wounded and dead

    I would rather be in hospital where it is nice

    free from all vermin theres things they call lice

    far from the flashlights I long to be

    Lights of my own town I rather would see

    And think of me sometimes when at my photo you peep

    Waiting for the Sergeant  to sing me to sleep

    Soft tissues wonder when will it all end

    flee from physical drill the torture called bend

    I wish the old Kaiser was rocked in the deep

    When I would come home and have a good sleep

    [end page]

    [start page]

    Then for some smiling faces and sad ones too

    Mourning their lost ones we know tis but true

    But they are keeping up bravely but with silent Grief

    In the thought that they are happy in their long last

                                                                                sleep

    Yorkshire ham Court of Arms

    A flea = will bite any body so will a Yorksman

    A fly = will sup to anybody so will a Yorksman

    A magpie = will talk to anybody so will a Yorksman

    A flitch of Bacon = No good till it is hung neither is

                                             a Yorkshire Man

        Pte W.E. Tate




  • March 24, 2017 21:31:56 Annick Rodriguez

    Sing me to sleep when the bugle calls

    I want to forget the war and all

     ...  is my Books and  ...  my feet

     ...  with  ...  station my shirt creep

    Sing me to sleep where whizz bangs fly

    And comrades are seriously wounded and die

    And rats running all over my head

    It sometimes makes me wish I were dead

    Sing me to sleep somewhere near the sea

    Where shells cannot hurt and snipers pot me

    Think of me sleeping where the worms creep

    Waiting my chance to put  ...  to sleep

    Sing me to sleep in some old Shed

     ...  from the sight of the wounded and dead

    I would rather be in hospital where it is nice

    free from all vermin theres things they call lice

    far from the flashlights I long to be

    Lights of my own town I rather would see

    And think of me sometimes when at my photo you peep

    Waiting for the Sergeant  to sing me to sleep

    Soft tissues wonder when will it all end

    flee from physical drill the torture called bend

    I wish the old Kaiser was rocked in the deep

    When I would come home and have a good sleep

    [end page]

    [start page]

    Then for some smiling faces and sad ones too

    Mourning their lost ones we know tis but true

    But they are keeping up bravely but with silent Grief

    In the thought that they are happy in their long last

                                                                                sleep

    Yorkshire ham Court of Arms

    A flea = will bite any body so will a Yorksman

    A fly = will sup to anybody so will a Yorksman

    A magpie = will talk to anybody so will a Yorksman

    A flitch of Bacon = No good till it is hung neither is

                                             a Yorkshire Man



  • March 24, 2017 21:01:15 Annick Rodriguez

    Sing me to sleep when the bugle calls

    I want to forget the war and all

     ...  is my Books and  ...  my feet

     ...  with  ...  station my shirt creep

    Sing me to sleep where whizz bangs fly

    And comrades are seriously wounded and die

    And rats running all over my head

    It sometimes makes me wish I were dead

    Sing me to sleep somewhere near the sea

    Where shells cannot hurt and snipers pot me

    Think of me sleeping where the worms creep

    Waiting my chance to put  ...  to sleep

    Sing me to sleep in some old Shed

     ...  from the sight of the wounded and dead

    I would rather be in hospital where it is nice

    free from all vermin theres things they call lice

    far from the flashlights I long to be

    Lights of my own town I rather would see

    And think of me sometimes when at my photo you peep

    Waiting for the Sergeant  to sing me to sleep

    Soft tissues wonder when will it all end

    flee from physical drill the torture called bend

    I wish the old Kaiser was rocked in the deep

    When I would come home and have a good sleep

    [end page]

    [start page]

    Then for some smiling faces and sad ones too

    Mourning their lost ones we know tis but true

    But they are keeping up bravely but with silent Grief

    In the thought that they are happy in their long last

                                                                                sleep

    Yorkshire ham Court of Arms

    A flea = will bite any body so will a Yorksman

    A fly = will sup to anybody so will a Yorksman

    A magpie = will talk



  • March 24, 2017 20:58:07 Annick Rodriguez

    Sing me to sleep when the bugle calls

    I want to forget the war and all

     ...  is my Books and  ...  my feet

     ...  with  ...  station my shirt creep

    Sing me to sleep where whizz bangs fly

    And comrades are seriously wounded and die

    And rats running all over my head

    It sometimes makes me wish I were dead

    Sing me to sleep somewhere near the sea

    Where shells cannot hurt and snipers pot me

    Think of me sleeping where the worms creep

    Waiting my chance to put  ...  to sleep

    Sing me to sleep in some old Shed

     ...  from the sight of the wounded and dead

    I would rather be in hospital where it is nice

    free from all vermin theres things they call lice

    far from the flashlights I long to be

    Lights of my own town I rather would see

    And think of me sometimes when at my photo you peep

    Waiting for the Sergeant  to sing me to sleep

    Soft tissues wonder when will it all end

    flee from physical drill the torture called bend

    I wish the old Kaiser was rocked in the deep

    When I would come home and have a good sleep

    [end page]

    [start page]

    Then for some smiling faces and sad ones too

    Mourning their lost ones we know tis but true

    But they are keeping up bravely but with silent Grief



  • March 24, 2017 20:56:48 Annick Rodriguez

    Sing me to sleep when the bugle calls

    I want to forget the war and all

     ...  is my Books and  ...  my feet

     ...  with  ...  station my shirt creep

    Sing me to sleep where whizz bangs fly

    And comrades are seriously wounded and die

    And rats running all over my head

    It sometimes makes me wish I were dead

    Sing me to sleep somewhere near the sea

    Where shells cannot hurt and snipers pot me

    Think of me sleeping where the worms creep

    Waiting my chance to put  ...  to sleep

    Sing me to sleep in some old Shed

     ...  from the sight of the wounded and dead

    I would rather be in hospital where it is nice

    free from all vermin theres things they call lice

    far from the flashlights I long to be

    Lights of my own town I rather would see

    And think of me sometimes when at my photo you peep

    Waiting for the Sergeant  to sing me to sleep

    Soft tissues wonder when will it all end

    flee from physical drill the torture called bend

    I wish the old Kaiser was rocked in the deep

    When I would come home and have a good sleep



  • March 24, 2017 20:54:11 Annick Rodriguez

    Sing me to sleep when the bugle calls

    I want to forget the war and all

     ...  is my Books and  ...  my feet

     ...  with  ...  station my shirt creep

    Sing me to sleep where whizz bangs fly

    And comrades are seriously wounded and die

    And rats running all over my head

    It sometimes makes me wish I were dead

    Sing me to sleep somewhere near the sea

    Where shells cannot hurt and snipers pot me

    Think of me sleeping where the worms creep

    Waiting my chance to put  ...  to sleep

    Sing me to sleep in some old Shed

     ...  from the sight of the wounded and dead

    I would rather be in hospital where it is nice

    free from all vermin theres things they call lice

    far from the flashlights I long to be

    Lights of my own town I rather would see

    And think of me sometimes when at my photo you peep

    Waiting for the Sergeant  to sing me to sleep

    Soft tissues wonder when will it all end

    flee from physical 



  • March 24, 2017 20:49:01 Annick Rodriguez

    Sing me to sleep when the bugle calls

    I want to forget the war and all

     ...  is my Books and  ...  my feet

     ...  with  ...  station my shirt creep

    Sing me to sleep where whizz bangs fly

    And comrades are seriously wounded and die

    And rats running all over my head

    It sometimes makes me wish I were dead

    Sing me to sleep somewhere near the sea

    Where shells cannot hurt and snipers pot me

    Think of me sleeping where the worms creep

    Waiting my chance to put  ...  to sleep

    Sing me to sleep in some old Shed

     ...  from the sight of the wounded and dead

    I would rather be in hospital where it is nice

    free from all vermin theres things they call lice

    far from the flashlights I long to be

    Lights of my own town I rather would see

    And think of me sometimes when at my photo you peep

    Waiting



  • March 24, 2017 20:48:21 Annick Rodriguez

    Sing me to sleep when the bugle calls

    I want to forget the war and all

     ...  is my Books and  ...  my feet

     ...  with  ...  station my shirt creep

    Sing me to sleep where whizz bangs fly

    And comrades are seriously wounded and die

    And rats running all over my head

    It sometimes makes me wish I were dead

    Sing me to sleep somewhere near the sea

    Where shells cannot hurt and snipers pot me

    Think of me sleeping where the worms creep

    Waiting my chance to put  ...  to sleep

    Sing me to sleep in some old Shed

     ...  from the sight of the wounded and dead

    I would rather be in hospital where it is nice

    free from all vermin theres things they call lice

    far from the flashlights I long to be

    Lights of my own town I rather would see



  • March 24, 2017 20:42:47 Annick Rodriguez

    Sing me to sleep when the bugle calls

    I want to forget the war and all

     ...  is my Books and  ...  my feet

     ...  with  ...  station my shirt creep

    Sing me to sleep where whizz bangs fly

    And comrades are seriously wounded and die

    And rats running all over my head

    It sometimes makes me wish I were dead

    Sing me to sleep somewhere near the sea

    Where shells cannot hurt and snipers pot me

    Think of me sleeping where the worms creep

    Waiting my chance to put  ...  to sleep

    Sing me to sleep in some old Shed


  • March 24, 2017 20:39:03 Annick Rodriguez

    Sing me to sleep when the bugle calls

    I want to forget the war and all

     ...  is my Books and  ...  my feet

     ...  with  ...  station my shirt creep

    Sing me to sleep where whizz bangs fly

    And comrades are seriously wounded and die

    And rats running all over my head

    It sometimes makes me


Description

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  • 52.7073029||-2.7553268||

    Shrewsbury, England

    ||1
Location(s)
  • Story location Shrewsbury, England


ID
3211 / 42616
Source
http://europeana1914-1918.eu/...
Contributor
Anthony Draper-Smith
License
http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0/




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