Song of the RMC Class of ’56

Mar 11

McNamara’s Band

They wake you up to music and you get up with the sun

The first thing that you have to do is clean your bloody gun

Then looking most immaculate you march out on the square

The BSM, the Adjutant and Fango are all there

Chorus

Send ‘em around, around again

Send ‘em around, please RSM

Keep your head up. Stand bloody still

There is nothing like acouple of hours of drill

Old Fango bawls, the Kaiser calls “By God I will inspect

For dirty nails and nicotine, for dust and rusty specks"

For extra drills you pound the square, a pack upon your back

The standard isn't good enough, the Corps is getting slack

What's your excuse? I've no excuse. That's how the charges go

You really must have some excuse for breaking that SO

Well sir - you mumble helples words. You known it is no use

The Major sits up in his chair and says "That's no excuse"

“Oh! You’re in late.” says Happy Jack, “That really must not be

Third Class is getting bloody slack – no responsibility”

But all the threats of charges do not give us a fright

'Cos we’ll always remember it as a bloody terrific night

So if and when we graduate from Duntroon, RMC

And we come back as officers what bastards we will be

Two drills for this, a charge for that, we’ll laugh and think it grand

And we’ll remember happy days in McNamara’s band

SIRSL Welfare