I'll Make a Man of You: Recruitment Songs of the First World War
On the 4th August, 1914, it was as if time stopped. Archduke Franz Ferdinand of Austria had been assassinated on June 28th. Germany had invaded Belgium. Britain told Germany that if they did not back down and cease their aggression, Britain would have no choice but to act. Britain had been in a treaty with Belgium since 1839, promising to come to their aid on the event of outside aggression. The ultimatum had been laid. The deadline was 11pm. When the bells across the country chimed those eleven, resounding notes, no reply had been received from the German Kaiser. Therefore, just before midnight on 4th August 1914, King George V agreed to those bitter and infamous words: ‘Britain declares war on Germany’.
For the British people this was met with a mixture of emotions. For many, they were excited, intrigued, believing that they should stand up for their weaker counterpart in Belgium and fight back the onslaught of the German army. Large crowds gathered outside Buckingham Palace, cheering and waving Union Jacks in their support for the war effort. For others, the announcement was met with worry, trepidation and just a hint of fear. Some within Prime Minister Herbert Asquith’s cabinet resigned, unable to stomach that this ultimatum had even been made. Nevertheless, however the people felt, Britain was at war, and catastrophe was peering over the horizon.
The announcement of war also necessitated a drive for recruitment. Within days, hundreds of thousands of men, young and old, had rushed to the recruiting offices, enthused with the idea of war. Without any kind of conscription at the time, all two million of the newly-recruited soldiers were volunteers. The idea of the war as good, right and necessary was widespread, and was very quickly perpetuated and supported by those in positions of influence, especially in media. Rudyard Kipling, a passionate imperialist, wrote pro-war pamphlets for the government. G.K. Chesterton, Arthur Conan Doyle and six Oxford University history professors leapt to join the propaganda machine. Even those writers that had gained reputations as pacifists or criticisers of war, such as H.G. Wells and G.B. Shaw desired victory for the empire. Films began to show pro-war stories and footage of happy recruits joining up; books, poetry and plays rallied to the cause, presenting the war as a patriotic duty, moral imperative and heroic fantasy. Almost every facet of British culture strained to support and promote the war effort in the early stages of 1914-15.
Music is, and always has been, a powerful, emotionally resonant and transcendent medium. From its origins in the formation of language, to the courts of princes and kings; from private concerts in the shower to sold-out world tours; from small, intoxicating back-alley jazz halls, to the grandiose orchestral music theatres; from humming along to a song you can’t get out of your head, to belting it out at the top of your lungs, with your friends, at a karaoke night, music has always had an incredible power to bring people together and join them in a collective experience. It was this power that the music halls of Britain mobilised in 1914.
The music stars of the day turned their talents to driving recruitment. Indeed, one of the best-known performers of the era, Vesta Tilley, became known as ‘Britain’s best recruiting Sergeant’, as music halls across the country were filled with her songs of patriotic gusto, with titles such as: ‘Jolly Good Luck to the Girl Who Loves a Soldier’, ‘The Army of Today's All Right’ or ‘We Don't Want to Lose You but We Think You Ought to Go’. Once, she recruited so many men at one of her shows that they became known as the ‘Vesta Tilley Platoon’.
What is interesting about how these music stars and music halls rallied to the cause, is that it was not constructed by the government. Instead, notes John Mullen, ‘They make up a kind of Do-It-Yourself propaganda – not fabricated by some government office, but born from imperial feeling, and commercial skill, in a patriotic milieu aiming at respectability.’ This is probably why it was so effective. The working-class masses adored the music halls and their stars, a sentiment they did not hold for all politicians. The musical artistes could have a particular kind of impact that the government could not. Even the setting of the music hall leant itself to being an effective tool for recruitment. To hear songs envisioning the patriotic, moral, relational and imperial heroism of joining the military, among friends, in the relaxed, hustle-bustle of the music hall, moved the men in a special way.
Overall, these songs presented the war as wildly appealing. Not only was it the chance for the Briton to do his patriotic duty, to serve his nation and stand up for what was right, but it might even be an opportunity to improve his fortunes with the ladies.
In fact, one of the more successful songs performed was ‘I Do Like Yer, Cockie, Now You've Got Your Khaki on’. Marie Lloyd, singing in her distinctive cockney accent, told the story of how a young working-class man was not taken seriously by the girl he liked, but once he joined the army, she changed her mind, becoming desperate to become his wife almost immediately. While a rather fanciful song, words such as: ‘Oh I do feel so proud of you / I do, honour bright!/ I’m going to give yer an extra cuddle tonight/ I didn’t like you much before you joined the army, John/ But I do like yer, cockie, now you’ve got yer khaki on!’ would have been distinctly effective on those young men that were either unlucky in love, or had their eyes on a particular girl. Joining the army was a chance to win her over, to do her proud and to show her just how much of a man they were.
One of the more risqué songs that followed his theme, was ‘I'll Make a Man of You’ performed by the fittingly named Minnie Love. It is sung from the perspective of a beautiful, and potentially scandalous, young woman, about how she dates military men in order to turn them into better soldiers. In one verse, she recounts how she dated a different man each day of the week, and how she was amassing an ‘Army and a Navy of her own’.
Music has always been able to elicit powerful emotional reactions in its listeners, and this was utilised to an impressive degree by those artistes and music halls that rallied to the war effort. They were a successful means by which to drive recruitment, and helped mobilise a generation of men to fight ‘The War to End All Wars’.
If this can teach us anything today, it is to not underestimate the true impact and effect of music in our lives. Just as they were able to drive recruitment for a war with music, music artists today also have their agendas and intentions with their songs. History can teach us countless lessons, many of which come from those areas of our culture and media that we can tend to take for granted or overlook. Music is one such aspect. It is powerful, effective, and infinitely more impactful than we might realise.
Further Reading:
John Mullen, Propaganda and Dissent in British Popular Song during the Great War, Université Paris-Est Créteil, (2011).
Zachary Peatling, ‘Before Catastrophe: The State of Britain Before WW1’, Present History Blog, (2021)
Catriona Pennell, A Kingdom United?: Popular Responses to the Outbreak of the First World War in Britain and Ireland, (2012)
Max Arthur, When This Bloody War is Over: Soldiers' Songs of the First World War, (2001)
Zachary Peatling, ‘The Mobilisation of Identity in the World Wars’, Present History Blog, (2021)
