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THE RUHLEBEN STORY
 
Ruhleben Songs
 
With thanks to Elizabeth Beasley and Denis Camps
 
 
The following songs were sung by both the English and German speaking prisoners interned at Ruhelben, as informal anthems for the camp. 
 
The first was written for one of the first productions put on in the Ruhleben Theatre. An original work, it came from a Revue entitled "Don't Laugh", written by C. H. Brooks, with music by Ernest MacMillan. The premiere was on May 8th 1915 and the song became a virtual national anthem for the prisoners. It was sung at the many Reunions after the War. The verses were even published in a Government White Paper, as well as in the Times newspaper.
 

The second is a German version of the Ruhleben song, sung to the tune of the Lorelei.

 

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THE RUHLEBEN SONG
 
FIRST VERSE
 
Oh we're roused up in the morning, when the day is gently dawning,
And we're put to bed before the night's begun,
And for many months on end, we have never seen a friend,
And we've lost the job our energy had won.
Yes, we've waited in the frost, for a parcel that got lost,
Or a letter that the postman never brings,
And it isn't beer and skittles, doing work on scanty victuals,
Yet every man can still get up and sing.
 
 
CHORUS
 
So line up boys and sing this chorus, shout this chorus all you can.
We want the people there, to hear in Leicester Square,
That we're the boys that never get downhearted.
Back, back, back again in England, then we'll fill the flowing cup,
And tell them clear and loud, of that Ruhleben crowd,
That always kept their pecker up.
 
 
SECOND VERSE
 
Oh, we send our love and kisses, to our sweetheart or our missus,
And we say the life we lead is grand.
And we stroll around the tea-'us, where the girls can sometimes see us,
And we say it's just as good as down the Strand.
Yet there sometimes comes a minute, whene we see there's nothing to it,
And the tale that we've been telling isn't true,
Down our spine there comes a-stealing, just a little homesick feeling,
Then I'll tell you boys the best thing you can do...
 
 
CHORUS
 
So line up boys and sing this chorus, shout this chorus all you can.
We want the people there, to hear in Leicester Square,
That we're the boys that never get downhearted.
Back, back, back again in England, then we'll fill the flowing cup,
And tell them clear and loud, of that Ruhleben crowd,
That always kept their pecker up.
 
 
 

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DIE RUHLEBENER LORELEI

  

Ich weiβ nicht was soll es bedeuten,

Daβ ich so traurig bin

Ich sitze ja hier in Ruhleben

Und werde bedenklich dunn.

Die Suppe—die sollte mehr kräftig

Und nicht halb Wasser zein

Auch Kaffee und Tee sind so wassrig

Das ist meine gröβte Pein.

 

Meine Frau nun zuhause sitzet

Wie wir, voll Sorg’ und Qual

Der Mann in Ruhleben schwitzet

Blos nicht von der Heizung im Stall

An der Zahl sind’s viertausand zweihundert

Alt, jung, karank, blind und lahm.

Über “Rumors” sich allee verwundert –

Wahrheit ist keine daran.

 

Um sieb’n, zwölf, fünf marschiert man

Durch Sumpf, Morast und Dreck.

Aus dem großen Kessel bekommt dann

Seine Brüh’ und geht wieder weg.

Man wäscht sich morgens im Gange

Die Reichen, die Schwarzen und wir

Es ist daher nichts mit dem Range

Es gibt keinen Unterschied hier.

 

Nun sitzen wir Arme gefangen,

Hier in dem Sandloche fest

Und allein zwei Karten gelangen

Allwöchentlich aus diesem Nest.

Unser Blatt – “Die B. Z. Zam Mittage” –

Das ist alt Weibergeschwätz

Sie schreibt von der glänzenden Luge

Und führt gegen uns ein Gehetz.

 

Auf Strohsäcken wir uns ja betten  

Da Federn (und Tinte) sind rar

Wir von unserem Gelde arhalten

Nur 10 M die Woche in bar

Man kaufet auch an der Kantine

Alles – nur nicht was man will

Und dann noch die schöne Latrine!!!

Der Anblick – wie traulich und still!!!
 
 


A Gathering of Inmates - photo courtesy by kind permission of Sheila Ibberson