Song of the RMC Class of ’56
McNamara’s Band
(Courtesy Don Atkinson and Lou Reinhold)
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 againSend ‘em around, please RSM
Keep your head up. Stand bloody still
There is nothing like a couple 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 god 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 wiords. 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