Who Would Be A Land Girl?

Who Would Be A Land Girl? by Violet Winkles

Oh, who would be a land-girl, we chorus with a groan
When Autumn days turn chilly and the wind begins to moan
Around the barns and buildings as day draws to its close
Freezing toes and fingers and the tip of each pink nose

Oh who would be a land-girl we chorus in despair
When rain pours down in torrents and the curl has left our hair
I’ve got a special date to-night, what am I going to do
I’d wish to be at home in bed, l’ve got a touch of flu.

Oh who would be a land-girl we chorus full of woe
We’ve got the load of hay alright but now the horse won’t go
The pigs won’t eat their hay and straw, the cows won’t touch their swill
Oh Kathleen don’t you think we ought to give them each a pill
The rabbits ate our luncheon greens, the hens have had our tea
There’s nothing left in all the world save work, and you and me.
Oh it’s grand to be a land-girl when summer skies are blue
I wouldn’t change this job of mine for all the world, would you?

Oh who would be a land-girl we’re chorusing anew
For in between the big jobs there are little ones to do
While Violet’s scything nettles Kath is cleaning out the hens
And oh, she cries with mournful sighs, I wish I’d joined the WRENS

Oh who would be a land-girl we chorus in disgust
We’re trying to winnow barley and we’re being choked with dust
We’re hauling heavy sacks around, we’re sure they weigh a ton
We know we’ll all be total wrecks before this harvest’s done

Oh who would be a land-girl we chorus in dismay
For now we’ve finished silage and we’ve started on the hay
There’s always heaps more work to do no matter how we strive
If the days can get more strenuous I doubt that we’ll survive

Oh who would be a land-girl, again that mournful cry
As we try to thatch a hayrick to keep the darn stuff dry
We spread across the sloping roof and balance on one toe
Our position’s most precarious, the ground seems far below.

Oh who would be a land-girl we chorus in distress
We were sent to clean a ditch out and we’re in such a mess.
The ditch is full of water which alone would cause a frown
But now it’s started raining so I guess we’ll have to drown.

Oh who would be a land-girl, in disappointed tone
From an almost original member comes this not so original moan.
For years we’ve laboured on the land in sunshine, snow and rain
We’ve toiled and sweat, shed blood and tears
To grow more – and more again
To feed our hungry nation we’ve grown potatoes, cabbage, grain
But for all the blooming thanks we get
Our efforts might have been in vain
For when at last we get discharged at the final victory
We get shoes, shirt and overcoat, but no gratuity
And even when the fighting’s done
We can’t go home and say “We’ve won!”
We land-girls must go on and on
To help to feed the poor starved Hun.

The cows will always have to be milked
So VJ Day finds us at work
The next day, too, we’re harvesting
For land-girls must never shirk
And when we look upon the stooks we’re proud we did not relax
Until we look upon our pay – ten bob gone for Income Tax
Our pride all goes, our spirits sink and we’re not half so gay
Is THIS all the thanks for loyalty in working on Victory Day?
For we only got paid for the time we worked
All hours at double pay.
That ten bob makes it just about right
We worked for love on VJ
Come now, folks, you must agree
We’d have done better far to join in the spree
And left cows and harvest
And signed off with a great big V.