MUSIC OF
THE CORPS.


A favorite camp song of the UNION SIGNAL CORPS. was one composed by Lieut. A.B. Jerome, and sung to the air of "Do They Miss Me at Home." It was of the conventional convivial stamp, and sang prises of the Signal Corps. (Brown, Page 74)






Music Version #1 ~ Music Version #2
"While there's life there is hope" do not murmur
        For life's but a span at the best;
And a soldier's couch and fare boys,
        We'll enjoy while hope fires our breast.
Then a song and a glass we'll fill now,
        And drink our success in the war;
Not forgetting a drop in the cup, boys,
        For the health of the "SIGNAL CORPS."

When the cannons first sounded the onset,
        And the flag which we loved then first fell,
How we rushed to defend it "en masse," boys,
        Let future historians tell.
Then wave your wands in good token,
        Tho' it cost you the last of your gore;
We'll drink full success to the Nation,
        And a health to the "SIGNAL CORPS."

With numerals as well as with words, boys,
        We'll join in libation and song;
May the ties which now bind us ne'er sever,
        Nor death decimate this gay throng.
May our signals be signs of affection,
        Should we meet when we've ended the war;
When a comrade waves his wand, boys,
        Remember the old "SIGNAL CORPS."
Where the waves of old ocean dash on
        The coast of European domain;
Come friends to defend our good cause, boys,
        As friends may we always remain;
Each hand and each heart now united,
        No matter which state or what shore,
And while there's a drop in the cup, boys,
        Let us drink to the "SIGNAL CORPS."

Thrown together by fate for instruction,
        A glass for the friends we met here;
'Tis but meet we should drink in good bumpers,
        Our thanks for their kindness and care.
Like us drawn together by fortune,
        As comrades in arms in the war,
They will drink as hearty as we, boys,
        The success of the "SIGNAL CORPS."

To the mind who has thus interwoven,
        These numbers in system and form;
In behalf of ourselves and the nation,
        Our thanks and good wishes confirm.
May his life be protected in battle,
        And success give her smile all the more;
For it is he who has brought us together,
        Then to him and his "SIGNAL CORPS."
                                                    One more cheer, and our song is ended,
                                                           A cheer for the "Stripes and the Stars;"
                                                    For the army who fight to protect it,
                                                           And the shrine of our patron "Mars."
                                                    Good luck to the HEAD OF THE ARMY,
                                                           And our friends far away from the war;
                                                    So fill up your glasses once more boys,
                                                           And we'll drink to the "SIGNAL CORPS."


SONG OF THE CONFEDERATE SIGNAL CORPS

To The Tune of Bonnie Blue Flag

Music Version #1
There is a flag as yet unsung,
        A banner bright and fair,
It moves in waves of right and left,
        That banner in the air.
The wise may look, the scholar con,
        The wondering urchin stare,
But naught can make of the bonnie white flag;
        That bears the crimson square.

CHORUS--
               Hurrah! Hurrah!
               For the Signal Corps, Hurrah,
               Hurrah for the bonnie white flag
               That bears the crimson square.

To comrades true, far, far away
        Who watch with anxious eye,
These secret signs an import bear
        When waved against the sky.
As quick as thought, as swift as light,
        Those airy symbols there,
Are caught and read from the bonnie white flag,
        That bears the crimson square.

When arm'ed hosts in serried ranks
        Sweep forward to the fray,
The signal flag is waving there
        To point the victorious way,
From hill to hill, from crag to crag,
        The winged words to bear
That gave a name to the bonnie white flag
        That bears the crimson square.

When night draws o'er the wearied earth
        Her cloak of sable hue,
And bid us dream of home and friends,
        The soldiers staunch and true.
'Tis then the torch that's burning bright,
        Tells by its meteor glare
That we're on watch with the bonnie white flag
        That bears the crimson square.

Then let us hope when war is o'er
        And great, and good, and free
We stand and boast ourselves with truth
        A model confederancy,
That mildst war's recollections oft
        We too may claim a share,
As we fondly think of the bonnie white flag
        That bears the crimson square.

also see: "Hold the Fort, I Am Coming"