When This Bloody War Is Over

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This is one set of lyrics among dozens of versions.  Clearly, soldiers were creative with the core version.  

When This Bloody War Is Over

by Ran Noakes

When this bloody war is over, 

No more soldiering for me,

When I get my civvy clothes on, 

Oh how happy I shall be.

No more church parades on Sunday, 

No more putting in for leave,

I will kiss the Sergeant-Major,

How I'll miss him, how I'll grieve.

Kitchener told us when we landed 

All the medals we could win

But all glory is in the guardroom,

And medals, they're all made of tin.

No more standing in the trenches,

No more dodging shells and fire

We will tell the Sergeant Major

We're tired of all this bloody mire

No more church parades on Sunday

No more begging for a pass

I will tell the Sergeant Major

He can stuff his passes up his ass.