Antiwar Music

Written as a poem by John McCrae during the Great War, In Flanders Fields is the original reason why the poppy became one of the international symbols of anti-war sentiment.
McCrae's poem returned from battlefield, McCrae - as so many others - did not.

There have been different songs created based on the poem, but this version and rendition is by far my favorite.

In Flanders Fields

In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved, and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.

The song is a unique cooperation of German songwriters Reinhard Mey, Klaus Hoffmann, Heinz Rudolf Kunze und Hans Scheibner. Made in 1990 during the German reunification and in the wake of the dissolution of the Soviet Union, the song provides 4 different viewpoints of 4 different Soldiers: An American GI in a Western German Military base, a Bundeswehr conscript, an Eastern-German NVA Gefreiter and a Soviet/Armenian tank operator stationed in a German garrison. They all just want to go home.

While not strictly anti-war but rather anti-militarism, I think it's still a good fit here.

Alle Soldaten wolln nach Haus - All Soldiers want to go home

In K-Town, tief in Western-Germany,
Zwischen Automarkt und Straßenstrich, in der Prairie
Steht Gabys Pizza-Palace, und da beißt der GI
Frank Kowalski aus Fort-Worth in seine Pizza-Pie.
Und er trinkt, bis ihm der Kopf auf die Theke fällt
In K-Town, Western-Germany, am Ende der Welt.
In Texas ham sie zwei Uhr Nachmittag.
Wie hoch im Westen jetzt der Weizen stehen mag?
Und über Gabys Pizza-Palace steht der bleiche Pfälzer Mond,
Und Kowalski ist jetzt endlich total zu und stoned.
„Fuck the Army“ lallt er schwankend und fällt dabei
Glatt auf den Knüppel der Militärpolizei.

Alle Soldaten wolln nach Haus,
Alle Soldaten wolln nach Haus.
Sie wolln die Uniform nicht mehr,
Den Stahlhelm und das Schießgewehr
Und auch nicht in den Kampf hinaus.
Soldaten wolln nur eins: Sie wolln nach Haus!

Bei Potsdam in der russischen Garnison
Streicht Igor in marxistischer Tradition
Die Kasernenmauer an in lebensfrohem Grau.
Die Farbe platzt gleich wieder ab, na klar, das weiß er genau.
Igor fährt Panzer, und wenn er nun den Pinsel schwingt,
Dann, weil sein Schrotthaufen in Friedenszeiten nie anspringt.
Vielleicht kommt das Ersatzteil eines Tags mit der Bahn
An seinem Dorf vorbei im fernen Eriwan.
Da sitzen sie jetzt hinterm Ofen, und er streicht hier allein,
Und die Mütze ist so groß und seine Jacke so klein,
Und das Brudervolk lacht über ihn hinter der Hand,
Und ihm geht‘s wie dem Genossen einst am Wolgastrand!

Alle Soldaten wolln nach Haus,
Alle Soldaten wolln nach Haus.
Sie wolln die Uniform nicht mehr,
Den Stahlhelm und das Schießgewehr
Und auch nicht in den Kampf hinaus.
Soldaten wolln nur eins: Sie wolln nach Haus!

An der Grenze, die durch Deutschland und Deutschland geht,
Steht der NVA-Gefreite Jochen M. und steht.
Und da steht er im Regen, und er steht aufm Schlauch,
Und er steht sich die Beine in den volkseignen Bauch.
Und jetzt, wo hier keiner mehr in den Westen abhaut,
Von drüben keiner kommt und hier den Sozialismus klaut,
Wo kein Hund mehr nach der Grenze bellt, vergisst der Soldat
Ab und zu schon mal den Arbeiter- und Bauernstaat.
Dafür kommt ihm dann die junge Brigadeführerin
Aus der LPG 9. November in den Sinn.
Und er träumt sich mit ihr an den schönsten Platz der Welt:
In eine Datsche am Stadtrand von Bitterfeld.

Alle Soldaten wolln nach Haus,
Alle Soldaten wolln nach Haus.
Sie wolln die Uniform nicht mehr,
Den Stahlhelm und das Schießgewehr
Und auch nicht in den Kampf hinaus.
Soldaten wolln nur eins: Sie wolln nach Haus!

19 Jahre alt ist Hinnerk Harms aus Leer.
Er hat anderthalb Jahre Bi-ba-bundeswehr.
Und die sind für ihn wie anderthalb Jahre Knast.
Es ist bitter zu wissen, was er draußen verpasst!
Während er hier einen streng geheimen Schlagbaum bewacht
Wird da draußen getanzt und geliebt und gelacht.
Dafür lernt er endlich, wie man in die Pfütze fällt,
Wie man Männchen macht und Händchen an die Mütze hält.
Und Hinnerk Harms aus Leer, Ostfriesland, ist total frustriert,
„Mann, das nervt zu spürn, wie man hier seine Zeit verliert!“
Vielleicht in seinem ganzen Leben die beste Zeit
Für nichts und wieder nichts und Leer, Ostfriesland, ist weit!

Alle Soldaten wolln nach Haus,
Alle Soldaten wolln nach Haus.
Sie wolln die Uniform nicht mehr,
Den Stahlhelm und das Schießgewehr
Und auch nicht in den Kampf hinaus.
Soldaten wolln nur eins: Sie wolln nach Haus!

Der Präsident will auf dem roten Teppich gehn,
Der Kriegsminister eines Tages sein Denkmal sehn,
Der Rüstungsbonze will, dass alle Räder rolln,
Und jeder von den dreien will, dass die Soldaten das wolln.
Aber die das nicht mehr wollen, werden jeden Tag mehr,
Und die Hoffnung, dieser Traum, ist gar nicht so verquer,
Frank Kowalski nimmt den Ghetto-Blaster, setzt sich in Marsch,
Hinnerk Harms schnürt den Persilkarton und sagt: „ …“ sagt er barsch.
Jochen M. eilt in die LPG zu seinem Schatz
Und meldet sich zum freiwilligen Ernteeinsatz.
Igor fällt mit einem Stoßseufzer der Pinsel aus der Hand,
Ja, Freunde, das, das ist der wahre Dienst am Vaterland!

Alle Soldaten wolln nach Haus,
Alle Soldaten wolln nach Haus.
Sie wolln die Uniform nicht mehr,
Den Stahlhelm und das Schießgewehr
Und auch nicht in den Kampf hinaus.

Alle Soldaten wolln nach Haus,
Am liebsten gleich und schnurstracks gradeaus.
Soldaten sind, man glaubt es nicht,
Aufs Sterben gar nicht so erpicht
Und auch nicht auf das „Feld der Ehre“ aus,
Soldaten wolln nur eins: Sie wolln nach Haus!

The video description says:
In November 1993 I read the following note in the taz (German newspaper):
In the north-Serbian Wojwodina a 2,000-people-village collectively refuses military service / Now the "Spiritual Republic Zitzer" has declared independence...
Thereupon this song evolved, about this almost unbelievable story. It belongs to my song cycle "Peculiar Saints". For this upload of the song I've searched the Internet again and actually found some authentic video recordings from 1992 and added them to the song.

Here are the lyrics:

Teachers bomb children, bakers are firing around wildly.
The neighbours nice boys turn into rapists.
The war devastates the land and the people and no end is in sight.
Only very isolated, very endangered, here and there a ray of hope:

Ref: Such as this Tresnevac, Tresnevac, little village in the north.
Resistance and imagination against the murdering

One morning, the postwoman delivered 200 gray postcards,
from the military office. Horror spread from house to house
"Reserve excercise" was written on them, but they meant "order to kill"
In the evening, crowded together in the village club they were all united by the idea:

To say "No!" together now, "No!" despite all threats.
Continue teaching children, baking bread rolls, driving tractor.
Simply not to obey. Simply not to go to war.
Determined to get through whatever comes, together.

Oh, this Tresnevac, Tresnevac, little village in the north.
Resistance and imagination against the murdering

Ninety-two tanks stood around the vilage, ready to shoot.
But the Tresnevacians remained hard-nosed the whole time.
The pub became their peace camp, the tanks retreated.
Soon the tiny spot declared itself boldly a "Spiritual Republic".

For the connection of all the people who want the peace. Now.
Drew up their own constitution in the pub.
And their coat of arms: Billiard balls for their peaceful model
Their anthem, quietly beginning, the "Bolero" by Ravel

Tresnevac, Tresnevac,...

"The Bolero doesn't stay quiet", the teacher plainly says.
"Even if they isolate us, our dream doesn't die!"
It will infect other, such a dream needs its time.
For now, all TV channels only show the inevitability.

Teachers bombard children, bakers are firing around wildly.
The neighbours nice boys turn into rapists.
The war devastates the land and the people and no end is in sight.
Only very isolated, very endangered, here and there a ray of hope:

Such as this Tresnevac, Tresnevac,...

Lyrics

Lyrics: https://genius.com/Dispatch-the-general-lyrics

Lyrics: https://genius.com/Avenged-sevenfold-critical-acclaim-lyrics

Lyrics: https://genius.com/Sum-41-march-of-the-dogs-lyrics

Lyrics: https://genius.com/Rise-against-hero-of-war-lyrics

Lyrics: https://genius.com/Hacktivist-dogs-of-war-lyrics

Territory" (1993) by Sepultura is a raw critique of land disputes, propaganda, and dehumanization in conflict zones—particularly resonant with the Israel-Palestine struggle. The lyrics expose how ideology weaponizes geography. Over 30 years later, enduring its relevance.

Unknown man
Speaks to the world
Sucking your trust
A trap in every word

War for territory
War for territory

Choice control
Behind propaganda
Poor information
To manage your anger

War for territory
War for territory

Dictators' speech
Blasting off your life
Rule to kill the urge
Dumb assholes' speech

Years of fighting
Teaching my son
To believe in that man
Racist human being
Racist ground will live
Shame and regret
Of the pride
You've once possessed

War for territory
War for territory

Lyrics:

Us and Them
And after all we're only ordinary men
Me and You
God only knows it's not what we would choose to do

‘Forward’, he cried from the rear and the front rank died
And the General sat and the lines on the map
Moved from side to side

Black and Blue
And who knows which is which and who is who
Up and Down
But in the end it's only round and round and round

Haven't you heard it's a battle of words the poster bearer cried
Listen son, said the man with the gun
There's room for you inside.

‘Well, I mean, they're gonna kill ya, so like, if you give 'em a quick sh...short, sharp shock, they don't do it again.
Dig it? I mean he got off light, 'cause I could've given him a thrashin' but I only hit him once.
It's only the difference between right and wrong, innit? I mean good manners don't cost nothing, do they? Eh?’

Down and Out
It can't be helped but there's a lot of it about
With, Without.
And who'll deny it's what the fightings all about

Out of the way, it's a busy day
I've got things on my mind
For want of the price of tea and a slice
The old man died

"The Creator makes but one demand
Peace and happiness through all the lands..."

The social and political upheavals of the 1960s have been cited as a major factor in the emergence of a new stylistic trend in jazz, with a very different emphasis to the forms of the music which emerged earlier. Many of the artists involved in the making of this new music, variously called "free jazz", "the new thing", or "energy music", recorded for the Impulse! label. Ashley Kahn writes that several musicians, often those who had either played with or been influenced by John Coltrane, such as his widow Alice Coltrane, Archie Shepp, Pharoah Sanders, and Leon Thomas, began exploring new thematic and musical ideas, often associated with non-western religious and musical traditions.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Karma_(Pharoah_Sanders_album)

According to Ben Ratliff of The New York Times, Thomas had begun his career "as a straight blues-jazz singer" with a "stout tenor voice", but by the mid-1960s, he "had begun to spend time with young jazz musicians who were looking to Africa, the East and meditation for musical material … Thomas developed his ululating singing style, which has been compared to African pygmy and American Indian singing techniques and which he later called 'soularphone.' He believed that his ancestors had given him his elastic throat articulation, he said, and henceforth always used it.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Leon_Thomas

track link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3ixv0kX3niA

This is a song in two parts: the intro and the outro have pro-war call and return gang vocals, but the meat of the song is very clearly anti-war. I'm not entirely sure what the purpose of the juxtaposition was, but it works IMO.

Got one chance (infiltrate them) 
Get it right (terminate them) 
The Panzers will (permeate them) 
Break their pride (denigrate them)

And their people (retrograde them) 
Typhus (deteriorate them) 
Epidemic (devastate them) 
Take no prisoners (cremate them) 
(Burn!)

Going to war, give 'em hell 
D-Day, next stop Normandy 
Beginning of the end 
We know how to, and sure as shit, we'll win

"War is peace", sure man 
A retreat for the damned 
A playground for the demented 
A haven for those who walk this world 
Bereft of heart and soul

Love and war, they say all is fair 
Take his life, but won't take his hair 
Your body parts, your country spares 
By the way son, here's your wheelchair

He once had to be all he could be 
Now he's nothing for no one, nowhere to see 
Funny thing, he's like you and me 
It's a funny thing, a funny thing 
Tears streak his solemn stare 
Abandoned for wreckage, nobody cares

No one knew what would happen there 
No one spoke, no one even cared 
Don't ask what you can do for your country 
Ask what your country can do for you

Take no prisoners (take no shit) 
Take no prisoners (take no shit) 
Take no prisoners (take no shit) 
Take no prisoners (take no-) 
(Shit)

Today I killed, he was just a boy 
Eight before him, I knew them all 
In the fields a dying oath 
I'd kill them all to save my own

Cut me free, bleed with me, oh no 
One by one, we will fall, down down 
Pull the plug, end the pain, run an' fight for life 
Hold on tight, this ain't my fight

Deliver me from this war 
It's not for me it's because of you 
Devil's instant; my eternity 
Obey to kill to save yourself

Cut me free, bleed with me, oh no 
One by one, we will fall, down down 
Pull the plug, end the pain, run an' fight for life 
Hold on tight, this ain't my fight

"I envy the 9 lives that gave me hell 
My path made up by their torn bodies 
Man to man, soldier to soldier, dust to dust 
Call me a coward but I can't take it anymore"

They wait for me far back home 
They live with eyes turned away 
They were the first ones to see 
They are the last ones to bleed

"The ultimate high as all beautiful dies 
A ruler's tool, a priest's excuse, a tyrant's delight 
I alone, the great white hunter 
I'll march till the dawn brings me rest

10th patriot at the gallows' pole!"

Cut me free, bleed with me, oh no 
One by one, we will fall, down down 
Pull the plug, end the pain, run an' fight for life 
Hold on tight, this ain't my fight 
Cut me free, bleed with me, oh no 
One by one, we will fall, down down 
Pull the plug, end the pain, run an' fight for life 
Hold on tight, this ain't my fight