An Infectious Little Ditty

I grew up watching war movies. And one I particularly loved was Bridge on the River Kwai. I love it when the best plans of the enemy are thwarted by a devious bunch of Allies who get in the way of the enemy's progress.

It's a 1957 movie, directed by David Lean, starring William Holden, Alec Guinness, Jack Hawkins and Sessue Hayakawa. It's only missing Trevor Howard, Robert Ryan, Steve McQueen, Lee Marvin and James Garner. No matter.

It's a POW movie about the British soldiers interred in hot, very hot Burma, held prisoner by the Japanese. The plot revolves around not escaping, but rather being put to recreational work building the sturdiest railroad bridge possible from bamboo over the river, and then putting it to unintended use.

The British are lead into the prison camp by their very unflappable, stiff upper lip commander played by Alec Guinness, marching in step, waving their arms, and whistling an infectious little tune that no one ever knew there were actual lyrics to. And once you hear those lyrics you can never, ever watch that scene again without singing to yourself:

Hitler, has only got one ball,
Göering has two, but very small.
Himmler, is somewhat sim'lar,
But poor Göebbels has no balls at all.

It's true. There's way more than just whistling going on there. Someone objected vigorously to having the prisoners march into the camp singing the lyrics, so they whistle the lyrics. The theme became a big hit for Mitch Miller, for whom you would expect to be at the center of a large group of people whistling. Even Leonard Bernstein recorded the march.

There is of course history behind Colonel Bogey's March, and the name has nothing to do with the British commander, but rather a shot over par in that confounding game of golf. The ditty was written in 1914, but the lyrics that caught up with it were penned in 1939 as a British satire on the German command. Is there more? Yes.

Hitler, has only got one ball,
The other is in Albert Hall.
His mother, the dirty bugger,
Cut his off when he was small.

You can certainly understand why the British prisoners might be whistling (singing) the lyrics as they are marched into a prison camp, even if is a Japanese camp.

So what brings this up? Something that always reminds me of something else. What else?

There's been a recent seven-part Netflix series called Transatlantic about the true efforts of Americans and other resistance patriots working in Marseille managing to get 2,000 Jews out of the country in 1940 to safety over the border to Spain and Portugal, and then to America. The effort was run by Varian Fry, a 1930 Harvard graduate who was openly hostile to the Nazis and even the uncommitted American politicians in trying to get the refuges out of France, even if it was the part of unoccupied France. The Vichy government was seen as Nazi collaborators.

Fry had the ear of Eleanor Roosevelt, and entered Marseille with a list of people he wanted to help, writers, artists, and other intellectuals. Aiding him was an American heiress, Maryjane Gold, from Chicago, wealthy from her father's radiator business. Together they helped notables get out of the reach of the Nazis. Max Enrst, Marc Chagall, Heinrich Mann, Hannah Arendt, Marcel Duchamp, Alma Mahler, Gustav Mahler's former wife, were amongst those who benefitted from the ERC's efforts..  

Varian Fry headed the Emergency Rescue Committee (ERC). If Varian seems to be a first name you never heard of you only have to read the 1950 engagement notice in the NYT mentioning he was the son of Mr. And Mrs. Arthur Varian Fry. Oddly, the notice doesn't even mention his work with the ERC.

The Netflix series received a lot of press for its story and the co-creator Anna Winger who became obsessed over the Fry, ERC narrative.

The series is well-acted, lushly filmed on location in Marseille, and has more than one moment of hilarity in it. The 1940 timeline informs you to the world of politics prior to the United States entering the war, which of course only happened after the Japanese bombed Pearl Harbor in December 1941. Prior to that, there was a lot of ambivalence and apathy toward what was happening in Europe.

There was a hotel in Marseille that was used by the ERC as sort of as a stop on its underground railroad to house the refuges prior to arranging for their exfiltration. One of these refuges would never be a household name to Americans, but was someone who the Nazi's considered a huge pain-in-the-ass because of his criticism of the German regime. Walter Mehring passed away in 1981 at 85, and the NYT described him as when he was in his 20s he was hugely popular for his caustic Expressionist style reflected in his songs, poems and plays. 

Mehring is secreted into the hotel Hôtel Splendide. He's a kinetic guy who can't sit still. There is an absolutely hilarious scene where he starts marching around his small hotel room gathering props and singing..."Hitler, has only got one ball..." No wonder the Nazis hate this guy. He knows the lyrics.

I didn't immediately make The Bridge on the River  Kwai connection. But the lyrics, where have I heard them before? (The Man in the High Castle) Did Mehring write them?

No, he didn't write them, but there have been several recordings of the music with all the lyrics, and I happened, for whatever reason, previously downloaded a version sung by John Jones that occasionally surfaces on random play when I have the iPod on the workshop.

More Google, and You Tube searches yielded a skit by the British comedy team of Armstrong and Miller that gives us an additional rhyme in its skit "...Göering's prick is so full of diseases/That's why he has to piss with tweezers..."

Walter Mehring's NYT obit tells us he was a warehouse administrator on Long Island but returned to Europe in 1953, living in seclusion in West Germany and Switzerland.

I'm sure he never forgot the words.

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