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February 6, 1918 - "Over There" American war song

Don Martin diary entry for Wednesday, February 6, 1918: 
Got up a little earlier today to get breakfast before the crowded lunch hour. Went to office and wrote a labor story I had told Baird to do. He is the prize bonehead surely enough. How he has managed to keep out of a home for undeveloped creatures is a mystery to me. Wrote a letter to Mr. Bennett in Beaulieu about expenses. 
Charlie Wheeler has gone to Darling to commute. Good idea to get out of air raid zone. Had dinner at Simpson’s. Saw Gen. Maurice [Director of Military Operations at the War Office] in p.m. Also saw war relics and photos in Royal Academy. They make our Civil War remnants look pretty insignificant. At office for hour or two this evening. Sat in Savoy restaurant with Kelly and Brownell and listened to the orchestra play “Over There,” which is now the popular war song.

Weather pleasant till evening – then rain.

      George M. Cohen wrote the patriotic song "Over There" in 1917   to galvanize American young men to enlist in the army and fight the "Hun". The song is best remembered for a line in its chorus, "The Yanks are coming." The lyrics are :
Johnnie, get your gun, get your gun, get your gun
Take it on the run, on the run, on the run
Hear them calling, you and me, every son of liberty
Hurry right away, no delay, go today
Make your daddy glad, to have had such a lad
Tell your sweetheart not to pine, to be proud her boy's in line
Over there, over there
Send the word, send the word over there
That the Yanks are coming
The Yanks are coming
The drums rum-tumming
Everywhere
So prepare, say a prayer
Send the word, send the word to beware
We'll be over, we're coming over
And we won't come back till it's over
Over there
Johnnie, get your gun, get your gun, get your gun
Johnnie show the Hun who's a son of a gun
Hoist the flag and let her fly, Yankee Doodle do or die
Pack your little kit, show your grit, do your bit
Yankee to the ranks,  from the towns and the tanks
Make your mother proud of you, and the old Red, White and Blue
Over there, over there
Send the word, send the word over there
That the Yanks are coming
The Yanks are coming
The drums rum-tumming
Everywhere
So prepare, say a prayer
Send the word, send the word to beware
We'll be over, we're coming over
And we won't come back till it's over
Over there

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