I confess. And I was reminded of what that would have really been like.
David Goodman, First Cav Door-Gunner, long-time (relative to the occupation) PRCA Saddle Bronc Rider and deep-truth- hunting friend, sent me this glimpse into the Cowboys & Indian Myth-history of our childhood. Imagine being on either side and you can’t get this tune out of your head:

Must Watch this video I bet you recognize the tune! Original lyrics are below the video. You can also find the modern  English lyrics as it has officially become  the song of the 1st Brigade- 1st Cav Division.

General George Armstrong Custer reportedly heard the song among his Irish troops and liked it.

The tune was then played so often the 7th Cavalry became tied to it. In 1867 it was adopted as the official marching song of the Seventh Cavalry. It was the last song played for Custer’s men as they left General Alfred Terry’s column at the Powder River and rode into history by being defeated by the warriors of the Lakota, Cheyenne and Arapaho nations on the morning of 25th June 1876 at the Battle of Little Bighorn.

KP(FYI originally the chorus was “Away with sma’ we’ll drink brown ale..” At the time pubs served “Small Beer” a watered down brew as opposed to ale, the strong stuff. That makes sense, “spa” doesn’t… thanks to whoever pointed that out.  For what the whole song is about, Check this out http://www.us7thcavalry.com/legend.htm

GARRY OWEN LYRICS

Let Bacchus’ sons be not dismayed
But join with me each jovial blade
Come booze and sing and lend your aid
To help me with the chorus

Chorus:
Instead of spa we’ll drink brown ale
And pay the reckoning on the nail
For debt no man shall go to gaol (jail)
From Garryowen in glory

We are the boys that take delight in
Smashing the Limerick lamps when lighting
Through the street like sportsters fighting
And tearing all before us

We’ll break the windows, we’ll break the doors
The watch knock down by threes and fours
Then let the doctors work their cures
And tinker up our bruised

We’ll beat the bailiffs out of fun
We’ll make the mayor and sheriffs run
We are the boys no man dares dun
If he regards a whole skin

Our hearts so stout have got us fame
For soon ’tis known from whence we came
Where’er we go they dread the name
Of Garryowen in glory

Johnny Connell’s tall and straight
And in his limbs he is complete
He’ll pitch a bar of any weight
From Garryowen to Thomondgate

Garryowen is gone to rack
Since Johnny Connell went to Cork
Though Darby O’Brien leapt over the dock
In spite of judge and jury