Robert W. Service
I’m goin’ ‘ome to Blighty—ain’t I glad to ‘ave the chance!
I’m loaded up wiv fightin’, and I’ve ‘ad my fill o’ France;
I’m feelin’ so excited-like, I want to sing and dance,
For I’m goin’ ‘ome to Blighty in the mawnin’.
I’m goin’ ‘ome to Blighty: can you wonder as I’m gay?
I’ve got a wound I wouldn’t sell for ‘alf a year o’ pay;
A harm that’s mashed to jelly in the nicest sort o’ way,
For it takes me ‘ome to Blighty in the mawnin’.
‘Ow everlastin’ keen I was on gettin’ to the front!
I’d ginger for a dozen, and I ‘elped to bear the brunt;
But Cheese and Crust! I’m crazy, now I’ve done me little stunt,
To sniff the air of Blighty in the mawnin’.
I’ve looked upon the wine that’s white, and on the wine that’s red;
I’ve looked on cider flowin’, till it fairly turned me ‘ead;
But oh, the finest scoff will be, when all is done and said,
A pint o’ Bass in Blighty in the mawnin’.
I’m goin’ back to Blighty, which I left to strafe the ‘Un;
I’ve fought in bloody battles, and I’ve ‘ad a ‘eap of fun;
But now me flipper’s busted, and I think me dooty’s done,
And I’ll kiss me gel in Blighty in the mawnin’.
Oh, there be furrin’ lands to see, and some of ’em be fine;
And there be furrin’ gels to kiss, and scented furrin’ wine;
But there’s no land like England, and no other gel like mine:
Thank Gawd for dear old Blighty in the mawnin’.
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Analysis (AI Assisted)
This poem has a lively, almost jolly feel to it, which is surprising given the context—it’s about a soldier returning home from war. The narrator seems so eager, so thrilled by the idea of returning to “Blighty,” a term for Britain, that even the pain of his wound is put in a positive light. There’s a sense of relief and escape, as though the horrors of war are suddenly outweighed by the prospect of home.
The poem’s casual tone and repetitive structure add to the feeling of excitement, almost as if the speaker can’t quite contain his joy at the thought of going back to a more comfortable, familiar world. The constant refrain, “I’m goin’ ‘ome to Blighty in the mawnin’,” is almost like a song, echoing the narrator’s eager anticipation, as if the thought of being back in England is enough to make everything else fade away.
It’s interesting, though, how the speaker mixes his joy with a touch of irony. He mentions his wound, “a harm that’s mashed to jelly,” which seems to be a source of pride for him, almost like a badge of honor. It’s strange how something so horrific—being injured in battle—is framed in such a positive light, as if it’s the ticket to getting away from the front lines. It makes you think about the complex relationship soldiers have with both war and the idea of coming home.
The references to “wine that’s white” and “cider flowin’,” and especially the desire for a pint of Bass beer, show a kind of yearning for simple pleasures, something that’s far from the grim realities of war. It’s clear that the soldier is looking forward to a kind of normality, a return to peace, where he can savor the little things that make life worthwhile.
There’s also a touch of nostalgia and patriotism in the lines about England. The speaker looks at foreign lands, with their “scented furrin’ wine” and “furrin’ gels,” but he remains loyal to Blighty, his home. Even after all he’s seen and done, the soldier finds something uniquely comforting about England, and the idea of kissing “me gel in Blighty” symbolizes a return to a simpler, more cherished life.
What stands out in this poem is the combination of joy and trauma, presented in a way that’s not melodramatic but rather matter-of-fact. The speaker’s excitement is palpable, yet underneath it, there’s a hint of something darker—a soldier who has seen too much but now craves peace and normality. The poem captures the complexity of returning home after war, where the relief of being back can’t erase the violence and injury that came before, but still, the soldier embraces the comfort of home with open arms.