April 6th, 1917 was a historic date in history. President Woodrow Wilson announced to the public via newspaper headlines that America (the “Yanks”) had officially declared war on Germany. Some feared and some rejoiced, but one man reacted differently: he had an iconic tune in his head. That very morning, George Cohan composed the celebrated and enormously successful song throughout the first and second world wars, “Over There” (Cohan "Over There: Steyn's Song of the Week" 2017). The state of the United State’s military before the war was a significant factor in the composition’s commercial expansion. With only about 100,000 registered men in the U.S. Army at the time, President Wilson (as well as the majority of …show more content…
Following the march-like introduction of the tune, Cohan establishes context immediately with the repetitive lyrics, “Johnnie [...] get your gun” and “Take it [...] on the run.” The name Johnnie, in this case, represents American men collectively. “I read those war headlines,” said Cohan after reading the morning newspaper, “and I got to thinking and humming - and for a minute I thought I was going to dance” (Gier, 2017, Pages 38-39). He derives the opening lyrics “Johnnie [...] get your gun” from the 1886 minstrel hit Johnny Get Your Gun. Composed by Monroe Rosenfeld, the piece depicts the boundless conflict between good and …show more content…
Cohan frequently uses titles, lyrics and semantic gestures from past works in new pieces — Over There was no exception. “Hoist the flag and let her fly. Yankee Doodle do or die!” reintroduces his previous hit, Yankee Doodle. Interestingly, the echoing of former works was not intended for financial gain; Cohan assigned all of the royalties from the song to war charities.
Ending the second verse, Cohan struck the heart of an overwhelmingly Protestant nation at the time with the lyrics, “Make your mother proud of you.” Symbolic of the Virgin Mary (the “Mother”), it fit perfectly into Western ideology. Recapitulating the diminished VII of VII passing chord, the chromaticism demonstrates the face of war: a grieving mother. This concept of lamenting is parallel in the first verse of the song, “Tell your sweetheart not to pine.” On May 26th, Nora Bayes, an old friend of Cohan, performed the work unannounced at the 39th Street Theater. The performance was wildly successful and led to Cohan’s labeling as “the man who made Broadway famous.” By the end of 1917, the song had such popularity that it’s publisher, Robert Benchley, was offered $25,000 in cash (nearly $5,000,000 today) by well-known publisher Leo Feist for the work. Benchley accepted and Feist successfully paid off the debt and started churning out a profit before the month was