But when it's 'Action front!'
And fighting's to be done,
Come one, come all, you stand or fall
By the man who holds the gun.

Who carries the gun?
A lad from a Yorkshire dale.
Then let him go, for well we know
The heart that never will fail.
Here's to the fire of Lancashire,
And here's to her soldier son!
For the hard-bit north has sent him forth -
The lad that carries the gun.

Who carries the gun?
A lad from a Midland shire.
Then let him go, for well we know
He comes of an English sire.
Here's a glass to a Midland lass,
And each can choose the one,
But east and west we claim the best
For the man that carries the gun.

Who carries the gun?
A lad from the hills of Wales.
Then let him go, for well we know,
That Taffy is hard as nails.
There are several ll's in the place where he dwells,
And of w's more than one,
With a 'Llan' and a 'pen,' but it breeds good men,