Whistles blow, bayonets sharp,
Out of our trenches we head,
Climbing and slipping our way to the top
Then over with courage and dread.
Under barbed wire past mine and our dead
“Onwards!” we shout as we fall, then
Squelching and slithering through mud and debris
Relentlessly forwards we crawl.
Amid onslaught of bullet and stench of fear
Advancing onwards we press,
Past wounded friend and dying foe,
Our horror and fears we repress.
Into hell through whooshing shells
Into the field of gore, we
Stagger past pleading men all mothers' sons
Some to live no more.
But bravely we charge the young and the old
All sanity left behind,
Past cannon fodder of arms and legs,
Our humanity combined.
Great sacrifice we make on this awful field
of pointless hate and doom,
When all we want is this to end, peace to fall,
Instead of men charging to their tombs.
When all we want is this to end, peace to fall,
Instead of men charging to their tombs.
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