I lived a story,
In a bloody dream.
A fight for glory,
In a running stream.
The roaring sound,
Of rapid fire,
Onto the ground,
Good men retire.

I hear the screams,
Of wounded men.
Just from my team,
A score and ten.
The smell of death,
Did fill the air.
With every breath,
I feel despair.

The sergeant calls,
To all the boys,
To stand their ground,
And ignore the noise.
The enemys hand,
Can’t take our souls.
With pride we stand,
When duty calls.