In the dead of night
With the lack of sight,
The blackness conceals the real fright.
Back in Blighty life was so bright,
Loved ones near, full of cheer.
The fog of war descends upon us all;
Neither friend nor foe can tell us why,
But within us our duty lies.
Woken daily not by cockerel crow,
But mortar, sniper fire and machine gun roar,
And the deadliest of all the sounds;
The scream of Gas! Gas! Gas!
As morning breaks, another day awaits
Of life as we know it now.
Sharing our clothes and beds with rats and lice,
And diseases unknown.
The mud is red in colour,
And fallen comrades lay where they fell.
Their grave now our home,
For this short time until the whistle blast for us to charge.
The first strike of a match, my attention you catch,
With the second light, now you’re in my sight
On the third, a shot will be heard.
As the whistle blows, over we flow
As the flare shows the way,
Darkness appears almost as day.
As the sun of a new day rises
Some of us will not rise with it,
But forever lay beneath it.
The last advance same as any other;
With no clear sign of cover,
Each day gets tougher and tougher
Just like the fight gets rougher and rougher.
We think we’re better than anyone else
But truthfully we stand together,
All the forces come as one to defend everyone.
Always remembered, never forgotten,
You are our heroes, especially the fallen.