Breath plumes in the chill
Of the morning still
When suddenly, harsh whistles blow
Shrilly breaking the silence
And then the order comes
It’s time to advance
So, over the top go the lads
Clambering out of the trench
To stride with purpose
Towards the enemy line
When the machine guns
Speak their deadly greeting
And their body’s fall
On the scarred
And blood-stained land
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