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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