Over the Top

The men in the trenches stood waiting, each minute seemed like a year,
But the dawn in the East was breaking, and the time was drawing near.
Each man was impatient and nervous, like horses that champ at the bit;
And every one was iron to the core and all of them ready and fit.
Fit for the red heat of battle, fit to go over the top;
To fling at the foe defiance, and fight till at last they drop.

But there's the sound of the whistle, high and shrill in its blast.
So up and over and at them, an avenging wave of death
You fight for a cause that is just and true, so fight to your dying breath.
And when you die in the battlefield you have not died in vain,
The ones that come behind you will carry your banner again.

Charging across the wasteland as a new day breaks in the sky,
You'll be driving the enemy backward, and they're leaving their dead as they fly.
Routing them out of the trenches waking them out of their sleep,
Watching the lions of yesterday turning today into sheep.
Again we've tasted a victory, the drive went off as was planned.
And now we'll rest in the trenches of this newly conquered land.

E.G.C. Richards