Battle Cry Poem by Gary G Willmore

Battle Cry

Six thousand soldiers we march through the night
Cold winds and rain keeping the next man in sight

Hitting the wire shells bursting red glare
Praying to God that I'm going to make it there

Charge for the tree line, friends falling away
Digging a mud hole, will this be my grave

Screams all around me, dare I look to see
Sergeant is calling, telling us to keep it true

Firing ahead as I run so afraid
Time has stopped ticking as I fall with great pain

Slow is the battle as I drift far away
Buddy beside me saying you'll be okay

Waiting for medics to carry me away
Only two hundred soldiers made it up there this day