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Battle Of Belleau Wood

IT was thick with Prussian troopers, it was foul with German guns;
Every tree that cast a shadow was a sheltering place for Huns.
Death was guarding every roadway, death was watching every field,
And behind each rise of terrain was a rapid-fire concealed
But Uncle Sam's Marines had orders: 'Drive the Boche from where they're hid.
For the honor of Old Glory, take the woods!' and so they did.

I fancy none will tell it as the story should be told-
None will ever do full justice to those Yankee troopers bold.
How they crawled upon their stomachs through the fields of golden wheat

With the bullets spitting at them in that awful battle heat.
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COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Sriya Patoju 13 January 2020

This poem makes the Battle of Belleau sound like a death trap. I can only infer that many lives were lost and that it was a battle.

0 1 Reply
Chungus amongus 13 May 2021

I don't like you very much.

0 0 Reply

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