T.A. Girling, 'The Battle'

[duathir.livejournal.com]

The Battle

They are packed in the fresh-made trenches,
They have swallowed their ration of rum,
And they wait for the final signal,
For the zero hour has come.

They are there in the order of battle,
With ground-sheet and haversack,
Cartridges, rations and water,
And a shovel slung over the back.

The bayonets are fixed on the rifles,
The gas-masks are on the alert,
The Mills' grenades are handy,
So they scramble up over the dirt, and it's

Over the top to victory,
Over the top to pain,
Over the top where the H.E.'s drop
And the hissing bullets rain.

Stout hearts must keep them steady
And quiet their nerve-racked frames,
For they're willing and eager and ready
With a courage that other men shames.

All the world seems flung into chaos,
Full of crashing and humming and glare,
Solid earth and poor mangled creatures
Leap suddenly high in the air.

There are flares of artillery signals,
Dense smoke-clouds and pillars of flame,
But the long khaki line moves forward
With a valour no terrors can tame.

There's the short death-space to cover
Till they get to grips with the foe,
And the barrage is moving forward ;
So over the top they go.

Over the top to battle,
Over the top to kill,
Over the top as their comrades drop,
But they keep advancing still.

There's death in a hundred places
They must pass ere the goal is won,
But there's grim resolve in their faces
For the deadly work to be done.

There's no time for thoughts of the future,
But all the good in their lives
Is spent in one swift memory
Of mother, and children, and wives.
Then on with a courage unmeasured

To face, as they ne'er did before,
The barbarous modern inventions
That substitute murder for war.

The pride and strength of the nation,
Free offered at liberty's call,
True sons of the heroes that built her,
Pass over to conquer or fall.

Over the top for freedom,
Over the top for right,
Over the top with never a stop
To the goal that is always in sight.

The vanguard of honour, life-giving,
Defenders of all we hold dear,
God guard them in dying and living,
Our bravest and best that pass here!

by T.A. Girling
llth July, 1917.