Machine guns mowed the slopes with death
In angry bursts which spelled defeat
And blasted by that hated breath
They fall as hail cuts down the wheat
Still stubbornly they press the strife
For well they know their cause is just
They fight for things more dear than life
The rights of men are in their trust
Upwards inch by inch they toil
For die they may but win they must
Now from their steel the foe recoil
Butt Thrust Parry and Thrust
And suddenly they have won their ground
A transient triumph all too fleet
But glory has a hollow sound
That charge with victory complete
Became their haven seldom found
In the bitter bread of self-defeat
