August 2019
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British Army

Through The Mud (poem)


Through The Mud ,

Through The Blood

To The Green Fields Bejond


See the tanks, onward they come.

Clatter clatter, what a hum,

Still the rumble comes more and more,

Like advancing bulls that snort and roar,


Tracks, trunnion wheels, and cranks,

Uproot trees and tear down banks.

On thro waving cornfields, orchards and woods,

Disgracefully turning them into seas of mud.


Mothers solemnly line the street to stand and watch

Is it my husband or my son in the hatch

With a cheery wave from left to right

Could this be the day before the fight.


Turrets turn with angry stares

Pointing their guns everywhere

Iron monsters painted to stop the rust

Now make a pincer move and then a thrust


Tanks are not steeds for the knights of old

A carriage only for men so bold

Decorated with shields of mail,

Their fiercesome fire power makes men quail.


When the tanks begin to move

They have so many things to prove

Deriver left, driver right

Straight forward into the fight .


Onward, onward through the mud,

Advancing onward to shed their blood

Within the crews there are deep bonds

Alas many lie in the green fields beyond.

Sergeant Will GRAY

"A" Squadron23rd Hussars Rgt


Battle of the Ardennes,