To the eternal rhythm of the Copper Kettle
drum, Bom, Bom. Bom, I heard the men
run, their fears always there, aflying
ahead. How not to see their wounds? Or
...
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A stunning write, of things only a soldier can tell, its so moveing, and fills me with sadness and gratitude, Gordon
This is the sad tale of soldiers. When the bugle is sounded and the war cry heard, they march to the battle front defying all their inner fears. They fight face to face with death. Many fall dead and lie still until He sounds His trumpet to bring together the dead and the living for the final reward! A very poignant write! !