Sounding of the mighty drums as the brave march off into the setting sun.
Boys soon to become men or turn and run…for rockets flare and bugles
blare as the stars and bars wave gloriously in the smoked filled air.
Bugles play as glittering swords are drawn, buttons of brass and white
feathered plumes adorn the shiny helmets worn. Horses gait to a steady
hand of each disciplined Calvary man.
The Sergeant orders…"Charge!" and the gray mass quickly advance,
each with the call of the Rebel Yell, into the jaws of hell they ride
while blue pickets take deadly aim and fire upon command.
The cannons roar, as two hundred boys in men's uniforms
fall dead or dying upon the Autumn floor.
For flag and country they paid the ultimate price.
There's blood on the saddles and upon the ground,
for they've died in vain as they've lost the roll of the dice.
They lay forever in fields of white clover, under stones
of granite as silent reminders…
That War is Hell!