the trench

The trench

The year is 1916 the place is northern France
The time has come to leave the trench, it’s time for our advance
The orders have been sent, from those people you never see
Those people who are miles away, who look down on you and me
And I know I should be frightened, but I’ll glad to get rid of the stench
Of this urine soaked quagmire, that us soldiers call the trench

The first time that I saw it, I couldn’t believe my eyes
It seemed to go on forever, what an enormous size
It looked just like a snake, weaving through the grass
A crack in the earth’s surface, but my awe of it wouldn’t last
That was three months ago, now I can’t stand the stench
Of this rat infested grave, that us soldiers call the trench

I remember my first patrol into the place called no mans land
A piece of dirt betwixt heaven and hell, untouched by god’s own hand
I’d only been gone a few minutes, when I heard a familiar sound
My N.C.O. was lying dead, his brain spilling on the ground
I slowly turned and crawled away, couldn’t wait to get back to the stench
To the place I now call home, that us soldiers call the trench

When I go to sleep at night, for a pillow I use my hat
And I snuggle up with the vermin, and pretend I’m with my cat
I’ve now started to like the cold, to me the cold is nice
It stops my body from itching, it seems to get rid of the lice
Sometimes when I am sitting down, I pretend I’m on a bench
Far away from this awful place, that us soldiers call the trench

The first time the gas came, I didn’t know what to do
My mask had broken weeks ago, so the gas it would get through
Then I remembered what my sergeant said, if this occasion rose
Take off your socks and piss on them and cover your mouth and nose
And that’s exactly what I did, and I didn’t mind the stench
It helped me live another day, in this place we call the trench

I’ve seen it all you know, in the months that I’ve been here
Shell shocked people screaming, people dying of diarrhoea
I’ve seen soldiers die from the gas, as they tried to fill their lungs
Their eyes bulging with the strain, sticking out their purple tongues
I’ve seen- trench foot turn to gangrene, what an awful stench
In this disease riddled place-that us soldiers call the trench

Anyway the whistles been blown, only 3 minutes to go
Before we climb the ladders, lambs to the slaughter don’t you know
And I know we can’t survive, we’ll never reach the Huns
We won’t get ten yards- before we meet their guns
But I say what the hell-it’ll be good to get out of the stench
Away from this god forsaken place-that us soldiers call the trench