We walked into the field of poppies,
running hard forward and beyond.
We killed our opponents left and right of us,
and brought victory to this field, and yet we
could not cheer victory.
The death of sons of the other,
enemies we are told by command.
Death raised its horrid hand that day
and brought death to this land.
Why are we here, and why must we die
horrible death in the mud and slim.
Can we return to our land
without this stench and evil feeling upon us?
Can we survive the challenges ahead?
What do we fight and die for is asked by all?
Of course its for our mates that follow behind and before us
that live and die for us as warriors should.
Soldiers we are, and we have but ourselves to uplift this day.
To fight and die for country, family and friend,
its the one beside us that most plain,
we give our all for our mates this horrible day.