Heading through Europe, damp cloth for a bed
Winter descends just to add to our pain
Shivering, thinking of what lies ahead
Wonder if I will get back home again.
Feeling the cold as we enter the mire
Hauling the gun through the mud and the muck
Setting up quickly and ready to fire
Incoming shells and we all have to duck.
Some of our friends have been hit by a blast
We rush to their aid as we hear their cries
They’re chilled to the bone and losing blood fast
In the cold muddy field, one of them dies.
I hate the winter and that is for sure
This terrible war I hate even more.