One Hundred and Sixty or Two-Thirds of Them all...

“Cannon fodder!” Yelled Lieutenant Lynch,
Standing amid the blows.
“You’re all doomed to die in this bastard trench!”
He yelled to the timid cowering below.

“Advance, at once!” Ordered the man,
Pointing his finger in vain.
“Advance, Goddamn you! Do you not understand?”
“The moment is now, to do what you’ve trained!”

The wintery earth ‘neath his feet
Tremored and moaned with the blasts.
All of the men remained dug in deep
Refusing to move: retreat or advance.

“If none shall attack the German’s trench,”
“I’ll shoot every weak heart with ease!”
“I swear to the Lord!” cried Lieutenant Lynch,
As he stood on the walls making his plea.

The night became day with every air burst.
And the mustard gas began its flow
The ground quenched its gluttonous thirst
With the blood of young men; Dunkirk to Menehould.

“THIS IS MUNITY!” claimed the young lad,
Shooting a fist towards the sky.
“You are all shameful, pathetic, and sad!”
“Which one of you then shall be the first to die?”

As the Lieutenant assumed a malicious pose,
The troops eyed none but each other.
Their faces – worn and dirty – just froze
At the thought of loosing another platoon brother.

Among the meek came forth a man
Willing to face the aggressor.
“My name is David and ready I am”
“To sacrifice myself for the lesser.”

“Now, just a minute…” Paused Lynch
Eyeing the man climbing the wall.
“You’d rather be shot than breach the trench”
“In front of your comrades and all?”

“This victory is planned only in vain…”
“You know it as good as I.”
“No man has ever been trained…”
“To willingly advance and willingly die.”

The officer heard young David’s words,
But knew the orders he held.
The commanding generals directed two-thirds
Of the Battalion’s men to sidetrack the shells.

“One Hundred and sixty shall attack their ranks,”
“Distracting the main German line.”
“Thus allowing the remaining one-third to flank”
“Gaining a foothold for the following in time.”

“I have no more patience! And no more time!”
Cried out the Lieutenant to all.
“I do not agree, but the decision’s not mine!”
“Our charge is to CHARGE, triumph or fall!”

The officer now held David at the neck,
And started upholstering his gun.
“I’ll shoot him first and YOU and YOU next!”
“If you do not do what is to be done!”

The troops in turn began to plead
With the lieutenant throughout his fuss.
“Your pistol holds six, don’t YOU see,”
“That’s far from enough to kill all of us.”

Lieutenant Lynch knew they were right,
And understood there was no win.
His eyes stung and throat became tight
As his head began to violently spin.

One by one, each soldier in turn,
Dropped and shook in the mud.
Their mouths frothed and their lungs burned
As venomous gases began to flood.

One hundred and sixty or two-thirds of all
Never left the trenches that day.
Some say they were cowards and willing to fall
Instead of taking their chances in a heroic way.

Fail to cast judgment and analyze the trench,
And never say “If I were with them…”
For to this very day still in the mud and the stench,
A young Lieutenant argues life with his men.