And here we hold for now
Ordered to dig, stand, fight
As flowing fields of grain yield
Assault of boundless might
As the enemy bursts forth
With its piercing steel reserve
Night will stow our matched retort
Their force be matched to strike the nerve
The calming kiss of summer winds
As they dance from tree to tree
Belies the sight of Belleau Wood
Plagued by lost humanity
Through waves of boundless charge
Six in turn with bullets’ gale
The dead, our fees for war’s success
The wood is held, to what avail?
Through the wheat with bayonets fixed to strike
Pierce their flesh with no remorse, go forthright
Behold the sight of Belleau Wood
The dead grace the ground where we once stood
The calming kiss of summer winds
As they dance from tree to tree
Belies the sight of Belleau Wood
Plagued by lost humanity