June 18, 2009
By Adrian Monroe BRONZE, Shoreline, Washington
Adrian Monroe BRONZE, Shoreline, Washington
3 articles 0 photos 0 comments

The fifteen soldiers went marching on toward the town
But all of a sudden bullets took some of them down
Shots rang out from a grove of trees
Bullets whistled by like a hoard of bees

The American soldiers returned the enemy fire
They all soon realized their situation was dire
Several of their bodies littered the ground
The Germans shot at them relentless as hounds

The American captain ordered a retreat
So all the men quickly moved their feet
They all jumped into a ditch
And in it they found a fitch

The fitch ran out onto the battlefield
And was shot at by an Enfield
The Americans set up a machinegun position
The Germans cringed at the new edition

The Americans opened fire on the grove
All the German soldiers dove
Then the grenades came raining in
The blasts tore apart their skin

When the shooting stopped the Americans advanced
One lone German glanced
He was rewarded with death
And mist rose from his escaped breath

Seven of fifteen soldiers dead
Seven letters received while still in bed
Bitter tears were shed
For the boys who were led

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