| In the gnawing bite of winter;
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| The winds, bone chilling, howl
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| Pale skies of swirling snowflakes
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| Lay a shroud upon the ground
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| To a scarred and shattered landscape
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| Some brief dignity is shown
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| Where the dead remain unburied
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| On the dark and blood-stained earth
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| The fronts inch slowly forward the battalions follow on
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| The new blood marches to the Caissons song
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| Strangers fill the spaces join the beleaguered rank and file
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| Resigned to further battles further up the line
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| But the ground will be retaken, the offensives bogging down
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| Countering attacks they stall and fail
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| The stalemate still continued and the guns still took their toll
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| And the generals counted casualties as the soldiers vainly fell
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| It had to end, the armies broken
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| One side had lost but who had won
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| The ravaged land, the decimation
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| So hard to bear, the loss and pain
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| The men returned, the war was over
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| The bells rang out, a country cheered
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| Behind their eyes they stored the horrors
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| Behind their smiles they hid their fears
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| The medals and the honours were handed out to those who served
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| The letters of condolences were kept
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| Reminding generations of the sacrifices made
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| The suffering and the torment
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| Of the men most never knew, lest we forget |