THE CROSSES GROW ON ANZIO
Oh, gather ’round me, comrades; and listen while I speak
Of a war, a war, a war where hell is six feet deep.
Along the shore, the cannons roar. Oh how can a soldier sleep?
The going’s slow on Anzio. And hell is six feet deep.
Praise be to God for this captured sod that rich with blood does seep.
With yours and mine, like butchered swine’s; and hell is six feet deep.
That death awaits there’s no debate; no triumph will we reap.
The crosses grow on Anzio, where hell is six feet deep.
ALONE AND FAR REMOVED
Alone and far removed from earthly care
The noble ruins of men lie buried here.
You were strong men, good men
Endowed with youth and much the will to live
I hear no protest from the mute lips of the dead.
They rest; there is no more to give.
So long my comrades,
Sleep ye where you fell upon the field.
But tread softly please
March o’er my heart with ease
March on and on,
But to God alone we kneel.
FREEDOM FLIES IN YOUR HEART LIKE AN EAGLE
Dusty old helmet, rusty old gun,
They sit in the corner and wait –
Two souvenirs of the Second World War That have withstood the time, and the hate.
Mute witness to a time of much trouble.
Where kill or be killed was the law –
Were these implements used with high honor?
What was the glory they saw?
Many times I’ve wanted to ask them
And now that we’re here all alone,
Relics all three of a long ago war –
Where has freedom gone?
flies in your heart like an eagle.
Let it soar with the winds high above
Among the spirits of soldiers now sleeping,
Guard it with care and with love.
I salute my old friends in the corner,
I agree with all they have said
And if the moment of truth comes tomorrow,
I’ll be free, or By God, I’ll be dead!