It started with the sound of
Hooves on the cobblestones.
"The Archduke of Austria-Hungary
Has been assasinated," they said.
"The German Empire has declared
War on Serbia with its ally."
We were elated at the chance to
Fulfil our patriotic dreams, and so
We marched off to war, the sound
Of our boots and horses' hooves
Echoing on the streets long after
Our departure. Then came the trenches.
We never started out war-weary;
The endless grey skies and barren
Desolence of the shell-pocked
Plains did that. Then came the disease,
The filth, the death. They told us
Fliers were our friends. Maybe
For shooting down enemy Schlastastaffeln
And bombers, nothing else. Nothing
Seemed to be our friends in this
Forsaken place. And so we listened to
Lies. Until it finally ended in the last
Thundering of artillery fire. When we
Who had survived returned home, everything was different.
And it was never the same again.