Through blackened sky the blazing missiles fly;

projectiles screaming down to pound our shield.

The raging sound can't drown our battle cry:

"We'll never yield! We'll never cede this field!"

 

Our precious tract attacked, by fate begrudged.

We'll not go back, we stand where strength has stood.

Our valour born of soil and sweat: a sludge;

a thick and ruddy mud of earth and blood.

 

We fend off every brutal salvo thrown

by nature's forces; we are not coerced.

Entrenched until the firestorm has blown,

enduring 'til that bitch has done its worst.

 

Engaged armada in a sea of shells,

our unit floats a lake of mortar swells.