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Best Famous Death Or Glory Poems

Here is a collection of the all-time best famous Death Or Glory poems. This is a select list of the best famous Death Or Glory poetry. Reading, writing, and enjoying famous Death Or Glory poetry (as well as classical and contemporary poems) is a great past time. These top poems are the best examples of death or glory poems.

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Written by Robert William Service | Create an image from this poem

A Song Of The Sandbags

 No, Bill, I'm not a-spooning out no patriotic tosh
 (The cove be'ind the sandbags ain't a death-or-glory cuss).
And though I strafes 'em good and 'ard I doesn't 'ate the Boche, I guess they're mostly decent, just the same as most of us.
I guess they loves their 'omes and kids as much as you or me; And just the same as you or me they'd rather shake than fight; And if we'd 'appened to be born at Berlin-on-the-Spree, We'd be out there with 'Ans and Fritz, dead sure that we was right.
A-standin' up to the sandbags It's funny the thoughts wot come; Starin' into the darkness, 'Earin' the bullets 'um; (Zing! Zip! Ping! Rip! 'ark 'ow the bullets 'um!) A-leanin' against the sandbags Wiv me rifle under me ear, Oh, I've 'ad more thoughts on a sentry-go Than I used to 'ave in a year.
I wonder, Bill, if 'Ans and Fritz is wonderin' like me Wot's at the bottom of it all? Wot all the slaughter's for? 'E thinks 'e's right (of course 'e ain't) but this we both agree, If them as made it 'ad to fight, there wouldn't be no war.
If them as lies in feather beds while we kips in the mud; If them as makes their fortoons while we fights for 'em like 'ell; If them as slings their pot of ink just 'ad to sling their blood: By Crust! I'm thinkin' there 'ud be another tale to tell.
Shiverin' up to the sandbags, With a hicicle 'stead of a spine, Don't it seem funny the things you think 'Ere in the firin' line: (Whee! Whut! Ziz! Zut! Lord! 'ow the bullets whine!) Hunkerin' down when a star-shell Cracks in a sputter of light, You can jaw to yer soul by the sandbags Most any old time o' night.
They talks o' England's glory and a-'oldin' of our trade, Of Empire and 'igh destiny until we're fair flim-flammed; But if it's for the likes o' that that bloody war is made, Then wot I say is: Empire and 'igh destiny be damned! There's only one good cause, Bill, for poor blokes like us to fight: That's self-defence, for 'earth and 'ome, and them that bears our name; And that's wot I'm a-doin' by the sandbags 'ere to-night.
.
.
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But Fritz out there will tell you 'e's a-doin' of the same.
Starin' over the sandbags, Sick of the 'ole damn thing; Firin' to keep meself awake, 'Earin' the bullets sing.
(Hiss! Twang! Tsing! Pang! Saucy the bullets sing.
) Dreamin' 'ere by the sandbags Of a day when war will cease, When 'Ans and Fritz and Bill and me Will clink our mugs in fraternity, And the Brotherhood of Labour will be The Brotherhood of Peace.


Written by William Topaz McGonagall | Create an image from this poem

The Battle of Atbara

 Ye Sons of Great Britain, pray list to me,
And I'll tell ye of a great victory.
Where the British defeated the Dervishes, without delay, At the Battle of Atbara, without dismay.
The attack took place, 'twas on the 8th of April, in the early morning dawn, And the British behaved manfully to a man; And Mahmud's front was raked fearfully, before the assault began, By the disposition of the force under Colonel Long : Because the cannonading of their guns was very strong.
The main attack was made by General Gatacre's British Brigade, And a heroic display they really made; And General Macdonald's and General Maxwell's Brigade looked very fine, And the Cameron Highlanders were extended along the line.
And behind them came the Lincolnshire Regiment, on the right, And the Seaforth Highlanders in the centre, 'twas a most gorgeous sight, And the Warwickshire Regiment were on the left, And many of the Dervishes' heads by them were cleft.
General Macdonald's Brigade was on the right centre in similar formation, And the 9th Battalion also in line in front rotation; Then the whole force arrived about four o'clock, And each man's courage was as firm as the rock.
At first the march was over a ridge of gravel, But it didn't impede the noble heroes' travel; No, they were as steady as when marching in the valley below, And each man was eager to attack the foe.
And as the sun shone out above the horizon, The advancing army, with banners flying, came boldly marching on; The spectacle was really imposing to see, And a dead silence was observed throughout the whole army.
Then Colonel Murray addressed the Seaforth Highlanders, and said, "Come now my lads, don't be afraid, For the news of the victory must be in London to-night, So ye must charge the enemy with your bayonets, left and right.
" General Gatacre also delivered a stirring address, Which gave courage to the troops, I must confess: He told the troops to drive the Dervishes into the river, And go right through the zereba, and do not shiver.
Then the artillery on the right opened fire with shrapnel and percussion shell, Whereby many of the Dervishes were wounded and fell, And the cannonading raked the whole of the Dervishes' camp, and did great execution, Which to Mahmud and his followers has been a great retribution.
Then the artillery ceased fire, and the bugles sounded the advance, And the Cameron Highlanders at the enemy were eager to get a chance; So the pipers struck up the March of the Cameron Men, Which reminded them of the ancient Camerons marching o'er mountain and glen.
The business of this regiment was to clear the front with a rifle fire, Which to their honour, be it said, was their greatest desire; Then there was a momentary pause until they reached the zereba, Then the Dervishes opened fire on them, but it did not them awe.
And with their pipes loudly sounding, and one ringing cheer, Then the Cameron Highlanders soon did the zereba clear.
And right through the Dervish camp they went without dismay, And scattered the Dervishes across the desert, far, far away.
Then the victory was complete, and the British gave three cheers, While adown their cheeks flowed burning tears For the loss of their commanders and comrades who fell in the fray, Which they will remember for many a day.
Captain Urquhart's last words were "never mind me my lads, fight on," While, no doubt, the Cameron Highlanders felt woebegone For the loss of their brave captain, who was foremost in the field, Death or glory was his motto, rather than yield.
There have been 4,000 prisoners taken, including Mahmud himself, Who is very fond of dancing girls, likewise drink and pelf; Besides 3,000 of his followers have been found dead, And the living are scattered o'er the desert with their hearts full of dread.
Long life and prosperity to the British army, May they always be able to conquer their enemies by land and by sea, May God enable them to put their enemies to flight, And to annihilate barbarity, and to establish what is right.
Written by William Topaz McGonagall | Create an image from this poem

The Battle of Abu Klea

 Ye sons of Mars, come join with me,
And sing in praise of Sir Herbert Stewart's little army,
That made ten thousand Arabs flee
At the charge of the bayonet at Abu Klea.
General Stewart's force was about fifteen hundred all told, A brave little band, but, like lions bold, They fought under their brave and heroic commander, As gallant and as skilful as the great Alexander.
And the nation has every reason to be proud, And in praise of his little band we cannot speak too loud, Because that gallant fifteen hundred soon put to flight Ten thousand Arabs, which was a most beautiful sight.
The enemy kept up a harmless fire all night, And threw up works on General Stewart's right; Therefore he tried to draw the enemy on to attack, But they hesitated, and through fear drew back.
But General Stewart ordered his men forward in square, All of them on foot, ready to die and to dare; And he forced the enemy to engage in the fray, But in a short time they were glad to run away.
But not before they penetrated through the British square, Which was a critical moment to the British, I declare, Owing to the great number of the Arabs, Who rushed against their bayonets and received fearful stabs.
Then all was quiet again until after breakfast, And when the brave little band had finished their repast, Then the firing began from the heights on the right, From the breastworks they had constructed during the night; By eight o'clock the enemy was of considerable strength, With their banners waving beautifully and of great length, And creeping steadily up the grassy road direct to the wells, But the British soon checked their advance by shot and shells.
At ten o'clock brave General Stewart made a counter-attack, Resolved to turn the enemy on a diferent track; And he ordered his men to form a hollow square, Placing the Guards in the front, and teeing them to prepare.
And on the left was the Mounted Infantry, Which truly was a magnificent sight to see; Then the Sussex Regiment was on the right, And the Heavy Cavalry and Naval Brigade all ready to fight.
Then General Stewart took up a good position on a slope, Where he guessed the enemy could not with him cope, Where he knew the rebels must advance, All up hill and upon open ground, which was his only chance.
Then Captain Norton's battery planted shells amongst the densest mass, Determined with shot and shell the enemy to harass; Then carne the shock of the rebels against the British square, While the fiendish shouts of the Arabs did rend the air.
But the steadiness of the Guards, Marines, and Infantry prevailed, And for the loss of their brother officers they sadly bewailed, Who fell mortally wounded in the bloody fray, 'Which they will remember for many a long day.
For ten minutes a desperate struggle raged from left to rear While Gunner Smith saved Lieutenant guthrie's life without dread or fear; When all the other gunners had been borne back, He took up a handspike, and the Arabs he did whack.
The noble hero hard blows did strike, As he swung round his head the handspike; He seemed like a destroying angel in the midst of the fight The way he scattered the Arabs left and right.
Oh! it was an exciting and terrible sight, To see Colonel Burnaby engaged in the fight: With sword in hand, fighting with might and main, Until killed by a spear-thrust in the jugular vein.
A braver soldier ne'er fought on a battle-field, Death or glory was his motto, rather than yield; A man of noble stature and manly to behold, And an honour to his country be it told.
It was not long before every Arab in the square was killed.
And with a dense smoke and dust the air was filled; General Stewart's horse was shot, and he fell to the ground.
In the midst of shot and shell on every side around.
And when the victory was won they gave three British cheers.
While adown their cheeks flowed many tears For their fallen comrades that lay weltering in their gore; Then the square was re-formed, and the battle was o'er.

Book: Shattered Sighs