The Brass Bullet Strips

The German guards stood their ground When the Australians attacked throwing lead all around But bullets don’t last in such a fight And he made each one count as he thought he might Each clip for his Mauser rifle was fed As he placed them in with some lingering dread And the brass bullet holders littered the ground When a shot rang out and he fell down The Australians won the trench and the detritus strewn there That was left in the ground without any care The war dragged on and the military metal was lost As those who were left added up the cost One hundred years on in a French cafe A tourist bought the brass and wondered that day What was the story of these strips and how they stayed. © Paul Warren Poetry