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
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