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Battle of Beersheba
I
“Charge!” they said and charge they led
from out of a dry desert wadi.
Every man of the Light Horse Brigade
across the desert thundered -
their pulsing veins, their loosened reins,
toward the wells of Beersheba
rode the brave eight hundred!
II
In gallop stride they fought and died
on mighty Walers champing.
Every man in the Light Horse Regiment
faced a foe greater numbered -
with rifles cocked, their bayonets locked,
onward the wells of Beersheba
rode the brave eight hundred!
III
Again and again the Lighthorsemen
the Turkish lines outflanked.
Every man of the Expeditionary Force
of horse and rider wondered -
their squadron raid, in great crusade,
forward the wells of Beersheba
rode the brave eight hundred!
IV
And across the sands into their hands
the Ottoman guns fell silent.
Every man in the Desert Mounted Corps
the battle trenches plundered -
with martial force, on valiant horse,
further the wells of Beersheba
rode the brave eight hundred!
V
With God they rode and victory owed
with emu plumes in their hats.
Every man of the Light Mounted Infantry
sat his saddle or lay sundered -
like Gideon of old, their trusty fold,
beyond the wells of Beersheba
rode the brave eight hundred!
VI
On horizon’s red light an heroic sight
in clouds of smoke and dust.
“Charge!” they said and charge they led
when enemy lines blundered.
The legend tells of Beersheba’s wells,
how the march on Jerusalem
to glory led all eight hundred!
Written: November 2010
Copyright ©
Keith D Trestrail
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