Be proud and march in time,
Take care, your weapon has to be fine.
The number right next to me,
Together we cross the world’s sea.
On the battlefield we hear them crying,
Everywhere around us comrades are dying.
People who remained home can’t imagine the blood flowing,
Because they don’t realize where we are going.
We’re brothers in arms – united,
Since Chain of Command decided.
We want to fight for the fatherland,
Our lives in unknown hands.
I’ll carry you through hell,
(Losing you? -) Instead of you I’ll hear the death’s bell.
Two further numbers, together one identity,
Serving for all eternity.
I was looking for some quotes by Gandhi and others (about war) when I saw a picture with an US American soldier, carrying his wounded comrade. Next to the picture there was a poem – the soldier would carry his comrade through hell, till the fires burn his flesh down to his bones; but his wounded comrade would never be alone.
This inspired me, so I wrote a spontaneously poem about two soldiers (In my mind they’re a team of two marksmen, but feel free to interpretate other soldiers into the scenario).
I don’t want to tell you why I wrote this because I think everybody should interpretate this in his own way. I just want to say that the “people who don’t realize where we are going” are all the people who don’t pay respect to their soldiers (who are protecting them).