Fiddlers' Green

These are the names of those of our comrades who have now gone on to Fiddler's Green. They will always be in our minds and in our hearts, remembered as they were in those long ago days when we fought the good fight. May they rest in peace, and where they are may the chow be good, the beer cold, and the duty great.

FIDDLERS' GREEN

HALFWAY DOWN THE TRAIL TO HELL

IN A SHADY MEADOW GREEN

ARE THE SOULS OF ALL DEAD TROOPERS CAMPED

NEAR A GOOD OLE-TIME CANTEEN,

AND THIS ETERNAL RESTING PLACE IS

KNOW AS FIDDLERS' GREEN

MARCHING PAST STRAIGHT THROUGH TO HELL

THE INFANTRY ARE SEEN

ACCOMPANIED BY THE ENGINEERS,

ARTILLERY AND MARINES,

FOR NONE BUT THE SHADES OF CAVALRYMEN

DISMOUNT AT FIDDLERS' GREEN

THOUGH SOME GO CURVING DOWN THE TRAIL

TO SEEK A WARMER SCENE,

NO TROOPER EVER GETS TO HELL

ERE HE'S EMPTIED HIS CANTEEN.

AND SO RIDES BACK TO DRINK AGAIN

WITH FRIENDS AT FIDDLERS' GREEN

AND SO WHEN MAN AND HORSE GO DOWN

BENEATH A SABRE KEEN,

OR ON ROARING CHARGE OF FIERCE MELEE

YOU STOP A BULLET CLEAN.

AND THE HOSTILES COME TO GET YOUR SCALP

JUST EMPTY YOUR CANTEEN,

AND PUT YOUR PISTOL TO YOUR HEAD

AND GO TO FIDDLERS' GREEN.