When the shells are bursting round

Makiing craters in the ground

And the rifle fires something awful cruel

When the wounded fall and die

And you 'ear a horses cry

Or the shriek of a sharpnel rended mule

(my gawd it makes yer fight!)

An' yer thinks of them poor souls a going 'ome

When you 'ear the sergent shout

Get your respirators out!

Then yer looks an' sees a cloud of something white

 

The gas is coming on

An' yer knows before its gone

That the 'orse wots with yer now won't be by then

Yer loves 'im like yer wife

An' yer wants to save 'is life

But there ain't no respirators, not for them

I was standing by his side

On the night me old 'orse died

An' I shan't forget 'is looks towards the last

'e was choking might bad

An' 'is eyes was looking mad

An' I seed that 'e wa dying - dying fast

 

I'm a gun-team driver now

An' I want to tell yer 'ow

Me 'orses works when they're put to the test

They've a lot of work to do

An' its them wot gets us through!

For they strains their blooming ;earts out when they're pressed

We was galloping like 'ell

When a bullit 'it old Nell

I could see the blood a streaming down her face

It 'ad got her in the 'ead

But she stuck to it and led

Till we comes to action right an' then she fell

 

I 'adn't time to choose

I 'ad to cut her loose

For she'd done all she could do afore a gun

When I looks at 'er again

She was out of all 'er pain

An' I 'opes 'er soul 'ill rest for wot she done

If it 'adn't been for Nell

For we only got in action just in time

Ain't it once occured to you

Wot the 'orses there go through?

They 'elps to win our fights an' does it fine

 

When 'is blood is flowiing 'ot

From the wound what 'e's just got

An' 'is breathing is coming 'ard, an' short, an' thin

'e can see the men about

Getting water dealed out

But not a drop is brought to comfort 'im

Tho' 'is tongue is parched and dry

'e can see the water by

But 'is wound won't let 'im go an' get a drink

'is wounds are left to bleed

An' he can't tell us 'is need

So 'e's just got to bear 'is pain - an' think

 

There are 'eros big and small

But the biggest of them all

Is the 'orse wot lays a dying on the ground

'e doesn't cause no wars

An' 'e's only fightiing yours

An' e's gives 'is life for you without a sound

'e doesn't get no pay

Just some oats an' p'r'aps some 'ay

If 'e's killed no-one thinks a bit of 'im

'e's just as brave an' good

As any man wot ever stood

But there's a miighty little thought or 'elp for 'im

 

 

                                                                                           Annette Joyce.