Look at them, down in the valley,
crossing the untended farm,
a patrol, thirty men, walk on eggshells,
hoping to pass without harm.
But today, their last, despite sunshine,
on a warm, Octoberish afternoon,
fire pins them down from the treeline,
they dont know it, but the end will come soon.
A reinforced company holds the woods there,
surprised by this bold daylight test,
they quickly suppress the intruders,
and maneuver a force to the west.
Artillery closes the back door,
machine guns deny them advance,
fresh hell from the west enfilading,
devours their last futile chance.
Its over in less than ten minutes,
thirty men lay dead in a field,
their blood, soaking quickly beneath them,
will increase the farms next autumn yield.
"There will be peace...,
Peace in the valley..."