Century-old verse by Stanley Burton Fullerton (1869-1952), resident of Amherst, Nova Scotia, from his self-published chapbook Poems (1918). The poet's spelling and punctuation are respected, as is his false claim to having achieved the rank of sergeant.
OVER THE TOP
Ypres, July 31, 1917
Calm was the morning, not a Hun to be seen,As I peeped o'er the land which at one time was greenThere in the distance, with a tangle and twineLay the broken barbed wire of the German first line
Peacefull it looks now, but, ah, they don't knowThat our Boys will be over, we have not long to go.As I stood in the trench with my phone on my back,I looked at our boys who were soon to attack.
You could tell by their faces, they were deeply in thoughtAs you'll always see them before the battle is foughtI then heard a whisper, what's that I hear?It was passed by their Captain, is the signaller here.
Yes, I replied, sir, he answered, thank youTwo minutes, sir, for zero, it was time to stand toIn that two minutes, they filled the first line,Then a roll of great thunder and up went our mine.
Oh, what an explosion it made one feel shockedAs we stooped 'til it settled, Lord, how the ground rockedThen, with a spring, a jump and a hop,Like pulled with a string we were over the top.
Crash, bang, went our guns an unceasing clatterAs the German first line we started to batter.It was like one long fire, with a bursting of shellNothing could be worse for him, no, not even hell,
We reached their first line and were slashing them hard,Some called for mercy Oh, mercy comradWith terror stricken faces they were trembling with fright,When we get to close quarters they've no heart to fight.
Onward we went with a rush through the mudFor our next obective which was, this time, a wood.At this we were cautious, they had so many runs,We knew it was fortified with many machine guns.
I spoke on my phone and warned my O. C.Fire on second target, sir, the big scraggy tree.I'm going to fire now, he said, so take a good sightThat is just about it, sir, try two degrees, right
Got them, that's perfect let them have fifty rounds;I knew that would get them, they are running like hounds.Now for a smoke as calmly I stoodWatching my shells burst into the wood.
Then came a runner with a message that readOrder all guns to lift, we will now go ahead.Onward they went, some at the doubleTaking the same wood without so much trouble.
Then came the report; our objectives are gainedThe advance was completed so there they remainedIt was now gettiug late and night drawing nearSo I found an old dug out, says I, I'l stop here.
What a miserable feeling as I sat there aloneAnd smoked up my woodbine with my ear to the phoneThen laid my head on a dirty old sackWaiting, in case of a counter attack.
It poured, Heavens hard, rained all through the night,Wet through and slashed up, I did look a sight;Moreover than that I was feeling half deadBeing forced to partake of some German black bread.
Then came the next morning I was pleased to see light,Thanking God to myself for his guard through the nightOn my phone came a call so I answered hello;A Battery, signaller, you may pick up and go.
I then disconnected, put the phone on my backThen took a glimpse around to make sure of my track.I braced myself up after picking my trace,Then set off in excitement, you bet, a good pace
Firmiy I walked beneath the Hun's bursting shellI am in for a hot time, I know it quite wellThen eventually I reached my old battery once moreI was pleased to sit down by my old dug out door
I sat there thinking of what would come nextI thought of the trenches so badly wrecked.I have been in some battles but proved this the worstI will never forget YPRES on July thirty first
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