Peat Bog Soldiers (3)
Any directions you might see,
Bog and heath is everywhere.
Here are no birds to sing for me
The oaks, they stand twisted and bare.
Cho: We are the bog battalion,
On spade instead of stallion,
In such a deserted landscape
Just for us, this compound dire.
Far from friends and with no escape
We are cached behind barb-ed wire.
Columns long, we head for the bog
To dig the early morning.
We sweat in sun, work like a dog,
And think of loved ones mourning.
Thought to home and hearth do return,
To parents, wife and children.
Many a breast may sigh and yearn
To leave this prison, when, oh when?
The patrols guard us day and night,
Escape is a losing sport.
Your life's not worth attempted flight,
Four rings of wire fence the fort.
Complaining will not set us free;
Winter can't last forever.
The time will come when we will see,
Our homeland ours, together.
Then no more bog battalion
No spade instead of stallion
translation of the German