 | Ballads of the War |  |
21
An Estcourt Hero
Orderly-Sergeant W. Tod,
When next I lie in a tightish place,
With the enemy's bullets raining down—
Shot thro' the arm—and blood on my face
From the man whose brains to the winds are blown,
With nothing to help but the love of God,
I shall pray he will send to mend my case,
A second Orderly-Sergeant Tod.
When next I lie in a tightish place,
With the enemy's bullets raining down—
Shot thro' the arm—and blood on my face
From the man whose brains to the winds are blown,
With nothing to help but the love of God,
I shall pray he will send to mend my case,
A second Orderly-Sergeant Tod.
For Orderly-Sergeant W. Tod,
It was you who saw when the Captain fell;
It was you who, in face of the fusilade,
Gathered the boulders and placed them well,
As fence from the bullets to lend him aid;
You built up the stones, you packed the sod,
And there by his side, to cheer him, laid
Your own brave body's length, Sergeant Tod.
It was you who saw when the Captain fell;
It was you who, in face of the fusilade,
Gathered the boulders and placed them well,
As fence from the bullets to lend him aid;
You built up the stones, you packed the sod,
And there by his side, to cheer him, laid
Your own brave body's length, Sergeant Tod.
| Ballads of the War | |