"Each man must for himself alone decide what is right and what is wrong, which course is patriotic and which isn't. You cannot shirk this and be a man. To decide against your conviction is to be an unqualified and excusable traitor, both to yourself and to your country, let me label you as they may." ~ Mark Twain
sally forth, brave soldiers your country is waiting the sacrifice of your blood shall appease the gods of war on to battle, young ones your brothers are dying in the fields and mother victory weeps for the fall of her sons how brave we were how proud, how true what intentions we had as we charged against the enemy who asks this of us who dares damn a generation bodies that were lithe and strong rot in fields unburied at home the women weep mothers, wives, sisters my son is fallen, or my brother dear god, who will bring them back in the churchyards crosses stand white and mute in the sunlight while so many miles away darkness falls blood gushes red men scream out in throes of death and mars on his crimson throne claps his hands with glee to the slaughter, husbands and brothers while your wives wait weeping and your fathers pray an unceasing litany to deaf gods did they ever imagine this the men who sent you off to war decay, destruction, butchery the best of a nation lost who will rise again who is left to build the proud cities upwards towards the sky no one, mother, they are all gone their cities destroyed the white towers topple and with them our memories crash to the ground we were proud and fair and now we weep the silent crosses in the sand washed by the gray ocean sally forth, brave soldiers your country is waiting the sacrifice of your blood shall appease the gods of war on to battle, young ones your brothers are dying in the fields and mother victory weeps for the fall of her sons.