Fiddler’s Green

Halfway down the Trail to HellIn a shady meadow green,Are the Souls of all dead troopers campedNear a good old-time canteen,And this eternal resting placeis known as Fiddlers’ Green. Marching past, straight through to Hell,The Infantry are seen,Accompanied by the Engineers,Artillery and Marine,For none but the shades of CavalrymenDismount at Fiddlers’ Green. Though some go

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The Dragoon TapsStryker Gone Stryker GoneGod AwaitsWith His ArmsWith His HomeWe Will GoThose Left BehindSay Good ByeToujours Pret Dragoons DownDragoons DownWe Will NotLeave Our Comrades BehindBring Them ToStronger HandsThan Our Own WarriorsOne And AllThey Will StandWith The TroopsOf Our PastAJ WalkerSFC JohnsonLT Burks Saddle UpPat Your MareCheck Your SpursPull Your SaberHold It HighAim Your HorseTo

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