Where Fear and Weapons Meet

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One day the empire will fall and Kaiser will die Assassination is the path, terror is the way to divide The Austro-Hungarian beast will be beheaded by Serbs A tyrant's overthrow is the only acceptable way Welcome to Sarajevo I am a Yugoslav nationalist, aiming for the unification of all Yugoslavs And I do not care what form of state, but it must be freed from Austria and all imperial shit I pulled the trigger twice, each shot - one dead The Habsburg's offspring choked on his own blood Now the Austro-Hungarian beast as hydra lost one of its heads The accursed Imperialism wiped out from the Serbian's land Dobrodosli u Sarajevo!

Submitted by Grave666 — Apr 26, 2025

Things didn't go down as expected Hill 145, ill-fated Vimy Ridge. We are entrenched in mud as wild hogs, my 47th Battalion A small wooded knoll we called "the Pimple" 2 miles in front of us. We need to capture the machine gun nests, each was heavily defended Thousands of wounded, thousands of dead We're pinned down by the machine guns Millions of shells were fired had not done damage But Vimy Ridge will be in Canadian hands. We've got straight orders: Follow your lieutenant and if he dies follow your corporal. Prepare to use grenades and bayonets. Don't lose contact with the fellow next to you And for crying out loud, try not to die A freak snowstorm struck just as we started, but blizzard proved fortunate Snow blinded heinies lost their courage, we captured trench by trench We killed them as rats in the pit, some begging for help to the skies More of the war now could be seen than from any other place in France Thousands of wounded, thousands of dead We're pinned down by the machine guns Millions of shells were fired had not done damage But Vimy Ridge now in Canadian hands.

Submitted by Grave666 — Apr 26, 2025

It were the good tunnels - 26 ways of doom One million pounds of ammonal Were packed into the underground pits Our artillery, was silenced, for the first time in years, all was quiet The sky was a very dark blue in the pre-dawn light And I swear we heard how the nightingale sings 3 a.m. 7th June We demolished the bottom of Messines Trigger down, torn apart by the whirlpool of flame Nineteen explosions, 10, 000 were killed, colonel said The boches were stunned, dazed and horror-stricken If they were not killed outright Many of them lay dead in the great craters opened By the mines secretly planted by "the Moles" Better the devil you know, than the devil you don't And I swear we heard how the nightingale sings 3 a.m. 7th June We demolished the bottom of Messines Trigger down, torn apart by the whirlpool of flame 10, 000 were killed, colonel said It were the good tunnels ...

Submitted by NecroGod — Apr 26, 2025

My name is private Johnson, I'm from AEF. The 369th Infantry Regiment. From Harlem to France, from ghetto to trench. And honestly, here's not much difference. May 15th, an enemy patrol around twenty huns. Me and a box of grenades, I threw it all then took up my rifle, c'mon 191 days under fire, never retire. Men of Bronze go forward or die Hold one's ground that's why they call us Hellfighters. God knows I give as good as I got. The fucking Labelle had a magazine clip of just three rounds and I fired it all. There was no time for reloading. I swung my rifle and brought it down with a thrown blow upon the enemy's head. He went down crying and close-in fighting began. I stabbed one Jerry in the stomach, felled a lieutenant and took a pistol shot in my arm before driving his knife between the ribs of a soldier who had climbed on my back. I killed four boches and wounded maybe ten or maybe five more can't count it well. The only weapon left is my bolo knife. So I climbed up from the ground and charged, hacking away at the foes. There wasn't anything so fine about it. Just fought for my life. A rabbit would have done that.

Submitted by Dahmers Fridge — Apr 26, 2025

My father said - son, your country needs you Come join the king's army in the final breakthrough The officer told me - shut up and attack In no man's land sludge I'm firmly stuck I saw private Baker with his guts in the mud He called for his mother coughed up blood I found all my squad mates in a shell hole They all were dead, shredded as coal And I ran thru this scorched soil as fast as I can Threw out all my weapons, my helmet and bags A sudden wave of fear choked me out I forgot my own name and I had to run Near the Menin Road Ridge I sat under a tree When they suddenly stumbled upon me They said I'm a slacker, I'm a coward and rat Corporal pulled out his gun and shot me in the head My father said - son, your country needs you Come join the king's army in the final breakthrough

Submitted by Warbringer — Apr 26, 2025

Dear Mother, I regret very much to inform you that your son Private A.G. Harrison was killed in action on the night of the 21st instant. Death was instantaneous and without any suffering. The company was taking part in an attack and your son's gun team was one of them which advanced against the enemy. The attack was successful and all guns reached and established new positions. Later in the night the enemy shelled our lines. And one shell fell on your son's gun, killing him and wounding a comrade. It was impossible to get his remains away. And he lies in a soldier's grave where he fell. I and the C.O. and all the company deeply sympathize with you in your loss. Your son always did his duty and now has given his life for his country. We all honour him, and I trust you will feel some consolation in remembering this. His number was 62732 of this company. Later in the night the enemy shelled our lines. And one shell fell on your son's gun, killing him and wounding a comrade. It was impossible to get his remains away. In true sympathy, yours faithfully, War.

Submitted by Infernal Flame — Apr 26, 2025

Life as a gift, our life as a present from King Albert to Tsar Nikolai Now the ship is sailing to the shore of Archangel. We move down to the Peterhof, Russia meets us with the solemn march And soon we moved on to the Zbarazh, Ozerna and Tarnopol We entered the war in Galizia Hold the line, Minerva will cover us The Hotchkiss machine gun poured lead in all directions Send our messages to all boches - We will avenge for the Belgium! 16 of us were killed in action, 16 of us in this Galizian sludge They called home After two years we've left this squalid place We moved to Kyiv, but the bolsheviks banished us and we destroyed our cars To prevent their capture and chose the highest way back home Along the trans-Siberian railway to China and Vladivostok. On the ship "Sheridan" we sailed to the United States. In San Francisco they treated us like heroes. From Sacramento to Salt Lake City, Chicago, Detroit and New York. Finally we're returning to France just months before the War was ended Hello again, our lovely Belgium. Wederom hallo, ous mooie België

Submitted by Finntroll — Apr 26, 2025

Big Bertha trampled you down 8 shells an hour, 8 hundred kilograms of trinitrotoluene Mit Gott für König und Vaterland We are going to grind you down Froschfressers get what they deserve Franzacken auf wiedersehen Sergeant Kunze leads us to death - your pioneer squad, your nine comrades All the rifles are fully loaded - Hände hoch Fort Douaumont! Mut und Tapferkeit nehmen Festungen ein

Submitted by Pestilence — Apr 26, 2025

Well, how do you do, young Willie McBride? Do you mind if I sit here down by your graveside? And rest for a while in the warm summer sun I've been walking all day and I'm nearly done I see by your gravestone you were only nineteen When you joined the great fallen in 1916 I hope you died well and I hope you died clean Or young Willie McBride, was it slow and obscene? Did they beat the drum slowly, did they play the life lowly? Did they sound the death march as the lowered you down? Did the band play The Last Post in chorus? Did the pipes play the Flowers of the Forest? Did you leave a wife or sweetheart behind In some faithful heart is your memory enshrined? Although you died back in 1916 In that faithful heart are you forever nineteen? Or are you a stranger without even a name Enclosed in forever behind the glass frame In an old photograph, torn, battered and stained And faded to yellow in a brown leather frame? The sun now it shines on the green fields of France There's a warm summer breeze that makes the red poppies dance And look how the sun shines from under the clouds There's no gas, no barbed wire, there's no guns firing now But here in this graveyard it's still No Man's Land The countless white crosses stand mute in the sand To man's blind indifference to his fellow man To a whole generation that were butchered and damned Ah young Willie McBride, I can't help wonder why Do those that lie here know why did they die? And did they believe when the answered the cause Did they really believe that this war would end wars? Well the sorrow, the suffering, the glory, the pain The killing and dying, were all done in vain For young Willie McBride, it all happened again And again, and again, and again, and again

Submitted by Dahmers Fridge — Nov 11, 2025

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