Fiddler's Green
Halfway down the trail
to Hell,
In a shady meadow green
Are the Souls of all dead
troopers camped,
Near a good old-time canteen.
And this eternal resting
place
Is known as Fiddlers'
Green.
Marching past, straight
through to Hell
The Infantry are seen.
Accompanied by the Engineers,
Artillery and Marines,
For none but the shades
of Cavalrymen
Dismount at Fiddlers'
Green.
Though some go curving
down the trail
To seek a warmer scene.
No trooper ever gets to
Hell
Ere he's emptied his canteen.
And so rides back to drink
again
With friends at Fiddlers'
Green.
And so when man and horse
go down
Beneath a saber keen,
Or in a roaring charge
of fierce melee
You stop a bullet clean,
And the hostiles come
to get your scalp,
Just empty your canteen,
And put your pistol to
your head
And go to Fiddlers' Green.
(The origin and author
of Fiddlers' Green is unknown. It was believed to
have originated in the
1800's and was composed as a song sung by the
soldiers of the 6th and
7th Cavalry. Its first known appearance in
published form was in
a 1923 Cavalry Journal.)
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