A Song of the Guns (Classic Reprint) - Softcover

Inhaltsangabe

Excerpt from A Song of the Guns

These are our masters, the slim Grim muzzles that irk in the pit; That cha'fe for the rushing of wheels, For the teams plunging madly to bit As the gunners Wing down to unkey, For the trails sweeping half-circle-right, For the six breech-blocks clashing as one To a target viewed clear on the sight Gray masses the shells search and tear Into fragments that bunch as they run For the hour of the red battle-harvest, The dream of the slaves of the gun!

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