SIMPSON, Louis
    
      
    
      
    
      
    Carentan O Carentan
  
  
    
      
    Trees in the old days used to stand
    
      
    And shape a shady lane
    
      
    Where lovers wandered hand in hand
    
      
    Who came from Carentan.
    
      
     
    
      
    This was the shining green canal
    
      
    Where we came two by two
    
      
    Walking at combat-interval.
    
      
    Such trees we never knew.
    
      
     
    
      
    The day was early June, the ground
    
      
    Was soft and bright with dew.
    
      
    Far away the guns did sound,
    
      
    But here the sky was blue.
    
      
     
    
      
    The sky was blue, but there a smoke
    
      
    Hung still above the sea
    
      
    Where the ships together spoke
    
      
    To towns we could not see.
    
      
     
    
      
    Could you have seen us through a glass
    
      
    You would have said a walk
    
      
    Of farmers out to turn the grass,
    
      
    Each with his own hay-fork.
    
      
     
    
      
    The watchers in their leopard suits
    
      
    Waited till it was time,
    
      
    And aimed between the belt and boot
    
      
    And let the barrel climb.
    
      
     
    
      
    I must lie down at once, there is
    
      
    A hammer at my knee.
    
      
    And call it death or cowardice,
    
      
    Don't count again on me.
    
      
     
    
      
    Everything's all right, Mother,
    
      
    Everyone gets the same
    
      
    At one time or another.
    
      
    It's all in the game.
    
      
     
    
      
    I never strolled, nor ever shall,
    
      
    Down such a leafy lane.
    
      
    I never drank in a canal,
    
      
    Nor ever shall again.
    
      
     
    
      
    There is a whistling in the leaves
    
      
    And it is not the wind,
    
      
    The twigs are falling from the knives
    
      
    That cut men to the ground.
    
      
     
    
      
    Tell me, Master-Sergeant,
    
      
    The way to turn and shoot.
    
      
    But the Sergeant's silent
    
      
    That taught me how to do it.
    
      
     
    
      
    O Captain, show us quickly
    
      
    Our place upon the map.
    
      
    But the Captain's sickly
    
      
    And taking a long nap.
    
      
     
  
    Lieutenant, what's my duty,
    
      
    My place in the platoon?
    
      
    He too's a sleeping beauty,
    
      
    Charmed by that strange tune.
    
      
     
  
    Carentan O Carentan
    
      
    Before we met with you
    
      
    We never yet had lost a man
    
      
    Or known what death could do.