And I knew they were caught in the snare!
—————————————
The morning broke, smiling and peaceful—
Ah, shame that we soldiers must fight—
’Twas a piteous scene met my vision
With the first rosy quivers of light.
When I peeped in the trench, not a Turk, sir,
Was left of that legion accurst—
For they’d whacked the Fray Bentos among them,
And each man had perished from thirst.