Solheim, who led artillery,
Was in no mood to let them breathe,
He’d lost his daughter days before,
And had not yet had time to grieve.
His precious daughter had been killed,
In crossfire of Allied advance,
And so for days on end he brought,
Barrage upon the Allied camps.
No peer he had in mortal men,
He’d fought on fronts both East and West,
And as a father struck with grief,
He would allow Allies no rest.
Rage and sorrow took his soul,
Darkness fell upon his face,
So did his shining golden hair,
As he laid them all to waste.
They asked for temporary truce,
A brief peace to grant some respite,
But their pleas fell on deaf ears,
So guns continued day and night.
Thus Solheim would not relent,
And neither would his roaring guns,
That with black smoke choked the air,
And filled unsuspecting lungs.
If they had not slain his child,
Perhaps they might have met success,
Instead he wanted them all dead,
And would not stop for any less.
His daughter was his only light,
And should have had more earthly years,
But was taken by a fate most cruel,
Leaving her father only tears.
The guns they howled as distant wolves,
With their monstrous shrieking sound,
Struck terror in the hearts of men,
As screaming shells then kissed the ground.
The dirt was cast into the air,
And showered on the men below,
Who in their hearts knew death had come,
But prayed that it would not be so.
Each man prayed to leave alive,
Each man prayed for his own sake,
But the shells that did not care,
Left only terror in their wake.
No man was safe from the barrage,
Their forts were precious little use,
Solheim had judged their sentence death,
And with his guns he tied their noose.
The soldiers prayed hard for their lives,
But as shells rained from wrathful skies,
Their prayers fell to an angry God,
With deaf ears to their pleading cries.
No man met mercy, none were spared,
From raging Solheim in his wrath,
By his hand many Allies died,
With none to write an epitaph.
The shells met targets so far-flung,
Scattered flesh and splintered bone,
Nothing left of youthful life,
Never to be returned home.
Was in no mood to let them breathe,
He’d lost his daughter days before,
And had not yet had time to grieve.
His precious daughter had been killed,
In crossfire of Allied advance,
And so for days on end he brought,
Barrage upon the Allied camps.
No peer he had in mortal men,
He’d fought on fronts both East and West,
And as a father struck with grief,
He would allow Allies no rest.
Rage and sorrow took his soul,
Darkness fell upon his face,
So did his shining golden hair,
As he laid them all to waste.
They asked for temporary truce,
A brief peace to grant some respite,
But their pleas fell on deaf ears,
So guns continued day and night.
Thus Solheim would not relent,
And neither would his roaring guns,
That with black smoke choked the air,
And filled unsuspecting lungs.
If they had not slain his child,
Perhaps they might have met success,
Instead he wanted them all dead,
And would not stop for any less.
His daughter was his only light,
And should have had more earthly years,
But was taken by a fate most cruel,
Leaving her father only tears.
The guns they howled as distant wolves,
With their monstrous shrieking sound,
Struck terror in the hearts of men,
As screaming shells then kissed the ground.
The dirt was cast into the air,
And showered on the men below,
Who in their hearts knew death had come,
But prayed that it would not be so.
Each man prayed to leave alive,
Each man prayed for his own sake,
But the shells that did not care,
Left only terror in their wake.
No man was safe from the barrage,
Their forts were precious little use,
Solheim had judged their sentence death,
And with his guns he tied their noose.
The soldiers prayed hard for their lives,
But as shells rained from wrathful skies,
Their prayers fell to an angry God,
With deaf ears to their pleading cries.
No man met mercy, none were spared,
From raging Solheim in his wrath,
By his hand many Allies died,
With none to write an epitaph.
The shells met targets so far-flung,
Scattered flesh and splintered bone,
Nothing left of youthful life,
Never to be returned home.