Fiddler's Green (Cavalry)



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 Fiddler's Green.



Marching past, straight through to hell,

The infantry are seen, '

Accompanied by the Engineers,

Artillery and Marine,

For none but the shades of Cavalrymen

Dismount at Flddlers' 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 agaln

With friends at Fiddlers' Green.



And so when man and horse go down

Beneath a saber keen,

Or in a roaring charge or 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.



Note: as far as we can tell, immediate post-Civil War RG

From Sound Off!, Dolph

@America @army

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