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--Found it behind, while yet his soul was set And his eyes eager with the death he planned For his foe forward, where he stood and manned His gun upon the roaring parapet. We knew the sign, the closing of the net, The baying of the pack on every hand, Terror of isolation. Still it fanned Some flame within. We were not conquered yet. Circled with unseen fire, we only heard The bullets whistle round us, only saw The solitude of battle. Nothing stirred. And yet, unseen, we felt his forces draw Upon us, earthed at length where earth had lured Treacherously to cover. We endured.

RASTATT, 1st May