in the argonne forest at midnight, an engineer stood on guard. a star stood high in the sky, brought him greetings from his distant home country. with the spade in his hand, he stood in the front trench. with desire he thought of his beloved woman, will he be able to see her again? the cannonade of the artillery was thundering.
we had position ahead of the infantry. shells were bursting in our position, the froggies wanted to get into our position. the froggy screamed "pardon monsieur!" he raised both his hands. that way he begged for our mercy, which we granted to him as good germans. no matter how threatening the enemy is, we germans are not afraid of him anymore.
he might be very strong, but he will never get into our position. argonne forest, argonne forest, soon you will be a quiet cemetery. in your cold earth, a lot of brave soldierâ´s blood rests.