We aren't no thin red 'eroes, nor we aren't no blackguards too, But single men in barricks, most remarkable like you; An' if sometimes our conduck isn't all your fancy paints, Why, single men in barricks don't grow into plaster saints.

They've taken of his buttons off an' cut his stripes away, An' they're hangin' Danny Deever in the mornin'.

For it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' 'Chuck him out, the brute!' But it's 'Saviour of 'is country' when the guns begin to shoot.

'What are the bugles blowin' for?' said Files-on-Parade. 'To turn you out, to turn you out', the Colour-Sergeant said.

'Those who start wars never fight them, and those who fight wars, they never like them.' - Time to Go Home.

Once and for all the idea of glorious victories won by the glorious army must be wiped out Neither side is glorious On either side they're just frightened men …

How do you ask a man to be the last man to die in Vietnam? How do you ask a man to be the last man to die for a mistake?