FIDDLERS GREEN
This page is dedicated to
the memory of all Cavalry troopers who have gone before us, whether they were
members of the real Frontier Army or Reenactors
The nation
that forgets its defenders will itself be forgotten.
---Calvin Coolidge---
Fiddlers' Green
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 Fiddlers' Green
Marching past straight through to
Hell
The Infantry are seen
Accompanied by the Engineers,
Artillery and
Marines,
For none but the shades of Cavalrymen
Dismount at Fiddlers'
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 again
With friends at Fiddlers' Green
And so
when man and horse go down
Beneath a sabre keen,
Or on roaring charge of
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.
James V. Acker, Pres.