Soldier of fortune, stepping their march
straight to the frontline, praying for their lives
their backpacks full,heavy as metal
their weapons charged, ready to shoot
their boots thight, stepping trought blood

Hornblowers blowing, blowing their horns
thinking of their family, their wives and kids
Breathing dust and smoke
Blowing their longs
Watching their friends next to them
praying their lives, dreaming of peace

But one man, one single man
young and brave, only eighteen
has stopped to blow
there he goes, after the soldiers
People get shot all around him
but he doesn't notice, he goes on
Nothing stops him, no bullet touches him
Then he's standing in front
of the enemy's captain
Eye in eye, in the middle of war
Swords are swinging trought the air
furieus, mad, and angry
Soldier around them paused their combat
Everything was quiet, exept those two
twenty minutes later, someone failed...

Hornblower felt,a gap in his belly
Enemy kneeled next to him and said;
"Sorry,Hornblower, i liked you as you were my brother..."
Then the hornblower cried and said;
"Don't worry, Captain, i AM you brother!"

Wie verloor nu echt?
Geschreven voor mijn broer, militair en voor mij vrijwel een onbekend...