The longest darkness of the year br comes as Christmas is drawing near. br We dug and cursed the frozen ground br The snow was deep, more coming down. br br We are surrounded and outgunned. br We’re short of food and winter gear. br Medicines are running out br and we have scores of wounded here. br br I do believe my feet are frozen br I can no longer feel my toes. br But still I will not leave the line br What I ‘d give for a cuppa joe. br br The sounds of Panzers in the wind- br Shouts heard in a guttural tongue- br We brace for yet one more attack br and vow we won’t be overrun. br br We’re the battling bastards of Bastogne br No mother, no father, no Uncle Sam br The Germans came, we beat them back- br But now we’re a much smaller band. br br br When our surrender was demanded br They say McAuliffe told them nuts. br I’ve heard that Patton will relieve us br We’re waiting on “old blood and guts”. br br br br br br John F.