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 saber keen,
Or in a 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.
The origin and author of Fiddlers' Green
is unkown. It was believed to have originated in the 1800's
and was composed as a song
sung by the soldiers of the 6th and 7th
Cavalry. Its first known appearance in published form was
in a 1923 Cavalry Journal.