Whoever does not have the stomach for this fight, Let him depart. Give him money to speed his departure, We do not wish to die in his company.
He who outlives this day, and goes safely home, Will stand tall when this day is remembered. He who survives this day, and sees old age, Will yearly on its vigil, feast with his friends.
He will strip his shirt, and show his scars, He will remember with pride, what feats he did this day. He will recall the names, as familiar as household words, He will raise a toast so they are freshly remembered.
This story he will teach to his son, And every day that passes by, From this day to the end of the world, All those who were here shall be remembered.
We few, we happy few, we band of brothers, He who sheds his blood with me today, Shall be my brother forever. And this day shall heal his fears.
And all those home safely in bed, Shall think themselves cursed that they were not here. And they will hold their manhood cheap, When anyone speaks who fought with us this day.