VALLEY FORGE AND SARATOGA
And the battles were fierce on every field that they met,
With the brave on both sides tasting blades of bayonet.
While volley after volley of musketry fire
Left the wounded and dead to grow higher and higher.
Grave days and grim nights, filled with bloodshed and tears
Touched deeply all souls and nourished deep fears.
And when Philadelphia fell to the Brit’s William Howe,
That promise of freedom seemed a hollowed-out vow.
Rebel troops had dwindled and their prospects sunk low
As dark winter blew in, bringing sickness and snow.
The men hungered and froze and yet our General George
Kept slim hopes from dying at the camp Valley Forge.
Over two thousand perished, while others fell weak,
As typhus and dysentery made their living most bleak.
And with no money left and but scant few supplies,
This ailing young cause went in search of allies.
Ah, but a turning soon came with a true patriot win
When the Brits at Saratoga were forced to give in!
Yes, their army of thousands had slogged through the wood,
Slowed down to a crawl by the mosquitoes and mud.
While the Green Mountain Boys and troops from all states,
Converged in the hills and joined ranks with their mates.
And in northern New York and in the woods near Vermont,
The rebel forces laid siege with fighting most gallant.
‘Twas a dashing display, sharp shots from their rifles,
Which left the Brits flummoxed, scattered and stifled.
And when news of this battle traveled far and wide,
It turned a few heads who would then turn the tide.
As wise old Ben Franklin, to the royal French court,
Proudly hailed our success and then asked for support.
Which King Louis did grant, gladly seizing the chance
To stick it to England, that old neck-pain of France!