Wells of Beersheba Lyrics

Harry Chauvel was running out of time, he needed Beersheba now
Infantry would take too long so the question now was how
A charge he though, yes that would do, they would not expect that
His mind was set so he called forward his men for a little chat

In sight of the Turks, they lined up in three rows
Hoping this untried tactic would deliver the fatal blow
They were eager for the fight and eager for the charge
The dust stirred up by the horses left most blokes parched

Then the talk suddenly stopped and the dust began to settle
Formation of troops now complete, the sound of feet on stirrup metal
The Light Horse men looked at each other and glanced across the plain
A look of steely determination as the stroked their horse's manes

Under thigh they could feel the tension of their horses
That the beasts needed water their masters felt remorse
Well they stroked their horses heads and whispered in their ears
That the wells of Beersheba were tantalizingly near

The signal came and Brigadier Grant did lead
The Lighthorsemen towards valiant deed
The trot turned to gallop in no time at all
Gallop to charge when the shrapnel began to fall

Their rifles slung over shoulder, their bayonets came to hand
They cursed the Turkish Arabs as they sped across their land
The Turkish artillery had started and a few fine soldiers fell
But still they charged towards their goal, the famed Beersheba's Wells

The clouds of dust, distant roar and flashing bayonets in the setting sun
Dread the cause for Turks to forget to change the sights on their guns
Machine guns poured lead and rifle fire did the same
But again the guns sights was the reason for lousy aim

Of a sudden they were upon them, diving from horse to ground
Whilst other rode ahead to harass others to be found
They hacked down upon the heads of Turks with bayonet and fist
And headed back to the front trenches for others they had missed

Turks surrounded in droves whilst others fought in groups
Harshly they were dealt with by the mounted infantry troops
Within an hour the battle was won and their horses drunk their fill
For the risk involved against great odds, small was the butchers bill