Like the storm that's in the making
When the rumbling thunder runs
And the hills and valleys tremble:
That's THE THUNDER OF THE GUNS.

When the aiming posts are planted
And the firing order comes,
Then the layers work their magic
With their sight and bubble runs.

Then the check is on the charges
And the range that's on the drum,
Then the muzzle flashes lightning:
That's THE THUNDER OF THE GUNS.

It's in the fury of the battle
When the understanding comes
That the gunner is forever,
A partner with the guns.

The gunner's pride is legend
And the battles he has won,
Bring Regimental Honours:
Through THE THUNDER OF HIS GUNS.

With the smoking breaches empty
And the dust and cordite gone,
There's a rumble in the distance:
That's THE THUNDER OF THE GUNS.

The Gods of War have finished
And the Sands of Time have run,
But always there's the memory of
THE THUNDER OF THE GUNS.

And as today becomes the future
Our sons will tell their sons,
That the men whose blood they carry:
Knew THE THUNDER OF THE GUNS.

In the valley of the shadows
When his comrades are as one,
Their hearts will surely gladden
For they're the only ones
That understand the music:
In THE THUNDER OF THE GUNS.

By NX12891 Gnr W.S.T. Stacy, 2nd/3rd Field Regiment, Royal Australian Artillery. The poem was written during active service in WW2. The photograph was taken in World War 1 by Sgt H Howes, 2nd Battery, New Zealand Artillery.