Le fanion de la Légion [English translation]

Down below, the endless wasteland1

commanded by a small fort.

The plain is dead silent.

Up there, in the clear morning,

a figure blows to the four winds

the shrill notes of a bugle.

They are answered by a gunshot.

My oh my, what a great story.

There are thirty pals in the bastion,

bare chested, dreaming of scraps.

They have wine in their canteens,

food and ammunition.

My oh my, what a great story.

Up there on the bastion walls,

glory hovers in the sun,

as a standard2 flutters in the wind,

the standard of The Legion!

The bastards are holding the plain.

Up there, in the small fort,

it's been a week and death

has taken its daily toll.

Thirst and fever

dry the lips.

All bugle calls are answered

by hails of rifle fire.

My oh my, what a great story.

There's twenty of them left in the fort,

bare chested, covered in glory.

No more water in their canteens,

and the ammo is almost gone.

My oh my, what a great story.

Flapping in the wind over the redoubt,

perforated like a sieve,

the standard still stands,

the proud standard of The Legion!

As night covered the plain,

the bastards sneaked toward the fort

and crawled inside like hyenas.

They struggled until morning.

Cries of rage,

savage hand to hand.

The dogs were frightened away by lions,

they didn't take the position.

My oh my, what a great story.

Only three men left in the bastion,

bare chested, covered in glory,

bleeding, hurting, in tatters,

out of water, bread and ammo.

My oh my, what a great story.

They still hold the bastion,

but can't claim victory yet:

their standard has been stolen,

the proud standard of The Legion!

But suddenly a gun rumbles:

reinforcement has arrived at last.

On the horizon, a column

can be seen in the morning light.

And echo reverberates the trumpet calls

raising toward the small hill.

A shout answers them from up there.

My oh my, what a great story.

The three survivors in the bastion

have drawn on their blackened chests

with their own blood, goodness me,

their own proud standards.

My oh my, what a great story.

They earned the right to stand upright

and shout their victory to the sky.

Standing to attention in the bastion,

they holler "The Legion reports!"

1. "bled" indicates the action takes place in the North African desert. The "bastards" are some generic rebel tribe. North African colonies were seen as a kind of Far West at the time, and natives no better considered than Redskins in US westerns2. a flag identifying a military unit