Soldiers - Reaching the Dead End

To those who toil from morn to morn,
To those who fight for the unknown,
To whom we've known as our brothers,
To whom our country is a mother.
For them the prickly shrubs are the armour,
For them the snowy sleet is summer,
For them a feminine voice is memory,
For them their country's soil is a treasury.
Them we salute with a sincere heart,
And grieve in silence for those who depart.
For never before the enemy did they bend,
Even though they reached the dead end.