21 Sikh At Saragarhi by Tim van Aerde

My brothers, here I stand with you high. At Saragarhi we are, 21 Sikhs strong. Army at the gates, on reinforcements we cannot rely.

Only one task we have and that’s to prolong. 14.000 at our door, the charge at us in a cry.

The reason for this fight, here we do not belong. “Bole So Nihal, Sat Sri Akal1” we yell in reply.

They think we will surrender but they are wrong.

The bullets zooming in the sky. Their attacks by our furiosity soon withdrawn. 11 of us have said their last goodbye.

Our western wall blown to the beyond. The enemy in the fort we all prepare to die. We lie down our lives with no disregard.

One Sikh remains in a tower high; they want him to fry.

Guarding the tower, he sells his live hard.

“Bole So Nihal, Sat Sri Akal” his last cry.

His body now in the tower charred.

The Sikh battle cry our last goodbye For 7 hours we had our enemy barred. Now we 21 lie rest, our empty eyes watching the sky

The Galant 21

Havildar Ishar Singh Naik Lal Singh Lance Naik Chanda Singh Sepoy Sundar Singh Sepoy Ramm Singh Sepoy Uttar Singh Sepoy Sahib Singh Sepoy Hira Singh Sepoy Daya Singh Sepoy Jivan Singh Sepoy Bhola Singh Sepoy Narayan Singh Sepoy Gurmukh Singh Sepoy Jivan Singh Sepoy Gurmukh Singh Sepoy Ram Singh Sepoy Bhagwan Singh Sepoy Bhagwan Singh Sepoy Buta Singh Sepoy Jivan Singh Sepoy Nand Singh

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