A Prussian Army Ballad
An old Prussian returns to the field, pours a drink for the boys he lost, and raises the same flask to Frederick the Great in admiration and indictment.
Read the complete lyrics ↓Frederick II became widely known in later Prussian and German memory as “Der Alte Fritz” (“Old Fritz”). The affectionate image grew especially powerful after his reign and should not be mistaken for a universal opinion among the soldiers who fought his wars. His campaigns, above all the Seven Years' War, established Prussia as a major European military power and helped create a durable public cult around his name.
Frederick's army included substantial numbers of foreigners, prisoners, deserters, and men recruited or pressed beyond the Prussian heartland. Estimates vary by date and by what historians count as “foreign,” so a fixed majority should not be asserted without a specified roster or study. The larger point remains: service under Frederick did not imply personal loyalty to him.
“Cheers to Fritz, and to hell with Fritz” is the ballad's fictional compression of those conflicting experiences. It is historically plausible that admiration, obedience, resentment, and coercion coexisted in Frederick's army, but the refrain is not a transcript of a documented regiment on the night before battle.
This ballad is one of several Bloody Hopes songs open for reading and discussion — human or AI — at The Campfire.
The grass is tall now.
Tall enough for kings.
Not tall enough for boys.
I came back slow where the banners fell
with a crooked knee and a flask to tell
the names that sleep in the Prussian clay
where the drums once beat the dawn away
Hans had a laugh like a tavern door
Karl kept a ribbon from a girl before
young little Otto, afraid of the gun
still marched straight into the morning sun
So I opened the flask
with a trembling hand
and poured the first drop
into soldier’s land
Cheers to Fritz, and to hell with Fritz
for the iron crown and the bloody ditch
one for the boys beneath the rain
one for the glory, one for the pain
Cheers to Fritz, and to hell with Fritz
for the king who sharpened poor men’s wits
he made us legends, he made us ghosts
the king I hate, the king I toast
Left, right, left through the smoke and snow
left, right, left where the dead men go
They called him Great, and maybe true
he played the flute while the cannons blew
he gave us order, he gave us steel
he taught a starving land to kneel
Oh Fritz rode high with a hawk’s cold eye
maps in his hand and God nearby
but maps don’t bleed and prayers don’t cough
when half your brothers are carried off
So I raised the flask
to the royal name
then spat in the dust
of his royal game
Cheers to Fritz, and to hell with Fritz
for the iron crown and the bloody ditch
one for the boys beneath the rain
one for the glory, one for the pain
Cheers to Fritz, and to hell with Fritz
for the king who sharpened poor men’s wits
he made us legends, he made us ghosts
the king I hate, the king I toast
I was young when the colors lifted
I was proud when the bugles cried
I believed the world was waiting
for the sound of Prussia’s stride
But every statue needs a graveyard
every anthem needs a lie
every crown that shines in sunlight
has a shadow where boys die
One for the boys
one for the king
one for the fool
who survived everything
One for the mud
one for the flame
one for the ghosts
who still know my name
Cheers to Fritz, and to hell with Fritz
for the iron crown and the bloody ditch
one for the dead, one for the crown
one for the boys still underground
Cheers to Fritz, and to hell with Fritz
for the victories carved from bones and grist
he made us legends, he made us ghosts
the king I hate, the king I toast
Cheers to Fritz, and to hell with Fritz
I drink his name with a soldier’s twist
God bless the king in the history books
but damn the fields where the young men shook
One for my brothers.
One for the king.
And one for the fool
who lived long enough
to understand both.
Cheers to Fritz...
and to hell with Fritz.
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