I will rebuild these defenses.
We will become giants again.
I will order cement, minefields,
panzers. God, give me iron,
even though these super-soldiers
know not the graveness of the hour.
But let's see how well those looters
perform when enemy fighters
ascend like vultures, weaving a
symphony of shadows above
in Göring's absent-minded skies.
Yet, his Luftwaffe will surely
bomb their ports of embarkation...
We are giants, like Antaeus,
holding to an undying strength
just as long as we touch the earth.