Yuki no Shingun (The Snowy March) was written in 1945 by famed author and composer Hiroyuki Agawa after the second sino-Japanese war (1937-1945) about the hardships he faced in the navy during the war. It is still revered as a classical and national navy song by Japanese people who know of the composition. The name literally translates to "The Snow March", and describes hardships faced by Hiroyuki and a team of his comrades during a Chinese winter on a military March, somewhere between 1937 and 1945.
In Girls und Panzer, This song is used for Chi-Ha-Tan Academy.
|Instrumental||Ankou Team Version||Yukari-Erwin Version|
Lyrics in Japanese
Lyrics in Romanji
- Yuki no Shingun, Koori wo funde
- Dore ga Kawa yara Michi-sae shirezu
- Uma wa taoreru, sutete mo okezu
- Koko wa izuku zo, Mina Teki no Kuni
- Ma-ma yo, Daitan Ippuku yareba
- Tanomi sukunaya, Tabako ga Nihon.
- Yakanu Himono ni Han-nie Meshi ni
- Namaji Inochi no aru sono uchi wa
- Korae-kirenai Samusa no Takibi
- Kemui hazu da yo Nama-ki ga iburu
- Shibui Kao shite Kōmyō Hanashi
- Sui to iu no wa Umeboshi hitotsu.
- Ki-no-mi-ki no mama Kiraku na Fushido
- Hainō-Makura ni Gaitō kaburya
- Sena no Nukumi de Yuki-doke kakaru
- Yagu no Kibi-gara shippori nurete
- Musubi kanetaru Roei no yume wo
- Tsuki wa tsumetaku Kao nozokikomu.
- Inochi sasagete detekita Mi yue
- Shinuru Kakugo de Tokkan suredo
- Buun tsutanaku Uchijini ni seneba
- Giri ni karameta Jūppei Mawata
- Sorori-sorori to Kubi shime-kakaru
- Dōse ikashite kaesanu Tsumori
- Marching in the snow, stepping on ice
- We can't even tell road from river
- The horses are beaten, but we can't leave them
- Just what is this place? It's all enemy country
- Oh well, if we breath a little bravery
- I'll only ask for little: a couple ciggies.
- Dried fish that won't cook becomes our half-boiled meals
- It's not long before we're living half-boiled days
- For this cold that can't be endured, a bonfire
- Surely it will smoke, chaps! The green wood smoulders
- Putting on a bitter face, a skilful speech:
- The "sour" thing here's a pickled plum.
- The clothes we wear are our carefree beds
- We cover under our overcoats on knapsack pillows
- With the warmth of our backs, the snow thaws,
- Soaking wet our millet-husk bedding.
- In bivouacs that won't tie, there are dreams
- That the moon peeks into, coldly.
- Because we came here offering our lives,
- With a death resolution, even as we charge shouting,
- If the fortunes of war so wish, we must die in battle.
- The donated padded clothes, entwined in duty,
- Slowly, slowly, fasten upon our necks.
- Anyhow, the intention wasn't to let us return alive.