Spring of 1918

In March of 1918, near the end of the First World War, Germany's military forces had been dried out due to the many violent battles fought in the war. Though Allied casualties were higher than German ones, it was estimated that the sheer number of the Allies would still mean that Germany would lose. The commander Erich Ludendorff decided the only way to win the war was to launch an all-out offensive on the Western Front. This poem is from the perspective of a soldier who wants to serve his nation to the bitter end.
I've been learning German a bit, so I mixed some German words in there. I hope it doesn't make the poem sound cringe. That being said, as always, feedback would be appreciated :}