JEDER SCHUSS EIN RUSS

In the Baratheon Saga, there is an arc set during the Great War, in which the following propagandistic rhyme can be heard both on and off the front. It's supposed to be a march and a battle cry, so singability would definitely be key:

Jeder Schuss, ein Russ;
jeder Stoß, ein Franzos...

Literally, it would translate as:

"Every (gun)shot, a Russian;
every (bayonet) stab, a Frenchman..."

But I wanted to retain the rhyme and scansion to make the verses singable, as something soldiers could march and/or storm to, and what I came up with was the following version:

Every shot, a Russian twat;
every prod, a bloody Frog...

The way it sounds. Plus, expect the Lemony narrator to give a digression on singability and how to translate lyrics that are meant to be sung or chanted.

PS. Laurent and Charles Tyrell would surely feel identity crises by hearing F-words left and right from their subordinates and most of their fellow officers; cue Rainer maybe quoting the "left half, right half" speech of Hector to Ajax in Troilus and Cressida ("This blended knight, half Trojan and half Greek") to defend his Tyrell comrade. This would truly make an impressive Renloras moment, adapting it to a half French and half German officer... there would be some serious heartwarming and embracing, tear-drying on Rainer's part and on Laurent's; for that "blended knight, half German and half French" to come to grips with those identity issues!
PS. Here's the original speech from Troilus and Cressida:

Were thy commixtion Greek and Trojan so 
that thou couldst say 'This hand is Grecian all, 2745
and this is Trojan; the sinews of this leg 
all Greek, and this all Troy; my mother's blood 
runs on the dexter cheek, and this sinister 
bounds in my father's;'... 
thou shouldst not bear from me a Greekish member 2750
wherein my sword had not impressure made 
Of our rank feud...
 but the just gods gainsay 
That any drop thou borrow'dst from thy mother, 
... should by my mortal sword 
Be drain'd! Let me embrace thee, Ajax: 

OM MIN BLANDADE HÄRKOMST

Here's another Shakespearean treat: a poem based on lines of Troilus and Cressida about what it means to be a third-culture individual (furthermore: from mixed ancestry of two enemy countries). The idea of being split into left and right halves reminds me of Il visconte dimezzato... I have adapted it to refer to my own mixed ancestry:

Om min blandade härkomst vore sâ
att jag kund' säga: den handen är kärnsvensk,
den andra sydländsk; musklerna i ett ben
frân Norden, i den andra kastilianska;
sydländsk mors blod rann i min högra kind,
nordisk fars i den vänstra: Vid Enöga!
I min sydländska hälft det skull'ej finnas
ett ställe som vid Breitenfeld och Lützen
ej ärrats av Nordens klingor och gevär.
Än har gudarna (ifall de existerar)
förbjudit att var droppe jag fâtt pâ min mors sida
skall av skandinavers vapen utgjutas.