Answer:
Dead on the field lie ten soldiers in white killed by one blade yet there was no fight. What are they?
What gets whiter the dirtier it gets?
I think you live beneath a roof that is upheld by me; I think you seldom walk abroad but my fair form you see; I close you in on every side you very dwelling pave and probably I'll go with you At last into the grave.
Send poorly behaved children to me and let them sit here. What am I?
I have 4 wings but cannot fly. I never laugh and never cry. On the same spot I'm always found toiling away with little sound. What am I?
They are many and one, they wave and they drum, Used to cover a state, they go with you everywhere.