Wednesday, December 30, 2009

Suicide In The Trenches

.
I knew a simple soldier boy
Who grinned at life in empty joy,
Slept soundly through the lonesome dark,
And whistled early with the lark.

In winter trenches, cowed and glum
With crumps and lice and lack of rum,
He put a bullet through his brain.
No one spoke of him again.

You smug-faced crowds with kindling eye
Who cheer when soldier lads march by,
Sneak home and pray you'll never know
The hell where youth and laughter go.

Siegfried Sassoon (1886–1967)
.

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=86J_RTfg_zQ

Himself said...

Good morning Maren.

WW2 apart, I'm racking my brains to think of one necessary and just war in the last hundred years.