Bent double, like old beggars under sacks,
Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge, Till on the haunting flares we turned our backs And towards our distant rest began to trudge.
Men marched asleep. Many had lost their boots
But limped on, blood-shod. All went lame; all blind;
Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hoots
Of tired, outstripped Five-Nines that dropped behind.
Gas! GAS! Quick, boys! — An ecstasy of fumbling,
Fitting the clumsy helmets just in time;
But someone still was yelling out and stumbling
And floundering like a man in fire or lime . . .
Dim, through the misty panes and thick green light,
As under I green sea, I saw him drowning.
In all my dreams, before my helpless sight,
He plunges at me, guttering, choking, drowning.
If in some smothering dreams you too could pace
Behind the wagon that we flung him in,
And watch the white eyes writhing in his face,
His hanging face, like a devil’s sick of sin;
If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood
Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs,
Obscene as cancer, bitter as the cud
Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues, —
My friend, you would not tell with such high zest
To children ardent for some desperate glory,
The old lie: Dulce et decorum est
Pro patria mori.
Is sweet and glorious Die for his country.???
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I have given information on Wilfred Owen before but it is worth repeating myself.
Wilfred Owen (1893-1918) is widely recognised as one of the greatest voices of the First World War. His self-appointed task was to speak for the men in his care, to show the ‘Pity of War’.
Wilfred Owen
Owen’s enduring and influential poetry is evidence of his bleak realism, his energy and indignation, his compassion and his great technical skill.
The Wilfred Owen Association was formed in 1989 to commemorate Wilfred Owen’s life and work. You can learn more at http://wilfredowen.org.uk/home/
I do not normally add videos to these poems as they are so sad and I am trying to relate the truth. This song is everything I find so bad about WW1 A merry tune hiding a horrible horrible truth.
A young man like the one in the song could of enlisted at the start of the war and then received approximately 12 weeks training, by 1918 was down to 6 weeks. Training for a standard infantry soldier was basic as most people already accepted orders, routine, manual labour, so they were compliant. The main areas of training where rifle and bayonet drill, small unit tactics and learning the basics of trench warfare.
So six to twelve weeks and then sent forth to the bowls of hell. I have covered how much this challenge has taught me ……. you already know how I feel.
Poetry Challenge #7 is to create a journal of links and your reactions to poems by established (living or dead poets.) Details are here. Example response is here. Mr. Linky for Challenge #7 is directly below:
I am with 12 years of experience and ready to achieve any type of works such as, converting any form from JPG, PDF, ...etc into Excel,Word, PowerPoint and other editable forms, In addition to having a deep experience in inserting and managing data
Wilfred Owen
willowdot21 