WW1 Poems and letters of Robert William Moss
  • HOME
  • BACKGROUND
  • LETTERS
    • Training, Nov 1914 - May 1915
    • Ypres, Belgium, Jun 1915 - Oct 1915
    • Machine Gun School, St Omer, Nov 1915
    • Back To Ypres, Dec 195 - Feb 1916
    • Arras, France, Mar 1916 - May 1916
    • Machine Gun School, St Omer, Jun 1916
    • The Somme, France, Jun 1916 - Sep 1916
    • Hospital & Convalescence, Oct 1916 - Feb 1917
    • Officer Training, Mar 1917 - Aug 1917
    • Cambrai, France, Aug 1917 - Nov 1917
    • Wounded, A New Chapter Begins, Nov 1917
    • Extracts From Letters To Elsie, Jul 1917 - Dec 1917
  • POEMS
    • Petworth, Training, Winter 1913-14
    • Aldershot, Talavera Barracks
    • Battle Of Hooge, Jun 1915
    • Battle Of Loos, Sep 1915
    • Boesinghe Ypres, Christmas - New Year, 1915-16
    • Ypres, Jan 1916, The Guide
    • To Arras, Mar 1916
    • Delville Wood, The Somme, Jul 1916
    • Tree Of Hope, by Kate Moss, Sep 16th 2001
    • First Tank Attack, Dec 1916
    • Remnants Of A Great War, Sep 30th 2001
    • The Battle Of Cambrai, Nov 1917
  • GALLERY
  • RESOURCES
  • GET IN TOUCH
LIFE IN THE TRENCHES
THE POEMS

Delville Wood, The Somme, July 1916

Yes, ‘Devil’s Trench Right’, there,
And ‘Devil’s Trench Centre’.
To ‘Devil’s Trench Left’, here.
‘Tis Hell you now enter!

They said, ‘We’ll attack now
And iron out this salient.
You shortly will learn how,
Meanwhile do be patient!’

‘One p.m. is “Zero”,
Our Artillery barrage.
The into “Supports” go,
Some shelter there manage.’

‘The Bosche sure to reply,
And flatten front trenches.
You safe in “Supports” lie
Till bombardment ceases.’

First build gun emplacement
For overhead firing.
Now out of front line bent,
You’re quietly retiring.

Here back in Supports line
There lies a large crater,
As deep as a coal mine,
Could shelter be better!

A brash Bomber Captain
Shouts into the crater,
‘For my bombers, ‘tis plain,
Right now and no later!’

The Bombers’ position
Round rim of the basin.
Machine-gunners station
At bottom, debatin’

‘At least not so certain
Direct hit to receive.
All buried, then curtain.
Here is no one to grieve!’

The barrage now opened,
My word, what a racket!
The enemy pounded,
Receiving a packet!

In turn, enemy fire
Direct on front trenches.
Churning dead bodies, dire,
Releasing foul stenches!

Reconnaissance flier
O’er crater now hovers.
All pray he’ll retire,
Ere keen eye discovers.

Alas! We are sighted!
Now guns from both flanks
Pour shells on benighted
Poor souls from the ranks.

Our brothers, the Bombers,
Bear most of the onslaught.
While we the ‘first comers’
Too much bloody earth caught!

And struggle, half buried,
Our footing near losing.
By further shells harried,
The din most confusing!

Now German guns quieted,
And shells intermittent,
Our Infantry sighted
On assault movement bent.

Out then, quickly scrambling,
As beasts from their lair.
Machine-gun retrieving,
All the team safely there.

With emplacement intact
Erect the machine gun.
Devastating fire, act,
Rake the ranks of the Hun!

Here, gun sights are lifted,
Our troops the trench enter.
So fire is now shifted,
Frontal, right, left, centre.

Pris’ners in great numbers
Stream o’er ‘No man’s land’.
Their presence encumbers,
Such a dejected band!

One more fight is ended,
Delville Wood is cleared.
For us joy is mixed
With ‘sweat, blood, and tears’.

For action is ever
The best part of warfare.
The aftermath later,
Worse horrors to bear!

No food can be eaten,
The stench truly sickens.
A swarm of flies thickens.
Exposed food soon blackens.

Small fires can be lighted.
The Germans retreated.
Drink tea, chlorinated.
Smoke ‘Cigs’, yes, delighted!

On the firestep now sit,
With nightfall arriving.
Attack blood louse and nit,
On warm body thriving!

Hear gorg’ed rats scuttling
All sated with carrion,
O’er bodies, some sleeping,
On others, to dally on.

And tell me, how rid me
Of this ghastly stinking.
Cheer me, set the mind free
Of this morbid thinking.

Mutilated this wood,
Blasted all it’s branches,
Many battles withstood.
Charnel-house it’s trenches.

An end to this brooding.
A new day is breaking,
Fresh forces relieving,
To base we’re soon marching.

Leave, ‘Devil’s Trench Right’, now,
And ‘Devil’s Trench Centre’.
From ‘Devil’s Trench Left’, bow,
All thanks to The Maker!

Poppy icon
Dedicated to the memory of all those affected by World War One
HOME BACKGROUND LETTERS POEMS GALLERY RESOURCES GET IN TOUCH
Copyright ©2025 Moss Family, all rights reserved. 
Any unauthorised copying or reproduction will constitute an infringment of copyright. Your Privacy.
Web design and management by Splash Web