On a day there spoke the Major
To the Corp’ral on the Ypre:
‘Find me now a trusty Guide
To lead to the trench called ‘Suicide’’.
Arrives ‘Relief’ fresh out from ‘Blighty’,
‘Rifle Brigade’ all hoity-toity!
Led by one Lieutenant Grantham,
Tall and supple, very handsome!
Says the Corp’ral to his mates,
‘Cut the cards, let’s try our fates,
He who gets the “Queen of Hearts”
With the ‘Relief’ as Guide departs.
Alas! Alas! Poor Corporal,
The “Queen of Hearts” to him did fall!
So pulling on waders over thighs,
Away to Lieutenant and ‘Relief’ he hies.
A pontoon-bridge o’er Ypre Canal,
Dreaded by ev’ryone mortal.
Thirty yards from the German line,
Target for machine gun, very fine!
Bullets whistle over, zip, zip, crack!
Some hit woodwork zip, zip, smack!
One hits soldier between the eyes,
Into the Ypre he plunges and dies!
‘Now my men, stay on this side,
And wait for the signal of the Guide,
When he says go, then run like hell’,
Once safely over so far, so well!
Safely over, there’s the trench,
Full of liquid, mud and stench.
Step right in and try your luck,
Imagine you’re a frog, or duck!
Into Flanders mire and muck,
‘Do be careful or you’re stuck,
Held as firm as in a vice,
Lose your waders in a trice!’
Plodding on thro’ gluey mess,
Hundred yards and hour, or less,
Till the Corp’ral calls a halt,
‘Wiring Party, that’s the fault!’
Snaps Lieutenant, ‘We can’t stay,
Over the parapet make your way,
Leave these Carriers well behind,
Enter trench when clear you find!’
Corp’ral explains, ‘Don’t think so,
Snipers watching where we go.
This is a clear moonlit night,
Have you instantly in sight!
When they see me dropping clear,
Next will in their sights appear.
German snipers are crack shots!
Clear man lives, but shot man rots!’
‘Obey my orders, quickly go!’
Irate Lieutenant answers so.
Corp’ral hares o’er ‘No Man’s Land’,
Swiftly obeys the curt command.
Leaps to safety in the trench,
Did not question, did not blench.
Loses balance ass he’s falling,
Lying now in filth most galling!
Follows then Lieutenant tall,
Limp o’er Corp’ral’s breast did fall,
Shot by sniper thro’ the chest.
Heeded not the Guide’s behest!
Corp’ral easing body lower,
Staunches wound and dries the gore.
Applies the lint and iodine,
That in field-dressing kits are seen.
For what seems hours there they lay,
There was need for all to pray.
Wounded Grantham faintly moans,
Cramped crabbed Corp’ral stifles groans!
Stretcher carries soon are bearing
Shot Lieutenant out of hearing.
Sad ‘Relief’ moves on it’s way,
Led by Guide, who’s far from gay.
Now the Corp’ral feels a stinger,
Ricochet bullet hits his finger.
Sucks and wraps the tiny wound,
Goes on his way without a sound.
This is where the main trench ends,
Series of Posts the line defends,
Some are empty, others manned,
Between the Posts is ‘No Man’s Land’.
Speed across these empty gaps,
Beware of bombs, and booby traps.
Soon we’ll reach trench ‘Suicide’,
Where you bid farewell to your Guide.
This the trench that you’re to man,
Here you’re staying for a span.
Living, water up to waist,
Real trench life about to taste!
Gun emplacement, sandbags few,
Small protection give to you.
See your eyes and ears are keen.
Upon the Germans vent your spleen!
Departing team take down their gun.
‘Relief’ erect their cleaner one.
When thro’ the sandbag comes a stunner,
That hits the head of one poor gunner!
The Corp’ral, stained by blood and brains,
A horror-stricken stance sustains.
Pale moonlight lights up victim nigh,
Shows half a face, and one glazed eye.
Feeling dazed, and very weary,
Relieving leader poses query:
‘Is it fair to leave the R.B.s,
Marooned in water over their knees?’
To himself, ‘Why this compassion?
Surely you have had your ration.
Put these stupid fears aside,
Clear of the trench called “Suicide”!’
Back to base as in a trance,
Nothing alive in this wide expanse,
Weird, eerie moonlight over all,
Feet do falter, spirits do pall!
See there mistily arisen,
Figure tall, as in a vision.
Gaze fixed on Corp’ral most benign,
No movement makes, nor any sign!
Fades mysterious as he came,
Guide does quickly his strength regain,
‘Was it wraith, or quite plainly nought?
Were mind and body overwrought?’
Almost sounds like ‘days of yore’,
Half a century’s gone, and more.
Corp’ral sighs – ‘Still pride and greed
Do make these wars, do sow the seed!’