by Siegfried Lorraine Sassoon (1886 - 1967)

You love us when we’re heroes, home on...
Language: English 
You love us when we’re heroes, home on leave,
Or wounded in a mentionable place.
You worship decorations; you believe
That chivalry redeems the war’s disgrace.
You make us shells. You listen with delight,
By tales of dirt and danger fondly thrilled.
You crown our distant ardours while we fight,
And mourn our laurelled memories when we’re killed.
You can’t believe that British troops ‘retire’
When hell’s last horror breaks them, and they run,
Trampling the terrible corpses—blind with blood.
  O German mother dreaming by the fire, 
  While you are knitting socks to send your son
  His face is trodden deeper in the mud.

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Researcher for this text: Malcolm Wren [Guest Editor]

This text was added to the website: 2018-08-31
Line count: 14
Word count: 104