The Fathers by Siegfried Sassoon
Snug at the club two fathers sat,
Gross, goggle-eyed, and full of chat.
One of them said: â€˜My eldest lad
Writes cheery letters from Bagdad.
But Arthurâ€™s getting all the fun
At Arras with his nine-inch gun.â€™
â€˜Yes,â€™ wheezed the other, â€˜thatâ€™s the luck!
My boyâ€™s quite broken-hearted, stuck
In England training all this year.
Still, if thereâ€™s truth in what we hear,
The Huns intend to ask for more
Before they bolt across the Rhine.â€™
I watched them toddle through the doorâ€”
These impotent old friends of mine.