Trench Duty by Siegfried Sassoon
Shaken from sleep, and numbed and scarce awake,
Out in the trench with three hoursâ€™ watch to take,
I blunder through the splashing mirk; and then
Hear the gruff muttering voices of the men
Crouching in cabins candle-chinked with light.
Hark! Thereâ€™s the big bombardment on our right
Rumbling and bumping; and the darkâ€™s a glare
Of flickering horror in the sectors where
We raid the Boche; men waiting, stiff and chilled,
Or crawling on their bellies through the wire.
â€˜What? Stretcher-bearers wanted? Some one killed?â€™
Five minutes ago I heard a sniper fire:
Why did he do it? ... Starlight overheadâ€”
Blank stars. Iâ€™m wide-awake; and some chapâ€™s dead.