MR. MISANTHROPE
(at the Ypres salient, WW1)
Two thousand troops are dead on the border, mustard
gas I guess on their hot dogs already too late. The carping
officers are standing in a line muttering over 'their' losses.
'What more can we do now with just so few men left?'
These trenches, they mutter, now filled with blood and
corruption; this carnage can't just keep going on.
Hide the canisters and bring up more men.
Soon t'will again be time for a truce.
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