THE LOSSES OF WAR
(trench warfare, 1915)
I'm wearing my pith helmet
again, and there's no foxhole
to be found. Just these war-line
ditches of mud and blood.
-
Hagerty's arm and hand, I think
I just passed; the rest of him
somewhere else. We were
trench-mates five hours ago.
-
I am forced now to be crawling
through this slime, as survivors
do. I hear Cady in pain, in a
scream from his brain. Another
man down and gone too.
-
The brass who are sending us
out, through these pissing
crevasses of nothing, know
nothing of what this is like,
nor our plight. They are bastards
all - if we do not return to them,
it will be alright; no matter,
no difference to make.
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