TRENCH DUTY
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haken from sleep, and numbed and scarce awake,Out in the trench with three hours' watch to take,I blunder through the splashing mirk; and thenHear the gruff muttering voices of the menCrouching in cabins candle-chinked with light.Hark! There's the big bombardment on our rightRumbling and bumping; and the dark's a glareOf flickering horror in the sectors whereWe raid the Boche; men waiting, stiff and chilled,Or crawling on their bellies through the wire."What? Stretcher-bearers wanted? Some one killed?"Five minutes ago I heard a sniper fire:Why did he do it?... Starlight overhead--Blank stars. I'm wide-awake; and some chap's dead.
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