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Siegfried Sassoon

Suicide in the Trenches

I KNEW a simple soldier boy
Who grinned at life in empty joy,
Slept soundly through the lonesome dark,
And whistled early with the lark.

In winter trenches, cowed and glum,
With crumps and lice and lack of rum,
He put a bullet through his brain.
No one spoke of him again.

     ·     ·     ·     ·

You smug-faced crowds with kindling eye
Who cheer when soldier lads march by,
Sneak home and pray you’ll never know
The hell where youth and laughter go.

About the poet
Siegfried Sassoon
 
By the same poet
Does It Matter?
Counter-Attack
Ancient History
Dreamers
Absolution
‘Blighters’
Everyone Sang
Base Details
Glory of Women
The General
The Last Meeting
The Poet as Hero
Survivors
To Any Dead Officer
The Hero
Aftermath
Attack
Sick Leave
The Dug-Out
 
Related books
Siegfried Sassoon at amazon.co.uk

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