The Great War: A poetic salute to 1918

The Great War: A Poetic Salute to 1918

As 1918 dawned the protagonists in the Great War, exhausted after 41 months of devastating and unremitting slaughter on the Western Front, teetered on the brink of defeat or victory. The Allies were clinging on desperately awaiting the arrival of the full might of the American military machine to save them from catastrophe; the German high command was gathering up its scanty resources to mount one final assault that might lead to victory.

1918 would be the year of decision; the year of attrition; the year of victory or defeat. The Gods threw the dice and the cubes were rolling.

 

The Battle of the Somme

(1 July, 1916. The Curtain Raiser)

The red-tabbed generals at GHQ

safe in their warm chateau

plotting the battles, moving the troops

oblivious to what they don’t know

For five days and nights the guns

hurled shells over the soldiers’ head

then “Good news” said the generals

“ the wire’s cut, the Germans are dead”

Birds were singing that morning

a beautiful sunny day to greet July

The troops petrified in the trenches

knew it was there turn to die.

At 7.30am on that summer day

by the light of the rising sun

a mine under the enemy erupted

The Battle of the Somme had begun

Right along the allied trenches

the whistles started the great attack

many men went over the top

So few of them came back

Officers were on the parapet

Encouraging and giving a hand

Helping the men from the trenches

to head out into No Mans Land

No Mans Land is a deadly place

Only terror and death lurk there

Littered with the dead and wounded

and men petrified with fear

By midday the Great Push was over

the survivors back behind their lines

The rest wounded, dead or missing

fodder to the guns shells and mines.

The dead lay in endless rows

victims of the machine guns rattle

offered up at the generals’ whim

and slaughtered there like cattle

Twenty thousand in khaki died that day

Twice that number shattered or lost

The generals for days unaware

What the dreadful human cost

God looked down on the battlefield

and wept at the carnage he saw

The Somme set the gold standard

for the slaughter of the Great War

 

PRO EXEMPLO

For the sake of example” said the General

dipping the pen in the inkwell

to sign the Court Martial death warrant

to send another soldier to hell

The condemned man was marched

to his final place of detention

to wait the short time remaining

with fear and terrified apprehension

The padre comforted the man

talking and helping him to pray

Anything to prolong the last night

and delay the birth of a new day

As dawn broke over the countryside

the prisoner blindfolded and bound

was taken to the place of execution

to be tied to a stake in the ground

A piece of white cloth was fixed

to the condemned man’s grubby vest

To mark the site of his beating heart

the target on the terrified breast

The firing party was drawn up ready

rifles preloaded – there was one blank

the scene was now a clear example

to the troops lined up on the bank

In order to ease the prisoner’s terror

no shouted orders to the firing squad

pre-arranged signals to be given

to despatch the soldier to his God.

Then the final firing signal came

The one each squad man would dread

Pull the trigger, a burst of cordite

The prisoner made an example – was dead

The deceased wrapped in a blanket

Was buried near where he fell

no one there with word or prayer

and no toll of the funeral bell

“A good job done” said the General

“On military law troops cannot trample

That fellow had to be shot sir

Simply for the sake of example.”

 

Copyright © Bill Conroy, 2016 


Written by Bill Conroy

Bill Conroy is a Tauranga based freelance writer and poet with a particular interest in historical non-fiction and composing WW1 poetry.

Read more from Bill on GrownUps here.