Stand-To: Good Friday Morning

 I’d been on duty from two till four.
 
I went and stared at the dug-out door.
 
Down in the frowst I heard them snore.
 
‘Stand to!’ Somebody grunted and swore.
 
Dawn was misty; the skies were still;
Larks were singing, discordant, shrill; 
They seemed happy; but I felt ill.
 
Deep in water I splashed my way 
Up the trench to our bogged front line.
 
Rain had fallen the whole damned night.
 
O Jesus, send me a wound to-day, 
And I’ll believe in Your bread and wine, 
And get my bloody old sins washed white!

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