by Siegfried Sassoon
Quietly they set their burden down: he tried
To grin; moaned; moved his head from side to side.
He gripped the stretcher; stiffened; glared; and screamed,
"O put my leg down, doctor, do!" (He'd got
A bullet in his ankle; and he'd been shot
Horribly through the guts.) The surgeon seemed
So kind and gentle, saying, above that crying,
"You must keep still, my lad." But he was dying.
Last updated January 14, 2019