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Sonnets from a prison camp

Chapter 18: XIII
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About This Book

A sequence of sonnets composed by a soldier in enemy captivity during the First World War, recording frontline violence, the suddenness of bombardment, marches and captures, the strain of waiting and the loss of comrades, and the solace found in memory and poetic labour. Many poems juxtapose immediate scenes—exploding shrapnel, crowded billets, marches, and internment camps—with reveries of homeland landscapes and classical or moral reflections. Sections move between field incidents, the nadir of imprisonment, thoughts of home and influences, and short epigrams or maxims, showing how verse acted as a mental bulwark against despair while exploring themes of fate, endurance, and the persistence of inner freedom.

XIII

Gray figures stealing, and a headlong dash
From hedge to house, from house again to hedge,
And fifty rifles levelled on the ledge!
One instant on the aim, and then, the crash!
He went to earth, and vanished in a flash.
And there once more was house, and there was hedge,
With sprouting field, and farm, and ditch with sedge,
And crop-head pollard row and leafless ash—
A cheerless landscape gray, and the profound
Loneliness of the battlefield. The next
Moment trench-mortar shells were on our head;
Another, and the day was sealed and fixed
On front and flank. Among the stricken dead,
One in the skull, behind, his summons found.

Rastatt, 1st May