The Rear-Guard

Siegfried Sassoon

Groping along the tunnel,

    step by step,

He winked his prying torch

    with patching glare

From side to side, and sniffed

    the unwholesome air.

Tins, boxes, bottles, shapes

    too vague to know,

A mirror smashed, the

    mattress from a bed;

And he, exploring fifty feet

    below

The rosy gloom of battle

    overhead.

Tripping, he grabbed the

    wall; saw some one lie

Humped at his feet,

    half-hidden by a rug,

And stooped to give the

    sleeper’s arm a tug,

“I’m looking for

    headquarters,” No reply,

“God blast your neck!” (For

    days he’d had no sleep.)

“Get up and guide me

    through this stinking

    place.”

Savage, he kicked a soft,

    unanswering heap,

And flashed his beam across

    the livid face

Terribly glaring up, whose

    eyes yet wore

Agony dying hard ten days

    before;

And fists of fingers clutched

    a blackening wound.

Alone he staggered on until

    he found

Dawn’s ghost that filtered

    down a shafted stair

To the dazed, muttering

    creatures underground

Who hear the boom of

    shells in muffled sound.

At last, with sweat of horror

    in his hair,

He climbed through

    darkness to the twilight

    air,

Unloading hell behind him

    step by step.

—1918