Writing a poem in the mud as the whistle says over the top!
He shouted “Stop!”
“Stop being stupid you’ll all die they mean to shoot you now what’s this all about?”
“My feet are freezing will you shoot me if I want to go home?”
“Right let’s crack on then, how do you spell decorum est? Rhymes with vest, or Jest, or taking the Piss try it now you Mugs!”
“You murdering Officer Scum rhyme that with hate.”
Yet hate is a broad brush to paint with as well I know, but for this, this is what it is.
A poem for your stupidity for murdering your Sons who followed past you and smelt death.
As you read about it in your dispatches Bastard Officer Bastard Officer.
Contempt I feel for you stupid Men, and when in despair as the shells shocked their sanity and they held out a hand
for you to help.
You murdered them against a wall with military bravado as I would do each and every Bastard One of you. Who failed to see sense and failed to pity a poor Private soldier who gave up the fight because he no longer knew what was wrong or what was right.
And No Mans Land was right.