DIED OF WOUNDS
His wet white face and miserable eyes
Brought nurses to him more than groans and sighs;
But hoarse and low and rapid rose and fell
His troubled voice: he did the business well.
The ward grew dark; but he was still complaining
And calling out for 'Dickie'. 'Curse the Wood!
It's time to go, O Christ, and what's the good?
We'll never take it, and it's always raining.'
I wondered where he'd been; then heard him shout,
'They snipe like hell! O Dickie, don't go out'...
I fell asleep.... Next morning he was dead;
And some Slight Wound lay smiling on the bed.
by Siegried Sassoon
About the poet:
Siegried Sassoon was born on the 8th September 1886. He was a poet, writer, and soldier and was decorated for bravery on the Western Front.
Sassoon became a focal point for dissent within the armed forces when he made a lone protest against the continuation of the war in his "Soldier's Declaration" of 1917, culminating in his admission to a mental hospital; this resulted in his forming a friendship with Wilfred Owen, who was greatly influenced by him. Sassoon later won acclaim for his prose work, notably his three-volume fictionalised autobiography, collectively known as the "Sherston Trilogy".
He died, aged 80, on 1st September 1967 of stomach cancer.