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64433: The Dead-Beat

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posted on 2024-04-19, 17:44 authored by First World War Poetry Digital Archive Project Team

He dropped,---more sullenly than wearily,
Lay stupid like a cod, heavy like meat,
And none of us could kick him to his feet;
---Just blinked at my revolver, blearily;
---Didn't appear to know a war was on,
Or see the blasted trench at which he stared.
'I'll do 'em in,' he whined. 'If this hand's spared,
I'll murder them, I will.'
A low voice said,
'It's Blighty, p'raps, he sees; his pluck's all gone,
Dreaming of all the valiant, that aren't dead:
Bold uncles, smiling ministerially;
Maybe his brave young wife, getting her fun
In some new home, improved materially.
It's not these stiffs have crazed him; nor the Hun.'
We sent him down at last, out of the way.
Unwounded;---stout lad, too, before that strafe.
Malingering? Stretcher-bearers winked, 'Not half!'
Next day I heard the Doc's well-whiskied laugh:
'That scum you sent last night soon died. Hooray!'

History

Identifier

3388.txt

Creator

Owen, Wilfred (1893-1918)

Date

1983

Date Created

01/01/1983

Temporal Date

31/12/1983

Type

Poem

Rights

The Estate of Wilfred Owen. The Complete Poems and Fragments of Wilfred Owen edited by Jon Stallworthy first published by Chatto & Windus, 1983. Preliminaries, introductory, editorial matter, manuscripts and fragments omitted.

Repository Name

ProQuest

Publisher

The First World War Poetry Digital Archive

Usage metrics

    The Wilfred Owen Collection

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