# Stand-to: Good Friday Morning

I’d been on duty from two till four.

I went and stared at the dug-out door.

Down in the frowst I heard them snore.

“Stand-to!” Somebody grunted and swore.

Dawn was misty; the skies were still;

Larks were singing, discordant, shrill;

They seemed happy; but I felt ill.

Deep in water I splashed my way

Up the trench to our bogged front line.

Rain had fallen the whole damned night.

O Jesus, send me a wound to-day,

And I’ll believe in Your bread and wine,

And get my bloody old sins washed white!

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