Gasping and bawling, “Fire-step… counter-attack!”

Then the haze lifted. Bombing on the right

Down the old sap: machine-guns on the left;

And stumbling figures looming out in front.

“O Christ, they’re coming at us!” Bullets spat,

And he remembered his rifle… rapid fire…

And started blazing wildly… then a bang

Crumpled and spun him sideways, knocked him out

To grunt and wriggle: none heeded him; he choked

And fought the flapping veils of smothering gloom,

Lost in a blurred confusion of yells and groans….

Down, and down, and down, he sank and drowned,

Bleeding to death. The counter-attack had failed.

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