Today being Armistice day, I thought it only appropriate to write a post related to it. Below is one of the most well known WWI poems, written by Wilfred Owen. It is a hauntingly vivid portrayal of just how horrific war really is.
Bent double, like old beggars under sacks,
Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge,
Till on the haunting flares we turned our backs,
And towards our distant rest began to trudge.
Men marched asleep. Many had lost their boots,
But limped on, blood-shod. All went lame; all blind;
Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hoots
Of gas-shells dropping softly behind.
Gas! GAS! Quick, boys!—An ecstasy of fumbling