The Assault
The beating of the guns grows louder.
'Not long, boys, now.'
My heart burns whiter, fearfuller, prouder;
Hurricanes grow
As guns redouble their fire.
Through the shaken periscope peeping
I glimpse their wire:
Black earth, fountains of earth rise, leaping,
Spouting like shocks of meeting waves.
Death's fountains are playing,
Shells like shrieking birds rush over;
Crash and din rises higher.
A stream of lead raves
Over us from the left… (we safe under cover!)
Crash. Reverberation. Crash!
Acrid smoke billowing. Flash upon flash.
Black smoke drifting. The German line
Vanishes in confusion, smoke. Cries, and cry
Of our men, 'Gah! yer swime,
You're for it,' die
In a hurricane of shell….
One cry;
'We're comin' soon! look out!'
There is opened hell
Over there. Fragments fly,
Rifles and bits of men whirled at the sky:
Dust, smoke, thunder. A sudden bout
Of machine-guns chattering….
And redoubled battering
As if in fury at their daring….
No good staring.
Time soon now… home… house on a sunlit hill….
Gone like a flickered page.
Time soon now… zero… will engage…
A sudden thrill.
'Fix bayonets.'
Gods! we have our fill
Of fear, hysteria, exultation, rage -
Rage to kill….
My heart burns hot, whiter and whiter,
Contracts tighter and tighter,
Until I stifle with the will
Long forged, now used -
(Though utterly strained)
O pounding heart,
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poem by Robert Nichols
Added by Poetry Lover
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