World War One - A Soldier's Life

A poem I wrote as a assignment in History class. It's about a soldier's life at that dark era. Done while we were studying war poetry. It's very very long, so beware! Not for the weak-stomached. Note: I changed some parts of it.

In the deep dark trenches,

There is no life.

For men no longer live

They walk on a dangerous land.

Rotting bodies piled up high

The smells are indescribably bitter,

Like tears of good friends.

We only hope for something better.

The trench water is muddy,

With blood and dirt

Swirling together

The scene tearing apart the soul.

 

We are terrorized by trenchfoot, where

swelling toes

puffy legs

look like potatoes.

We don't like frostbite, either;

It bites so hard.

As we freeze,

Our dropped off limbs look like coal covered with lard.

 

Bugs, lice

Crawl in our pants,

These small terrors colored like rice.

Creeping, crawling, sucking,

Little vermins.

 

Our rations, too bad,

Are disgusting and greasy,

Nearly inedible.

I wonder how the rats can eat something so queasy.

If we don't die,

Of artillery bombardments,

It's maybe the pie.

Argh! Curse the beast

So vile and soggy

That has risen from yeast,

The wet, infamous bread.

As I look at my rum, I ask my general:

"Where is my beer?"

The general merely sneered:

"You don't get beer, you volunteer!"

 

All we can hope

In this living hell

Is that it could be worse,

And it will end up well.

 

As the men gather for warmth,

They talk about going over the top;

Some cry, some laugh, some pray solemnly,

Some worry about going POP!

Men write to their loved ones,

Asking if they are well.

Far away, away elsewhere

The ringing of the church bell,

Echoes eerily.

 

Suddenly, lightning-fast,

The whistle,

Had men up and ready to go over the top.

The echoes of the whistle, sharp as thistle,

Forced them to dry their tears and run.

Rushing, like they've never run before,

And falling, dying, bleeding;

 

Therefore,

Do you still think, the war is so glorious?

Author's Note

Are there any problems understanding the military terms? Do you think this viewpoint is too biased? Do you agree with this poem? Are there any language problems? Et cetera.