| Louis Untermeyer, ed. (1885–1977). Modern British Poetry. 1920. |
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| Siegfried Sassoon. 1886– |
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| 144. The Rear-Guard |
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| GROPING along the tunnel, step by step, | |
| He winked his prying torch with patching glare | |
| From side to side, and sniffed the unwholesome air. | |
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| Tins, boxes, bottles, shapes too vague to know, | |
| A mirror smashed, the mattress from a bed; | 5 |
| And he, exploring fifty feet below | |
| The rosy gloom of battle overhead. | |
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| Tripping, he grabbed the wall; saw someone lie | |
| Humped at his feet, half-hidden by a rug, | |
| And stooped to give the sleeper's arm a tug. | 10 |
| "I'm looking for headquarters." No reply. | |
| "God blast your neck!" (For days he'd had no sleep.) | |
| "Get up and guide me through this stinking place." | |
| Savage, he kicked a soft, unanswering heap, | |
| And flashed his beam across the livid face | 15 |
| Terribly glaring up, whose eyes yet wore | |
| Agony dying hard ten days before; | |
| And fists of fingers clutched a blackening wound. | |
| Alone he staggered on until he found | |
| Dawn's ghost that filtered down a shafted stair | 20 |
| To the dazed, muttering creatures underground | |
| Who hear the boom of shells in muffled sound. | |
| At last, with sweat of horror in his hair, | |
| He climbed through darkness to the twilight air, | |
| Unloading hell behind him step by step. | 25 |
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