Suicide in the trenches

I knew a simple soldier boy
Who grinned at life in empty joy
Slept soundly through the lonesome dark
And whistled early with the lark

In winter trenches, cowed and glum
With crumps and lice and lack of rum
He put a bullet through his brain
No one spoke of him again

You smug-faced crowds with kindling eye
Who cheer when soldier lads march by,
Sneak home and pray you'll never know
The hell where youth and laughter go.

Siegfried Sassoon

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