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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=507835" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Assault</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">The beating of the guns grows louder.<br>'Not long, boys, now.'<br>My heart burns whiter, fearfuller, prouder;<br>Hurricanes grow<br>As guns redouble their fire.<br>Through the shaken periscope peeping<br>I glimpse their wire:<br>Black earth, fountains of earth rise, leaping,<br>Spouting like shocks of meeting waves.<br>Death's fountains are playing,<br>Shells like shrieking birds rush over;<br>Crash and din rises higher.<br>A stream of lead raves<br>Over us from the left… (we safe under cover!)<br>Crash. Reverberation. Crash!<br>Acrid smoke billowing. Flash upon flash.<br>Black smoke drifting. The German line<br>Vanishes in confusion, smoke. Cries, and cry<br>Of our men, 'Gah! yer swime,<br>You're for it,' die<br>In a hurricane of shell….<br>One cry;<br>'We're comin' soon! look out!'<br>There is opened hell<br>Over there. Fragments fly,<br>Rifles and bits of men whirled at the sky:<br>Dust, smoke, thunder. A sudden bout<br>Of machine-guns chattering….<br>And redoubled battering<br>As if in fury at their daring….</div><div style="margin:10px 0">No good staring.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Time soon now… home… house on a sunlit hill….</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Gone like a flickered page.<br>Time soon now… zero… will engage…</div><div style="margin:10px 0">A sudden thrill.<br>'Fix bayonets.'<br>Gods! we have our fill<br>Of fear, hysteria, exultation, rage -<br>Rage to kill….</div><div style="margin:10px 0">My heart burns hot, whiter and whiter,<br>Contracts tighter and tighter,<br>Until I stifle with the will<br>Long forged, now used -<br>(Though utterly strained)<br>O pounding heart,<br>Baffled, confused,<br>Heart panged, head singing dizzily pained -<br>To do my part.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Blindness a moment. Sick.<br>There the men are.<br>Bayonets ready: click!<br>Time goes quick;<br>A stumbled prayer… somehow a blazing star<br>In a blue night… where?<br>Again prayer.<br>The tongue trips. Start:<br>How's time? Soon now. Two minutes or less.<br>The guns' fury mounting higher.<br>Their utmost. I lift a silent hand. Unseen I bless<br>Those hearts will follow me.<br>And beautifully<br>Now beautifully my will grips.<br>Soul calm and round and filmed and white!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">A shout! 'Men, no such order as retire!'<br>I nod.<br>The whistle's twixt my lips….<br>I catch<br>A wan, worn smile at me.<br>Dear men!<br>The pale wrist-watch….<br>The quiet hand ticks on amid the din.<br>The guns again<br>Rise to a last fury, to a rage, a lust:<br>Kill! Pound! Kill! Pound! Pound!<br>Now comes the thrust,<br>My part… dizziness… will… but trust<br>These men. The great guns rise.<br>Their fury seems to burst the earth and skies!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">They - lift!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Gather, heart, all thoughts that drift;<br>Be steel, soul.<br>Compress thyself<br>Into a round, bright whole.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I cannot speak.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Time! Time!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I hear my whistle shriek<br>Between teeth set,<br>I fling an arm up,<br>Scramble up the grime<br>Over the parapet!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I'm up. Go on.<br>Something meets us.<br>Head down into the storm that greets us.<br>A wail!<br>Lights. Blurr.<br>Gone.<br>On, on. Lead. Lead. Hail.<br>Spatter. Whirr. Whirr.<br>'Toward that patch of brown,<br>Direction left.' Bullets: a stream.<br>Devouring thought crying in a dream;<br>Men, crumpled, going down….<br>Go on. Go.<br>Deafness, Numbness. The loudening tornado.<br>Bullets. Mud. Stumbling and skating.<br>My voice's strangled shout:-<br>'Steady pace, boys!'<br>The still light: gladness.<br>'Look, sir, look out!-'<br>Ha! Ha! Bunched figures waiting.<br>Revolver levelled: quick!<br>Flick! Flick!<br>Red as blood.<br>Germans. Germans.<br>Good! Oh, good!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Cool madness.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Robert+Nichols">Robert Nichols</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=507835" data-title="The Assault de Robert Nichols" data-description="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, ..."></div>
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