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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=519037" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>To Any Dead Officer</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Well, how are things in Heaven? I wish you’d say, <br>Because I’d like to know that you’re all right. <br>Tell me, have you found everlasting day, <br>Or been sucked in by everlasting night? <br>For when I shut my eyes your face shows plain;<br>I hear you make some cheery old remark— <br>I can rebuild you in my brain, <br>Though you’ve gone out patrolling in the dark. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">You hated tours of trenches; you were proud <br>Of nothing more than having good years to spend;<br>Longed to get home and join the careless crowd <br>Of chaps who work in peace with Time for friend. <br>That’s all washed out now. You’re beyond the wire: <br>No earthly chance can send you crawling back; <br>You’ve finished with machine-gun fire— <br>Knocked over in a hopeless dud-attack. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Somehow I always thought you’d get done in, <br>Because you were so desperate keen to live: <br>You were all out to try and save your skin, <br>Well knowing how much the world had got to give.<br>You joked at shells and talked the usual ‘shop,’ <br>Stuck to your dirty job and did it fine: <br>With ‘Jesus Christ! when will it stop? <br>Three years ... It’s hell unless we break their line.’ </div><div style="margin:10px 0">So when they told me you’d been left for dead<br>I wouldn’t believe them, feeling it must be true. <br>Next week the bloody Roll of Honour said <br>‘Wounded and missing’—(That’s the thing to do <br>When lads are left in shell-holes dying slow, <br>With nothing but blank sky and wounds that ache,<br>Moaning for water till they know <br>It’s night, and then it’s not worth while to wake!)</div><div style="margin:10px 0">. . . . <br>Good-bye, old lad! Remember me to God, <br>And tell Him that our Politicians swear <br>They won’t give in till Prussian Rule’s been trod<br>Under the Heel of England ... Are you there?... <br>Yes ... and the War won’t end for at least two years; <br>But we’ve got stacks of men ... I’m blind with tears, <br>Staring into the dark. Cheerio! <br>I wish they’d killed you in a decent show.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Siegfried+Sassoon">Siegfried Sassoon</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=519037" data-title="To Any Dead Officer de Siegfried Sassoon" data-description="Well, how are things in Heaven? I wish you’d say, 
Because I’d like to know that you’re all right. 
Tell me, have you found everlasting day, 
Or been sucked in by everlasting night? 
For when I shut my eyes your face shows plain;
I hear you ..."></div>
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