Creeping back to the cross
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(A belated reply to that too-numerous body of field padres of all denominations, who, to the discredit of the fighting men during the Great War, used to boast that the perils and tortures of the Front Line had reaped a rich harvest for the Churches.) |
by
Anthony M. Ludovici
The New English Weekly 2, 1932–33, p. 90
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When all advance is stopped and the defeat
Of companies that flank you bars retreat;
When your last cartridges have long been spent
And all have suffered heavy punishment;
When friends are lying either maimed or dead,
Or else got windy early on and fled;
When wounds gape menacingly and your thirst
Invades your lips and causes them to burst;
When all that keeps the enemy at bay
Is just the gath'ring dusk of dying day
And morning waits the sun of yonder hill
To come down from the eastern sky to kill.
Then, if you're not the weakling one whose way
In wretchedness and torture is to stray
Back to the God of weaklings in dismay —
In short, if you don't feel the need to pray —
Then, be you pagan, boor, or atheist,
The world is yours to do with as you list! |
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