In the days preceding Remembrance Sunday we have been studying the poems of Wilfred Owen and Siegfried Sassoon. We have also been writing some of our own poems, based on what we have learned about the experience of trench warfare on the Western Front in World War I. Here are some examples of our work.
As the sun rises I sit in a rat infested trench Letting my nerves run wild As I dread zero hour. Fear and horror food through my vains What if I go over and never return? My hands shake from fear and clod. As the captain puts his whistle To his mouth. My time has come. I climb the ladder I take a deep breath and start marching. I sense bullets as they fly past Like angry birds. I see comrades fall on either side And I can do nothing to help. I keep marching, marching. by Christian Maden.
Why me? Roaring, belching from the cannons, Zero hour is coming, My body trembling, Why me? Zero hour is here, All the shattering gone, The silence deafening, Why me? There is the sinful whistle blowing, Up over the muddy trench, My legs like lead, Why me? All around me men falling, My life in slow motion Bullets flying like a swarm of bees This is torture Why me? My time has come I’m ready, My heart leaving my soul, My fear has gone. Ciara
I HOPE NOT!
Sipping my sour rum Counting down the minutes When I climb the ladder Will I climb all the way to heaven? I hope not! I hope not! Zero hour has come As we cross no man’s land Will I do it ? Will I not? Will I get hit? I hope not! I hope not! Bullets whizzing past my head My friend get’s hit One more gone A lot more deaths to come I hope not!I hope not! Back in the trench Everyone asleep. Bullets come like dozens of bees Five nines exploding Did someone forget thier gas mask? I hope not! I hope not! One man lying on the floor Eyes rolled back I can not take any more Did anyone else die? I hope not?I hope not! Zero hour coming back. Will I die or will I come back? Zero hour here I climb up and hope for the best But then I get shot Will I go to hell? I HOPE NOT! I HOPE NOT!
Sitting there shivering,waiting For zero hour to strike. Quietly sipping the sweet rum. I stare into a picture of my wife And my child. Sitting there making myself feel Proud about fighting in this war. I dream about my friend climbing over the trench wall,getting shot down. Sitting there,trying to think about going home to my wonderful wife. I knew it would soon all be over for Me and my comrades. Sitting there,being frightened about When I go home and my wife wouldn’t be there Any more. Suddenly zero hour struck.I slowly trembled out Of the dark muddy trench I felt powerless As a bullet flew past my ear like an angry Shark diving for prey. BANG My time was suddenly over nothing was Around me any more.It was like I was lost In the white world and I drifted through the Air.To heaven.
I Hate It The terror The horror The madness all round I hate it. The scream of dying soldiers The fear of my death My hands are trembling and so are the others I hate it. The spraying bullets from rifles’ The lice and the rats The artillery pounding and booming I hate it. No mans land and zero hour ,my darkest fear The nausea is making me spew The shame and the misery as I watch my friend die I hate it The bullets are like bees’ as they whizz past ears The machine gun mowing us all down My Sergeant-Major shouting at me I hate it. I feel as I’m dead already The Devil is waiting for me Is this my death? I don’t know I hate it By Cullin
As I Wait
As I stand waiting for the deathly whistle to blow, my life flashes before me. And all of a sudden a tear starts to appear in my eyes. Five minutes to zero hour. As machine guns split the sky the artillery finally falls silent. Birds start singing but soon they are drowned out Two minutes to zero hour. And shells are cracking the earth as they explode and make a crater people are smashing there rum cups together hoping that will make them less scared. One minute to zero hour. I stand on the firestep as bullets go flying pass me like a swarm of angry wasps. The whistle blows for us to go over the top but I am so shell shocked “BANG” a gun was fired.
OH how I wish I could be with my wonderful wife and children chattering in my ear. OH how I wish This nightmare of life and death Would fade away And finish. OH how I wish This war will be declared over And finished So we can claim our victory. OH how I wish The bullets whizzing and flying Past me will stop. OH how I wish I could taste my mother’s Delicious and scrumptious food in my mouth Instead of bully beef and biscuits. OH how I wish I could live to see another Day and not get shot by the enemy. OH how I wish I could find A way to save my friend who is falling from the ladder of the trench. Oh how I wish I could be saved From this painful wound And not be dying on the floor . By Olivia
How can you just smile?
How can you just smile, When all these bombs are dropping, When they breathe in fatal gas, As the bullets fly by? How can you just smile, When buildings are collapsing, When they’re sinking in the trenches, Like the devil’s pulling you down further and further? How can you just smile, When they walk on no-mans land, When machine guns are firing, As they go over the top? How can you just smile, When innocent people are dying, When walls close in on victims, Like badness is trapping them inside? How can you just smile, When this war is never-ending, When nobody is happy, And you’re the only one smiling? By Sadie
At Zero Hour At zero hour, The whistle cried out Which carried the fatigued Soldiers back into hell. At zero hour, Death began to control And they dropped like flies Again and again. At zero hour, The birds began to keen As they saw the remains of Their old homes. At zero hour, The machine guns Started to scream as They began to realise what They have done. At zero hour, The ground began To erupt as a mine Was set off. At zero hour, The pounding of shells Leaping from their artillery And running through the air Into enemy lines. By Samuel What War Is And then the bullets fired, We were all shivering like trembling leaves in a rainfall. We sat in the trench waiting, Will this ever be over? Will we survive? John sat down as sang Some songs, to lift our spirits. Then the rum ration came And we knew Our moment had come. The bombs were cracking the heavens with anger! We heard the squelching of the mud While everyman was walking past. As we trudged Into no-mans land Towards our deaths And for what? By Sophie