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The Night Before.

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The Night Before Darkness has just come over like a sheet descending on a bed, the silence only disturbed by the hooting of an owl nearby; the stars are shining brightly. One man said for every star in the sky there is a man who has died in the war. It's funny because I could swear that there are more stars in that sky every night. The smell, that gut-wrenching smell that is constantly there hanging over my head. It used to be that you could smell the tea being made in the morning, now I can no longer tell if anything is being made, it's even hard to tell the difference between someone's shit and the decaying bodies both dead and alive. However there's something worse than the smell: the rain, the rain that soaks the mud and blinds the eyes, the rain that makes the smell even worse and the need for a bath ever more present. ...read more.


I can remember in my naivety thinking it would be a short war in which no one would die; me and the lads all went and signed up except the lads are dead and in the morning I think I will be too. Though it won't be too bad, I'm not married and have no kids, so it could be worse though how I don't know. I longed for the day that I would one day walk up the aisle not only to marry but to give my daughter away. I suppose in a way the thought of home is keeping me sane at the minute. I remember earlier in the day when we were told that it was "our day" to help win the war. But how many people have been told that before, how many people have been read the same patronising speech while our great general is not here in a physical state, he is in the spiritual form. ...read more.


The comfort though for my family is that everyone on our street has lost a son so mum won't be alone. I see the sun has started to rise, the owl has stopped but the cockerel has taken over the noise making. The time is drawing near and I have had no sleep but I suppose I am going to for an eternal sleep, so all is not lost in a strange way. People often say that heaven is on earth. If that's true I dread to think what heaven I am awaiting. But if I get through this then I promise, I will buy a quiet piece of land in which to live out my quiet life and never speak of this hell again; this hell that is life and the horror that is war. If anyone ever asks how much mental torture can one man suffer, tell them to ask a survivor of the great war; then ask why it is called the great war? ...read more.

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This student written piece of work is one of many that can be found in our AS and A Level War Poetry section.

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