There is relief, as they have safely put on their masks, but one man was still shouting, still stumbling about, like he was “in fire or lime”, he was the unlucky one. The one who could not get his mask on in time. The only thing that anyone else could do is watch. They watched him, as if he was “under a green sea”, because of the thick green chlorine gas. They watched him ‘drown’. He lunges at Owen, spluttering and choking, but there is nothing he can do, his fate is sealed, he is already dead.
Next, he describes the scene soon after, as the gas has cleared, and they are getting rid of the casualties. Owen watched men throw the dead soldier into the back of a lorry. He refers to us as ‘you’, but he is not actually referring to the reader, he is talking to the politicians, and people back home who more or less force the young men to sign up, pressuring them, and calling them cowards if they don’t join. He is asking those people to try and imagine what he has been through, “watching the white eyes writhing in his face” the man’s eyes are still gazing, with the look of death on them, like “the Devil’s sick of sin”, he describes the look on the dead soldiers face, as if even the devil does not want a part of this. He can hear “blood come gargling from the froth corrupted lungs, obscene as cancer, bitter as the cud of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues”, the body is now decomposing, it is being burnt by the liquid from the inside, and is leaking blood from the lungs, he tells ‘you’ that if you could hear the sound of the blood, you “would not tell with such high zest, to children ardent for some desperate glory, the old lie: Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori” He means that they would not tell the children, who want to hear war stories, the lie ‘It is sweet and fitting to die for your country.’
The next poem I will study is ‘The sentry’. This poem, unlike ‘Dulce et decorum est’ is set in the trenches, and again, Owen Starts off by describing what is happening around him.
They had taken over a Boche (German) dugout, which was a shelter built into the sides of trenches, which gave reasonably good cover from shells and bullets. The Germans know that it has been taken over, and so they are constantly firing shells at the position, “hammered on top, but never quite burst through”. Even though, at any time, one direct hit could completely destroy it. It is raining, and that rain is “guttering” down the muddy walls, in what Owen describes as ‘waterfalls’. This became a sea of mud, which gets deeper by the hour. As if this isn’t bad enough, the air is pungent, the fumes of whizz-bangs (burnt cordite, as overpowering smell), the smell of the men, who stank, as there was rarely a time for a decent wash up when in the midst of battle. And the worst of all, the smell of rotting flesh, as bodies were often torn apart by shells, and impossible to dispose of, bodies that were buried by shellfire were often exposed over time, with arms and legs poking out of trench walls.
But still, the men cowered in there, because of the cover it gave from the barrage. Owen describes it as “herded” likening the conditions to those suffered by animals. A sentry was necessary, even during a barrage, to keep a look out for any advancing enemy troops, and to warn the other soldiers to get out of cover and get ready to fight. This was essential, because if they were caught off guard, and were all taking cover in dugouts, they would be easily killed by the enemy. Until, one shell hits the entrance of the dugout, and the immense pressure change takes away the men’s breath, and puts out the candles. The sentry, who must usually stand outside, but Owen, being an officer, allowed the sentry to take cover in the entrance of the dugout has been thrown back by the blast, and is then pulled from the entrance, he is believed to be dead, but suddenly shouts “O sir, my eyes – I’m blind – I’m blind!”. Owen then holds a flame up to his “huge-bulged, like squids” eyes, because, if he could see any light at all, this meant that he would probably make a recovery. But, he cannot see a light. He will probably be blind for the rest of his life. Owen says that the image still haunts him, “watch my dreams still”. Owen calls for a stretcher.
Now, he is concentrating on bringing order back to the trench, he is trying not to concentrate on the “sentry’s moans and jumps, and the wild chattering of his broken teeth” of which he is reminded every time a shell lands from the ongoing barrage. Although, at that moment, through the intense noise, he hears the shout of the sentry, “I see your lights!”. His vision is saved, and, with this kind of would, he will probably be sent home. The sentry’s war is over. But Owen finishes with the haunting line “But ours had long died out”. Most of the men on the front, including Owen, will die. Their fate is death. They have no hope left.
After reading these poems, I have realised there are some similarities between the two. They are both structured in the ABAB style of writing, also, they both start off with a hugely detailed description of the surroundings and the situation that Owen and his men are in. But most obviously, and most importantly of all, they are strongly anti-war, they tell of the truths of war, they tell of what is happening everyday to soldiers of both sides.
By David Cruise
