Simon Russell Beale, "Corporal Stare" from The Pity of War: Songs and Poems of Wartime Suffering (The Last Angry Man)
Commentary: "Corporal Stare" is a poem authored by Robert Graves (1895-1985); read here by Simon Russell Beale, it is as haunting as the eponymous non-commissioned officer. The lance corporal above was named Thomas Alfred Payne. What became of him after this photograph was taken I cannot say.
Back from the line one night in June,
I gave a dinner at Bethune—
Seven courses, the most gorgeous meal
Money could buy or batmen steal.
Five hungry lads welcomed the fish
With shouts that nearly cracked the dish;
Asparagus came with tender tops,
Strawberries in cream, and mutton chops.
Said Jenkins, as my hand he shook,
"They'll put this in the history book."
We bawled Church anthems in choro
Of Bethlehem and Hermon snow,
With drinking songs, a jolly sound
To help the good red Pommard round.
Stories and laughter interspersed,
We drowned a long La Bassée thirst—
Trenches in June make throats damned dry.
When through the window, suddenly,
Badge, stripes, and medals all complete,
We saw him swagger up the street,
Just like a live man—Corporal Stare!
Stare! Killed last May at Festubert.
Caught on patrol near the Boche wire,
Torn horribly by machine-gun fire!
He paused, saluted smartly, grinned,
Then passed away like a puff of wind,
Leaving us blank astonishment.
The song broke, up we started, leant
Out of the window—nothing there,
Not the least shadow of Corporal Stare,
Only a quiver of smoke that showed
A fag-end dropped on the silent road.
Have a happy Hallowe'en, everyone, & remember, I pray thee, that the dead are not so far from we the living as we like to pretend. They are our brothers & sisters, we are their sons & daughters. We & they are more the same than we & they are different. One day, all the dead will rise, saints & sinners alike, & we shall all stand together before the great & terrible judgment seat of the Lamb of God.
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