The boys came back. Bands played and flags were flying, <br />And Yellow-Pressmen thronged the sunlit street <br />To cheer the soldiers who’d refrained from dying, <br />And hear the music of returning feet. <br />‘Of all the thrills and ardours War has brought, <br />This moment is the finest.’ (So they thought.) <br /> <br />Snapping their bayonets on to charge the mob, <br />Grim Fusiliers broke ranks with glint of steel, <br />At last the boys had found a cushy job. <br /> <br />. . . . <br />I heard the Yellow-Pressmen grunt and squeal; <br />And with my trusty bombers turned and went <br />To clear those Junkers out of Parliament.<br /><br />Siegfried Sassoon<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/fight-to-a-finish/
