I’d been on duty from two till four. <br />I went and stared at the dug-out door. <br />Down in the frowst I heard them snore. <br />‘Stand to!’ Somebody grunted and swore. <br />Dawn was misty; the skies were still; <br />Larks were singing, discordant, shrill; <br />They seemed happy; but I felt ill. <br />Deep in water I splashed my way <br />Up the trench to our bogged front line. <br />Rain had fallen the whole damned night. <br />O Jesus, send me a wound to-day, <br />And I’ll believe in Your bread and wine, <br />And get my bloody old sins washed white!<br /><br />Siegfried Sassoon<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/stand-to-good-friday-morning/
