Quietly they set their burden down: he tried <br />To grin; moaned; moved his head from side to side. <br /> <br />He gripped the stretcher; stiffened; glared; and screamed, <br />'O put my leg down, doctor, do!' (He'd got <br />A bullet in his ankle; and he'd been shot <br />Horribly through the guts.) The surgeon seemed <br />So kind and gentle, saying, above that crying, <br />'You <br />must <br />keep still, my lad.' But he was dying.<br /><br />Siegfried Sassoon<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/in-an-underground-dressing-station/
