Poem – On the plains of Picardy

I’ve been reading The Somme: Heroism and Horror in the First World War this week. It is a book penned by Martin Gilbert, and discusses the appalling loss of human life during the Somme campaign of World War I. Throughout, Mr. Gilbert discusses the effect it had on the troops, and showcases some of the excellent poetry that was written throughout.

One of the most human elements of this war for me came in the form of the poetry that was written. If you’ve never looked at it, you’re truly missing out on some thought-provoking pieces on the state of man, and how much harm we’re capable of doing to one another. The piece I selected to share with you today was written by Captain Hugh Stewart Smith, and was found in his pocket after he was slain in the fighting.

On the plains of Picardy

Lay a soldier, dying

Gallantly, with soul still free

Spite the rough world’s trying.

Came the Angel who keeps guard

When the fight has drifted,

‘What would you for your reward

When the clouds have lifted?’

Then the soldier through the mist

Heard the voice and rested

As a man who sees his home

When the hill is breasted –

This his answer and I vow

Nothing could be fitter –

Give me peace, a dog, a friend

And a glass of bitter!

Captain Hugh Stewart Smith

1916