Counter-Attack and Other Poems

Siegfried Sassoon
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Title: Counter-Attack and Other Poems
Author: Siegfried Sassoon
Release Date: September, 2005 [EBook #8930]?[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule]?[This file was first posted on August 26, 2003]
Edition: 10
Language: English
Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
? START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK COUNTER-ATTACK AND OTHER POEMS ***
Produced by John M. Wyrwas
COUNTER-ATTACK?AND OTHER POEMS
BY SIEGFRIED SASSOON
With An Introduction By?Robert Nichols
TO ROBERT ROSS
Dans la trêve desolée de cette matinée, ces hommes?qui avaient été tenaillés par la fatigue, fouettés par?la pluie, bouleversés par toute une nuit de tonnerre,?ces rescapés des volcans et de l'inondation entrevoyaient?à quel point la guerre, aussi hideuse au moral?qu'au physique, non seulement viole le bon sens, avilit?les grandes idées, commande tous les crimes--mais ils?se rappelaient combien elle avait développé en eux et?autour d'eux tous les mauvais instincts sans en excepter?un seul; la méchanceté jusqu'au sadisme,?l'égoisme jusqu'à la férocité, le besoin de jouir jusqu'à?la folie. HENRI BARBUSSE. (Le Feu.)
CONTENTS
INTRODUCTION BY ROBERT NICHOLS?PRELUDE: THE TROOPS?COUNTER-ATTACK?THE REAR-GUARD?WIRERS?ATTACK?DREAMERS?HOW TO DIE?THE EFFECT?TWELVE MONTHS AFTER?THE FATHERS?BASE DETAILS?THE GENERAL?LAMENTATIONS?DOES IT MATTER??FIGHT TO A FINISH?EDITORIAL IMPRESSIONS?SUICIDE IN THE TRENCHES?GLORY OF WOMEN?THEIR FRAILTY?THE HAWTHORN TREE?THE INVESTITURE?TRENCH DUTY?BREAK OF DAY?TO ANY DEAD OFFICER?SICK LEAVE?BANISHMENT?SONG-BOOKS OF THE WAR?THRUSHES?AUTUMN?INVOCATION?REPRESSION OF WAR EXPERIENCE?THE TRIUMPH?SURVIVORS?JOY-BELLS?REMORSE?DEAD MUSICIANS?THE DREAM?IN BARRACKS?TOGETHER
INTRODUCTION
Sassoon the Man
In appearance he is tall, big-boned, loosely built. He?is clean-shaven, pale or with a flush; has a heavy jaw,?wide mouth with the upper lip slightly protruding and?the curve of it very pronounced like that of a shrivelled?leaf (as I have noticed is common in many poets).?His nose is aquiline, the nostrils being wide and heavily?arched. This characteristic and the fullness, depth and?heat of his dark eyes give him the air of a sullen?falcon. He speaks slowly, enunciating the words as if?they pained him, in a voice that has something of the?troubled thickness apparent in the voices of those who?emerge from a deep grief. As he speaks, his large?hands, roughened by trench toil and by riding, wander?aimlessly until some emotion grips him when the?knuckles harden and he clutches at his knees or at the?edge of the table. And all the while he will be breathing?hard like a man who has swum a distance. When?he reads his poems he chants and one would think?that he communed with himself save that, at the?pauses, he shoots a powerful glance at the listener.?Between the poems he is still but moves his lips...?He likes best to speak of hunting (he will shout of it!),?of open air mornings when the gorse alone flames?brighter than the sky, of country quiet, of his mother,
[Footnote: His father was a well-to-do country gentleman of Anglo-Jewish stock, his mother an English woman, a Miss?Thornycroft, sister of the sculptor of that name.]
of poetry--usually Shelley, Masefield and Thomas?Hardy--and last and chiefly--but always with a rapid,?tumbling enunciation and a much-irked desperate air?filled with pain--of soldiers. For the incubus of war?is on him so that his days are shot with anguish and?his nights with horror.
He is twenty-eight years old; was educated at?Marlborough and Christchurch, Oxford; was a master of?fox-hounds and is a captain in the Royal Welsh?Fusiliers. Thrice he has fought in France and once in?Palestine. Behind his name are set the letters M.C.?since he has won the Military Cross for an act of?valour which went near to securing him a higher?honour.
Sassoon the Poet
The poetry of Siegfried Sassoon divides itself into?two rough classes--the idyllic and the satiric. War?has defiled one to produce the other. At heart?Siegfried Sassoon is an idealist.
Before the war he had hardly published a line. He?spent his summers in the company of books, at the?piano, on expeditions, and in playing tennis. During?winter he hunted. Hunting was a greater passion with?him than poetry. Much of his poetry celebrated the?loveliness of the field as seen by the huntsman in the?early morning light. But few probably guessed that?the youth known to excel in field sports excelled also?in poetry. For, in its way, this early poetry does excel.?It was characteristic of him that nearly every little?book he then wrote was privately printed. Poetry was?for him just something for private
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