Soldier, back from the distant fray,
With the bandaged arm and the ribbon gay,
Where have you been so long away,
And what have your travels taught you?
The changing, curious crowd sways by,
But you watch it pass with a vacant eye,
And ever anon you heave a sigh,
As some hidden memory wrought you.
The city street is bright with flags,
But, besides your wounds, your footstep drags.
Is your mind fixed on those leaden crags
And the dead you left behind you?
You have done as much as a man may do,
Though you could not stay to see it through.
Is it only this? Or tell me true,
Are there shadows that remind you?
“Oh, I’ve followed the colours, God knows where,
And I’ve witnessed things that I can’t declare,”
He said, and, despite his martial air,
A sudden terror filled him.
“But over there on Gallipoli
There’s a nameless grave by an azure sea
(And I couldn’t tell what his rank might be),
I only know I killed him.
“I know ’twas a case of his life or mine.
Somehow I’d strayed from the transport line,
And sudden, topping a parched incline,
I saw him right before me.
The Turk was just as scared as I,
He didn’t think to move or cry,
So we stared a moment eye to eye,
While a wave of fear rolled o’er me.
“I’d a fleeting thought of the wife and child
That he’d left behind. Then the beggar smiled,
And something about it made me wild.
He smiled – and I pulled the trigger.
. . . And so he swayed a little space,
While the slow smile faded from his face
And then he tottered from his place,
And sprawled – a ghastly figure.
“I stood with the smoking rifle, so –
‘Neath the white hot sky, with the sea below,
And the shrivelled grass waved to and fro,
And those sightless eyes seemed peering
Out past the skies with a cold stare set.
So limp he lay – I can see him yet –
And his twisted face I can never forget –
Reproachful, cold, and leering.”