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Excerpt
Excerpt from Rhymes of a Red Cross Man, by Robert W. Service
We spread out in the open: it was like a bath of lead;
But the boys they cheered and hollered fit to raise the bloody dead,
Till a beastly bullet copped 'em, then they lay without a sound,
And it's odd--we didn't seem to heed them corpses on the ground.
And I kept on thinkin', thinkin', as the bullets faster flew,
How they picks the werry best men, and they lets the rotters through;
So indiscriminatin' like, they spares a man of sin,
And a rare lad wot's a husband and a father gets done in.
And while havin' these reflections and advancin' on the run,
A bullet biffs me shoulder, and says I: "That's number one."
Well, it downed me for a jiffy, but I didn't lose me calm,
For I knew that I was needed: I'm a bomber, so I am.
I 'ad lost me cap and rifle, but I "carried on" because
I 'ad me bombs and knew that they was needed, so they was.
We didn't 'ave no singin' now, nor many men to cheer;
Maybe the shrapnel drowned 'em, crashin' out so werry near;
And the Maxims got us sideways, and the bullets faster flew,
And I copped one on me flipper, and says I: "That's number two."
I was pleased it was the left one, for I 'ad me bombs, ye see,
And 'twas 'ard if they'd be wasted like, and all along o' me.
And I'd lost me 'at and rifle--but I told you that before,
So I packed me mit inside me coat and "carried on" once more.
But the rumpus it was wicked, and the men were scarcer yet,
And I felt me ginger goin', but me jaws I kindo set,
And we passed the Boche first trenches, which was 'eapin' 'igh with dead,
And we started for their second, which was fifty feet ahead;
When something like a 'ammer smashed me savage on the knee,
And down I came all muck and blood: Says I: "That's number three."
Explanation
Robert W. Service’s Rhymes of a Red Cross Man (1916) is a collection of poems inspired by his experiences as an ambulance driver and stretcher-bearer during World War I. The excerpt you’ve provided is a stark, first-person account of a soldier’s brutal and chaotic experience in battle, written in Service’s signature ballad style—a blend of colloquial dialect, dark humor, and grim realism. The poem captures the randomness of death in war, the soldier’s resilience, and the absurdity of combat, all while maintaining a gritty, conversational tone that immerses the reader in the moment.
Context & Themes
World War I & Trench Warfare
- The poem reflects the horrors of the Western Front, where soldiers faced machine guns (Maxims), artillery shrapnel, and indiscriminate slaughter. The speaker’s descriptions of advancing under fire, losing comrades, and being wounded multiple times mirror the mechanized, dehumanizing nature of modern warfare.
- Service, though not a combat soldier, witnessed these scenes firsthand as a medical volunteer, lending the poem authenticity and immediacy.
The Indiscriminate Nature of Death
- A central theme is the arbitrariness of survival in war. The speaker muses:
"How they picks the werry best men, and they lets the rotters through; / So indiscriminatin' like, they spares a man of sin, / And a rare lad wot's a husband and a father gets done in."
- This reflects the moral chaos of war, where virtue offers no protection. The "best men" (husbands, fathers, decent soldiers) die, while "rotters" (cowards, sinners) survive—challenging any notion of divine justice or fairness.
- A central theme is the arbitrariness of survival in war. The speaker muses:
Soldier’s Resilience & Dark Humor
- Despite severe wounds, the speaker keeps advancing, embodying the stoic endurance of WWI soldiers. His understated, almost casual reactions to being shot ("That’s number one / two / three") highlight the normalization of violence in war.
- The dark humor ("I was pleased it was the left one") serves as a coping mechanism, a way to distance himself from the horror.
The Cost of Duty
- The speaker is a bomber (a soldier carrying grenades), and his determination to "carry on" despite losing his hat, rifle, and use of his limbs underscores the sense of duty over self-preservation.
- His repeated wounds (shoulder, hand, knee) symbolize the cumulating toll of war, yet he persists—not out of heroism, but because he’s "needed."
Literary Devices & Style
Colloquial Dialect & Vernacular
- Service writes in working-class British slang ("werry" for "very," "flipper" for hand, "copped" for hit, "Boche" for Germans) to authenticate the soldier’s voice. This oral, unpolished style makes the poem feel like a direct testimony rather than a polished literary work.
- Phrases like "I kindo set me jaws" and "That’s number three" mimic real speech patterns, reinforcing the immediacy of the experience.
Repetition & Rhythm
- The ballad meter (alternating tetrameter and trimeter) gives the poem a marching, relentless rhythm, mirroring the inexorable advance of the soldiers.
- Refrains like "carried on" and "That’s number [X]" create a cumulating effect, emphasizing the repetitive, grinding nature of combat.
Irony & Understatement
- The speaker’s detached observations contrast with the brutality of the scene:
- "it was like a bath of lead" (a grim metaphor for bullets flying)
- "we didn’t seem to heed them corpses on the ground" (the desensitization to death)
- "I was pleased it was the left one" (dark humor in the face of mutilation)
- The understated reactions make the horror more chilling.
- The speaker’s detached observations contrast with the brutality of the scene:
Imagery & Sensory Details
- Tactile & Auditory Imagery:
- "a beastly bullet copped 'em" (sudden, violent impact)
- "the shrapnel drowned 'em, crashin' out so werry near" (deafening explosions)
- "something like a 'ammer smashed me savage on the knee" (visceral pain)
- Visual Imagery:
- "the Boche first trenches, which was 'eapin' 'igh with dead" (piles of corpses)
- "down I came all muck and blood" (graphic, unglamorous wound)
- Tactile & Auditory Imagery:
Symbolism
- The Bombs: Represent the soldier’s purpose and burden. Even when he loses everything else, he clings to them—duty over survival.
- The Counting of Wounds ("number one / two / three"): Symbolizes the mechanical, impersonal nature of war, reducing human suffering to a tally.
Significance & Historical Perspective
- Anti-War Sentiment (Subtle but Present)
- While not as overtly pacifist as Wilfred Owen or Siegfried Sassoon, Service’s poem exposes the futility and randomness of war. The speaker’s resignation rather than glory in combat challenges romanticized notions of warfare.
- Voice of the Common Soldier
- Unlike many WWI poets who were officers (e.g., Owen, Brooke), Service’s speaker is a rank-and-file bomber, giving a ground-level perspective often missing in war literature.
- Psychological Realism
- The poem captures combat trauma before the term was widely understood—the numbness, dark humor, and mechanical persistence of soldiers under fire.
Line-by-Line Breakdown of Key Moments
"We spread out in the open: it was like a bath of lead;"
- Simile: Bullets are so thick they feel like being immersed in molten lead—suffocating, inescapable danger.
"the boys they cheered and hollered fit to raise the bloody dead,"
- Irony: Their cheer is short-lived; the next line reveals their sudden deaths. The juxtaposition of life and death in seconds.
"it's odd--we didn't seem to heed them corpses on the ground."
- Desensitization: The soldiers ignore the dead, a sign of psychological numbing in war.
"How they picks the werry best men, and they lets the rotters through;"
- Moral Indignation: War doesn’t reward virtue—a breakdown of moral order.
"A bullet biffs me shoulder, and says I: 'That's number one.'"
- Dark Humor & Understatement: The casual tone contrasts with the severity of being shot.
"I 'ad me bombs and knew that they was needed, so they was."
- Duty Over Self: Even maimed, he focuses on his mission, not survival.
"the Maxims got us sideways"
- Machine Guns: The Maxim gun was a notorious WWI weapon, mowing down soldiers in waves. The impersonal, mechanical slaughter is emphasized.
"I packed me mit inside me coat and 'carried on' once more."
- Resilience: Despite losing a hand, he adapts and continues—a testament to endurance.
"the men were scarcer yet"
- Attrition: The dwindling numbers highlight the high casualty rate.
"something like a 'ammer smashed me savage on the knee,"
- Violent Imagery: The blunt, brutal language conveys the sudden, crushing pain.
"Says I: 'That's number three.'"
- Final Wound: The counting stops here—will he survive? The ambiguity leaves the reader unsettled.
Conclusion: Why This Excerpt Matters
This passage is a microcosm of WWI’s horror—random, relentless, and dehumanizing. Service’s use of vernacular, dark humor, and unflinching detail makes the soldier’s experience visceral and immediate. Unlike propagandistic war poetry, this excerpt doesn’t glorify combat; instead, it exposes the absurdity of survival, the indifference of fate, and the grim determination of the common soldier.
The poem’s power lies in its authenticity—it feels like a real man’s account, not a polished literary work. In this way, it humanizes the faceless masses of WWI, giving voice to the millions who endured similar fates.
Would you like a deeper dive into any specific aspect (e.g., historical context of bombers, comparisons to other WWI poets)?