Remembrance Poetry

In English, Eagles have been looking at Attack, a poem by World War One soldier, Siegfried Sassoon. We'd like to share some of our own versions with you.

SMOKE by Eddie

At twilight the trench emerges massed and dun,

In the glowing sun,

Crackling through sprouts of 

Tap dancing smoke that observed 

The slippery slope,

And one by one 

Men topple into the wire. 

The barrage falls and lifts 

Then clumsily bowed  

With bombs and guns and shovels  

And battle gear 

Lines of smoke muttering faces  

Masked with fear.

DEATH IS NEAR by Finley

At dawn a bloodthirsty bullet flew over our trench. 

Screams surrounded me. 

A whistle whistled, but it wasn’t from the general. 

It was a bomb. 

Tanks marched alone. 

People climbed over the trenches into their deathbed. 

Soldiers took a moment of silence to honour them. 

Time flies by when you're about to die. 

We thought France was a wonderland. 

It is not. 

The sounds were traumatising. 

God, end this war. 

Save us. 

AT WAR by Sarah

At dusk the guns are lowered; the silence bounces about, 

In the wild, smouldering colour of the deadly smoke, 

Embers floating through the air shining their little light, 

Hopeless soldiers sit in fear waiting to fall, 

The stench of the trench kills many lives, 

Heavy tanks creep and tumble, crushing the land they walk on, 

Screams are heard, people wither, quivering with fear, 

Nature, falling animals fled the scene, 

Whistles heard from both bombs and soldiers, 

The battle field we go, falling to our death, it may be the end, 

We wait to fall on the battle field or die from disease, 

Weather is brutal, the resting is hard, loved ones will fall, 

Maybe next will be you! 

STORMY NIGHT by Lily

The clouds emerged over the trenches, 

Rain pattered, slowly flooding Flanders Field. 

Guns fire, traumatising screams echoed. 

Feelings exploded in my head like a bomb, 

Wires sat waiting menacingly, as sharp as a knife. 

The barrage growls and lifts. 

Warfare rose and so has the horrid stench. 

Hands blistered and trembling held rifles ready to fire. 

The wind danced, 

Seconds skipped by. 

Dizziness overwhelmed; faces masked with tears. 

The men jostled to their deathbeds, 

Where they won’t be seen again. 

CHAOS by Conor

At dusk the horizon covers with whistling bombs 

In the ash black environment 

Dashing through the brown muddy grounds 

Bored to death 

Tree charred, still as a statue 

Birds no longer singing 

Guns, bombs and chaos 

Firing as if it was a storm 

Men jostle and climb to meet their death 

One by one 

Overwhelmed by fear 

Soldiers covered in ashes, pale as snow

Chaos, chaos, chaos. 

AT WAR by Lottie

At dusk, the horizon looms, pewter and bleak 

In the wild purple of the shimmering sun, 

Smouldering through drifts of smoke and ashes 

The sinister scarred slope: and one by one, 

Tanks slip and overthrow towards the wire. 

The barrage growls and rises. Then ungainly bowed 

With explosives and guns and shovels and battle gear 

Men tumble and scale to, meet the rising fire. 

Lines of ashen, murmuring faces, covered with fear. 

They flee their trenches, going over the apex, 

While time ticks clear and engrossed on their wrists, 

And ambition, with furtive eyes and clenching fists, 

Scrambles in the mud. O Jesus, make it stop!