Classic Poem

To be signallers and to be relieved two hours
Before the common infantry—and to come down
Hurriedly to where estaminet's friendliest doors
Opened—where before the vulgar brawling common crew
Could take the seats for tired backs, or take the wine
Best suited for palates searching for delicate flavours
(Or pretty tints) to take from the mind trench ways and strain,
Though it be on tick, with delicately wangled sly favours.
Then having obtained grace from the lady of the inn—
How good to sit still and sip with all-appreciative lip,
(After the grease and skilly of line-cookhouse tea)
The cool darkling texture of the heavenly dew
Of wine—to smoke as one pleased in a house of courtesy—
Signallers gentlemen all, away from the vulgar
Infantry—so dull and dirty and so underpaid,
So wont to get killed and leave the cautious signallers
To signal down the message that they were dead.
Anyway, distinctions or not—there was a quiet
Hour or so before the Company fours halted, and were
Formed two-deep, and dismissed and paid after leaden, dilatory
Hanging around, to bolt (eager) to find those apparently
Innocent signallers drinking, on tick, at last beer.