IN AN UNDERGROUND DRESSING-STATION

By Siegfried Sassoon

Quietly they set their burden down: he tried

To grin; moaned; moved his head from side to side.

He gripped the stretcher; stiffened; glared; and screamed,

“O put my leg down, doctor, do!” ( He'd got

A bullet in his ankle; and he'd been shot

Horribly through the guts. ) The surgeon seemed

So kind and gentle, saying, above that crying,

“You must keep still, my lad.” But he was dying.