Blighters by Siegfried Sassoon.

After publishing “The War Films” yesterday I though I would follow it with the very famous "Blighters" by Siegfried Sassoon.

I first came across this in an English Literature ‘A’ Level course. In those bygone days I really liked this poem but it now seems to me very bitter and poisoned. The ‘front’ was miles away from home and people only had second-hand tales, films and news reports to live by, but life still had to go on. Not many families escaped without losing someone to the war and soldiers on leave or recuperating wanted to forget about the horror of the trenches. Although I understand and sympathize with Sassoon’s sentiments I personally feel it’s more than a little unfair and acrimonious but it is purposely shocking.

Anyway here it is and I leave it to you to make your own judgment:


Blighters

The house is crammed: tier beyond tier they grin
And cackle at the Show, while prancing ranks
Of harlots shrill the chorus, drunk with din;
"We're sure the Kaiser loves the dear old Tanks!"

I'd like to see a Tank come down the stalls,
Lurching to rag-time tunes, or "Home, sweet Home,"--
And there'd be no more jokes in Music-halls
To mock the riddled corpses round Bapaume.