On 01-July-2016, I missed the opportunity to mark the 100th anniversary of the first day of the Battle of the Somme. More British soldiers died on that day than on any other day in history. I thought to make up for it, I would write about some of the poets who died that day. There were a lot.
Gilbert Waterhouse was an architect who served in the Second Battalion of the Essex Regiment. He was reported wounded and missing on the first day of the battle. His body was recovered after the battle.
I had trouble finding examples of his work.
The image is from the movie The Battle of the Somme.
Coming in splendor thro' the golden gate
Of all the days, swift passing, one by one,
Oh, silent planet, thou hast gazed upon
How many harvestings, dispassionate?
Across the many-furrowed fields of Fate,
Wrapt in the mantle of oblivion,
The old, gray, wrinkled Husbandman has gone,
Sowing and reaping, lone and desolate—
The blare of trumpets, rattle of the drum,
Disturb him not at all—He sees,
Between the hedges of the centuries,
A thousand phantom armies go and come,
While Reason whispers as each marches past,
"This is the last of wars,—this is the last 1"
Lieut. Gilbert Waterhouse.