Soldier, are you afraid of the things to come?
Do you dream of the dawn-and the cold sea's heave—
And the guns' blaze and the bullets' hum—
Do you dream and tremble, and grieve?'
'I dunno, Mum,
It can't be much worse, Mum,
Than standing packed in a corridor. Mum,
Seven hours, Mum—
Coming back from leave.'
April 9, 1944