H. SPURRIER
Private, Royal Warwicks
Wounded at La Bassée
The Charge at Neuve-Chapelle
THE charge we made at Neuve-Chapelle
When Fate the die had cast
Was like the lightning of the clouds
As bursts the thunder-blast.
Not least among the records red
For that disastrous year,
Of trenches won and lost again,
Its annals shall appear.
Great battles have been waged and won
Of more momentous power,
When Earth within the balance swung
In sanguinary hour.
But redder morn did never rise
Than on that doubtful day,
Through Death and wire-entanglement
We wrought resistless way.
Along our line the rumour ran
And leaped from lip to lip,
Till that terrific call of blood
Had got us all in grip.
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