'Only A Boche' by Robert Service
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We brought him in from between the lines: we'd better have let him lie;
For what's the use of risking one's skin for a tyke that's going to die?
What's the use of tearing him loose under a gruelling fire,
When he's shot in the head, and worse than dead, and all messed up on the wire?
However, I say, we brought him in. Diable! The mud was bad;
The trench was crooked and greasy and high, and oh, what a time we had!
And often we slipped, and often we tripped, but never he made a moan;
And how we were wet with blood and with sweat! but we carried him in like our own.
Now there he lies in the dug-out dim, awaiting the ambulance,
And the doctor shrugs his shoulders at him, and remarks, "He hasn't a chance."
And we squat and smoke at our game of bridge on the glistening, straw-packed floor,
And above our oaths we can hear his breath deep-drawn in a kind of snore.
For the dressing station is long and low, and the candles gutter dim,
And the mean light falls on the cold clay walls and our faces bristly and grim;
And we flap our cards on the lousy straw, and we laugh and jibe as we play,
And you'd never know that the cursed foe was less than a mile away.
As we con our cards in the rancid gloom, oppressed by that snoring breath,
You'd never dream that our broad roof-beam was swept by the broom of death.
Heigh-ho! My turn for the dummy hand; I rise and I stretch a bit;
The fetid air is making me yawn, and my cigarette's unlit,
So I go to the nearest candle flame, and the man we brought is there,
And his face is white in the shabby light, and I stand at his feet and stare.
Stand for a while, and quietly stare: for strange though it seems to be,
The dying Boche on the stretcher there has a queer resemblance to me.
It gives one a kind of a turn, you know, to come on a thing like that.
It's just as if I were lying there, with a turban of blood for a hat,
Lying there in a coat grey-green instead of a coat grey-blue,
With one of my eyes all shot away, and my brain half tumbling through;
Lying there with a chest that heaves like a bellows up and down,
And a cheek as white as snow on a grave, and lips that are coffee brown.
And confound him, too! He wears, like me, on his finger a wedding ring,
And around his neck, as around my own, by a greasy bit of string,
A locket hangs with a woman's face, and I turn it about to see:
Just as I thought . . . on the other side the faces of children three;
Clustered together cherub-like, three little laughing girls,
With the usual tiny rosebud mouths and the usual silken curls.
"Zut!" I say. "He has beaten me; for me, I have only two,"
And I push the locket beneath his shirt, feeling a little blue.
Oh, it isn't cheerful to see a man, the marvellous work of God,
Crushed in the mutilation mill, crushed to a smeary clod;
Oh, it isn't cheerful to hear him moan; but it isn't that I mind,
It isn't the anguish that goes with him, it's the anguish he leaves behind.
For his going opens a tragic door that gives on a world of pain,
And the death he dies, those who live and love, will die again and again.
So here I am at my cards once more, but it's kind of spoiling my play,
Thinking of those three brats of his so many a mile away.
War is war, and he's only a Boche, and we all of us take our chance;
But all the same I'll be mighty glad when I'm hearing the ambulance.
One foe the less, but all the same I'm heartily glad I'm not
The man who gave him his broken head, the sniper who fired the shot.
No trumps you make it, I think you said? You'll pardon me if I err;
For a moment I thought of other things . . .Mon Dieu! Quelle vache de gueerre.
Editor 1 Interpretation
Only A Boche: A Deeper Look at Robert Service's War Poem
Have you ever read a poem that made you feel like you were right in the middle of a battlefield? A poem that made you feel every emotion that soldiers feel when they are fighting for their country, for their lives? Robert Service's "Only A Boche" is one such poem. Written during World War I, the poem captures the essence of the conflict that ravaged Europe for years. In this literary criticism and interpretation, we will delve deeper into the meaning behind the poem and the ways in which Service uses language and imagery to convey his message.
A Brief Overview
"Only A Boche" is a war poem that tells the story of a German soldier who is dying on the battlefield. The poem opens with the speaker stumbling upon the soldier, who is lying on his back, his body riddled with bullets. The soldier is dying, and as he takes his last breaths, he speaks to the speaker in broken English. The soldier tells the speaker about his life before the war, his family, and his hopes and dreams. He also speaks about the horrors of war and the toll it has taken on him and his fellow soldiers. The poem ends with the soldier's final words, in which he expresses his regret for the war and his hope for a better future.
The Language of War
One of the most striking things about "Only A Boche" is the language that Service uses to describe the battlefield. He uses vivid and visceral imagery to convey the horror and brutality of war. For example, in the opening lines of the poem, Service writes:
A stretcher-bearer in the army of the dead, With footsteps measured and slow, I carry my burden with even tread, And wearily long to go.
These lines immediately set the tone for the poem, with the speaker describing himself as a "stretcher-bearer in the army of the dead." This metaphorical language is both haunting and powerful, as it conveys the idea that the battlefield is a place of death and destruction.
Service also uses powerful metaphors and similes throughout the poem to describe the soldier's wounds. For example, he writes:
His face turned to me as he lay on his back, And the blood ran out of his head; I hardened my heart, for he looked like a Hun, And I thought of my brother dead.
Here, Service uses the simile "he looked like a Hun" to describe the soldier's appearance. The use of this metaphor is interesting, as it highlights the dehumanization of the enemy during wartime. Soldiers are taught to see their enemies as less than human, and this is reflected in the language that Service uses throughout the poem.
The Human Cost of War
At its heart, "Only A Boche" is a poem about the human cost of war. Service uses the soldier's dying words to convey the idea that war is a senseless and brutal activity that causes immense suffering for all involved. For example, the soldier tells the speaker:
But now the War it is over, And I'm glad that I'm dying to-day; For see, my brother, I'm nothing, But a body that's shot away.
These lines are incredibly poignant, as they highlight the soldier's sense of resignation and hopelessness. He is glad that the war is over, but he is also glad that he is dying because he can no longer bear the pain and suffering that he has experienced.
Service also uses the soldier's dying words to make a broader comment about the futility of war. The soldier expresses his regret for the conflict and his hope for a better future. He tells the speaker:
But this I know, my brother, That though I'm only a Boche, Yet I was a man like you, sir, And you'll find my words are true, sir.
These lines are incredibly powerful, as they emphasize the common humanity of all soldiers, regardless of their nationality. The soldier's message is one of hope and understanding, and it serves as a reminder that war is not the answer to our problems.
Conclusion
In conclusion, "Only A Boche" is a powerful and moving poem that captures the essence of war. Service uses vivid and visceral imagery to describe the brutality of the battlefield, and he uses the soldier's dying words to convey the futility and senselessness of war. The poem is a reminder of the human cost of war and the importance of striving for peace and understanding. It is a testament to the power of poetry to capture the emotions and experiences of those who have experienced war firsthand.
Editor 2 Analysis and Explanation
Only A Boche: A Poem of War and Humanity
Robert Service’s poem “Only A Boche” is a powerful and moving piece that captures the essence of war and humanity. Written during the First World War, the poem tells the story of a German soldier who is captured by the British and brought to a prisoner-of-war camp. Through the eyes of the narrator, we see the humanity of the enemy and the tragedy of war.
The poem begins with the narrator describing the arrival of the German soldier at the camp. He is “thin and pale and small” and looks “like a rat.” The narrator’s initial reaction is one of disgust and contempt for the enemy. He sees the German soldier as nothing more than a “Boche,” a derogatory term used to describe the Germans during the war.
However, as the poem progresses, the narrator’s attitude towards the German soldier begins to change. He starts to see him as a human being, rather than just an enemy. He notices the soldier’s “big blue eyes” and the “quiver of his lips.” He sees the fear and uncertainty in the soldier’s face and realizes that he is just like any other human being.
The poem then takes a surprising turn as the narrator begins to feel empathy for the German soldier. He imagines what it must be like for the soldier to be far away from home, in a foreign land, surrounded by enemies. He wonders if the soldier has a family, a wife, or children who are waiting for him back home. He realizes that the soldier is not just a “Boche,” but a human being with hopes, dreams, and fears.
The poem reaches its climax when the narrator has a conversation with the German soldier. He asks him if he has a family, and the soldier responds that he has a wife and a child. The narrator is struck by the soldier’s humanity and begins to feel a sense of connection with him. He realizes that they are both human beings, caught up in a war that neither of them wanted.
The poem ends with the narrator reflecting on the tragedy of war. He realizes that the soldier is not his enemy, but a victim of the war, just like himself. He wonders how many other soldiers on both sides of the conflict are just like the German soldier, caught up in a war that they did not choose.
The power of “Only A Boche” lies in its ability to capture the humanity of the enemy. Through the eyes of the narrator, we see that the German soldier is not just a faceless enemy, but a human being with hopes, dreams, and fears. The poem challenges us to look beyond the labels and stereotypes that we use to describe our enemies and to see them as human beings.
The poem also highlights the tragedy of war. It shows us that war is not just about soldiers fighting on a battlefield, but about the human cost of conflict. The soldier in the poem is not just a casualty of war, but a victim of a larger political and social conflict that he had no control over.
In conclusion, “Only A Boche” is a powerful and moving poem that captures the essence of war and humanity. It challenges us to see our enemies as human beings and to recognize the tragedy of war. As we continue to face conflicts and wars around the world, the message of this poem remains as relevant today as it was when it was written over a century ago.
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