Retreat from Mons |
The challenge of
the war was not only to stay alive, but to remain sane. While others would write of the tactics and topography
of the retreat from Mons, Wilfrid Wilson Gibson’s short poem captures the interior
landscapes of the mind.
Retreat
All-heal |
Across the stifling leagues of southern plain,
Across the scorching leagues of trampled grain,
Half-stunned, half-blinded, by the trudge of feet
And dusty smother of the August heat,
He dreamt of flowers in an English lane,
Of hedgerow flowers glistening after rain—
All-heal and willow-herb and meadow-sweet.
All-heal and willow-herb and meadow-sweet—
The innocent names kept up a cool refrain—
All-heal and willow-herb and meadow-sweet,
Chiming and tinkling in his aching brain,
Until he babbled like a child again—
"All-heal and willow-herb and meadow-sweet."
The innocent names kept up a cool refrain—
All-heal and willow-herb and meadow-sweet,
Chiming and tinkling in his aching brain,
Until he babbled like a child again—
"All-heal and willow-herb and meadow-sweet."
--Wilfrid Wilson Gibson
Willow-herb (photo by Paul Lane) |
Meadow-sweet |
Today, the British
Commonwealth Grave Commission invites visitors to travel the “Retreat from Mons Remembrance Trail” and learn of the cemeteries and memorials that commemorate
the thousands of men who died on the Great Retreat.
Gibson created a
different kind of memorial in “Retreat”; the poem also honors the memory of
the men who “went ungrudgingly, and spent their all for us,” that we might “feel
the heartbreak in the heart of things.”*
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*These lines are from Gibson’s poem “Lament.”
*These lines are from Gibson’s poem “Lament.”
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