Dreamers
were perhaps more common in the trenches of the Great War than has been
previously acknowledged. Imaginative soldiers “seized a star-beam” and climbed out of the
trenches to join “star and bird and wind and rain” (see “Bivouacs” by Gilbert
Waterhouse)
or mentally removed themselves from the unspeakable horrors of the front lines:
"Over! How the mud sucks!
Vomits red the barrage.
But I am far off in the hush of a
garden of lilacs."
William
Oliphant Down was a West Country man, born in Somerset and raised in Dorset. Before
the war, he had achieved recognition for a play "as iridescent as a soap bubble," the 1911 one-act fantasy The Maker of Dreams, which
asserted that “the greatest thing that dreams are made of is love.”*
While rotating in and out of the front lines of battle, Down continued writing plays and poetry. Three of his trench poems are parodies, reshaping popular songs and poems. In “Picardy Parodies No. 2,” he turns his wry humor to reshaping W.B. Yeats’ poem “The Lake Isle of Innisfree.” Down’s poem satirizes the loss of individual freedom and volition in war.
Picardy
Parodies No. 2 (W.B. Y..ts)
I will
arise and go now, and go to Picardy
Lough Gill and Lake Isle of Innisfree, vintage postcard |
And a new
trench-line hold there, of clay and shell-holes made,
No
dug-outs shall I have there, nor a hive for the Lewis G.,
But live
on top in the b. loud glade.
And I may
cease to be there, for peace comes dropping slow,
Dropping
from the mouth of the Minnie to where the sentry sings;
There noon
is high explosive, and night a gunfire glow,
And
evening full of torpedoes’ wings.
I will
arise and go now, though always night and day
I’ll feel
dark waters lapping with low sounds by the store,
Where all
our bombs grow rusty and countless S.A.A.;
I’ll feel
it in my trench-feet sore.
--William Oliphant Down
In Yeat’s
original poem (which can be read here), the speaker rises and
retreats to the idyllic charms of an Irish lake, where he builds a small cabin,
plants beans, tends bees, and finds peace “alone in the bee-loud glade.” The
poem describes the simple beauties of an island sanctuary: the morning songs
of crickets, the purple glow of noon, the evening skies full of birds in
flight, and the soft glimmer of midnight.
After the Battle, Paul Nash (1918) © IWM (Art.IWM ART 2706) |
In Down’s
parody of Yeats' poem, the speaker rises, but is unable to go anywhere. In Picardy, men dwell in a state of paralysis, and the stagnation and mud cannot be escaped. Soldiers live and
work in water-logged trenches and struggle against the corrosive damp that
attacks everything from their Lewis machine guns to the store of bombs and
small arms ammunition (S.A.A.). In early July of 1916, the Berkshire
Regiment’s War Diary reported, “The trenches were in a very bad
condition, full of water and mud…the water in many places was waist deep.” Down's parody transforms the gently lapping lake waves of Lough Gill to
dark, fetid pools that rot even the feet of the soldiers.
The
soundscape of the two poems is also sharply different: in Picardy, the silence
of nature has been invaded by artillery blasts, the rattle of gunfire, and the
shouts of a sentry as incoming “Minnies” fall on the trenches. The effects
of the Minenwerfer, a German
short-range artillery trench mortar, are described in the 1918 book Lingo of No Man’s Land: “The mortars throw a shell one thousand
one hundred forty feet away, and even though no fragments touch him, the
concussion is so great that a man’s insides burst like a kernel of popcorn and
death is usually instantaneous.Ӡ
Night
and day are undifferentiated in this world of madness and mud. The only peace
to be found in Picardy “comes dropping slow,” as the only escape is death.
With no
end to the war in sight, men were forced to adapt to nearly unendurable
conditions of life in the trenches.
Writing parodies and reshaping familiar songs and poems may have
provided some semblance of autonomy and control in a world that offered very
little of either.
William
Oliphant Down died of wounds and escaped his war on May 23, 1917.
He was most likely shot by enemy machine gun fire on the night of May 22nd
as his unit was relieving the Glosters near Demicourt, France. Harold Veasey,
in the Foreword to Down’s posthumously published book of poems notes, “His was
a nature that abhorred war and its attendant horrors; it is, therefore,
remarkable that this dreamer and idealist should have developed into such a
very gallant and capable soldier.”††
Memorial at St. Mary's, Gillingham Photo by Mr. C.E. Moreton |
*“The Maker
of Dreams: Some Press Opinions” from George Otis, The
Stupid Witness and “Lecture Given on “Maker of Dreams,” The Columbia Spectator, 27 March 1915.
†Lingo
of No Man’s Land by Sergt. Lorenzo N. Smith, a soldier who fought with
the Canadian Expeditionary Force, p. 36.
Another wonderful, poignant post. I find I have to take regular breaks from my reading of WWI poets and memoirists else I am in the doldrums for days. I don't know how you do it, reviewing so many works from such talented writers who often met such tragic ends. Thank you for your work in finding, and sharing, these works.
ReplyDeleteThanks for reading -- I hope in some small way this blog helps to remember and honor those who might otherwise be forgotten.
DeleteI love the way you illustrate your work with photos and drawings from the time. I agree with the previous writer-reading these posts regularly can be depressing. I admire your ability to keep at it.
ReplyDeleteThanks for reading and for taking the time to comment -- it's sincerely appreciated!
DeleteThank you for the information on Oliphant Down, which I had been unable to find elsewhere. I have just come across a copy of 'The Maker of Dreams' and was curious to know more about the writer.
ReplyDeleteI'm glad to have shared information on this fascinating man (I've visited his gravesite on the Western Front).
Delete