On the Wire

A left click on the cover of this first
edition of Rhymes of a Red Cross Man
will take you to the complete collection.

Last Sunday the Cantata Singers of Ottawa presented the premiere of a work written by conductor/composer Christopher Hossfeld in commemoration of the centenary of the beginning of the First Great War. As the text for his In Pace Hossfeld choose On the Wire  a poem by Robert Service from his Rhymes of A Red Cross Man.  Woven between the stanzas of this verse (a term Service used for his work which he did not regard as poems) were the various Lenten versicles, responsory and prayers from the Office of Compline,  The contrast between Service's harrowing cry of a wounded young soldier caught on the barbed wire at the Front and the liturgy's quiet reassurance of untroubled sleep,  and the final choral chant In pace, in idispsum dormiam et requiescam* alternating with an early music wind ensemble was both unsettling and immensely moving.  It's a work I hope to hear again as I, personally, found it a very emotional experience.

But as often happens it went beyond being a musical experience and led me to investigate something that was new to me:  the War verses of Robert W. Service, the British-Canadian poet.  I would think that most people who know of Service today think in terms of his two best known works from Songs of a Sourdough:  The Shooting of Dan McGrew and The Cremation of Sam McGee.  That first book of verse proved to be his serendipitous road to fame and fortune.  Between 1907 and 1912 he wrote three books of verse based on life in the Yukon and the Gold Rush.  In 1912 he moved to Paris and after the outbreak of war the 41-year old Service attempted to enlist but was turned down.  In 1916, after a brief stint as a war correspondent for the Toronto Star,  he became a stretcher bearer and ambulance driver for the American Red Cross.  During a period in convalescent hospital he wrote his next book of verse and dedicated it to his brother Lieutenant Albert Service who had been killed in august of that year.   Rhymes of A Red Cross Man is unlike any of the Great War poetry I had read previously - even in their bitterness Graves, Sassoon, Owen et al had a certain elegance, I might even say romantic tone, that is foreign to Service.  There are verses that are boldly satirical as well as many that have a stark brutality about them that hide nothing of the horror that he saw or was told about by those around him.  Many seem to start off rather light-heartedly like The Little Piou-Piou but turn deadly serious; others such as A Song of Winter Weather reflect the obstacles the ordinary soldier faced beyond the enemy.  Over the Parapet takes a wry little twist right at the end with an audacity that is typically Service and  Afternoon Tea takes the mickey out of officers and the leaders who led some many men to the slaughter. 

On the Wire

O God, take the sun from the sky!
It's burning me, scorching me up.
God, can't You hear my cry?
'Water! A poor, little cup!'
It's laughing, the cursed sun!
See how it swells and swells
Fierce as a hundred hells!
God, will it never have done?
It's searing the flesh on my bones;
It's beating with hammers red
My eyeballs into my head;
It's parching my very moans.
See! It's the size of the sky,
And the sky is a torrent of fire,
Foaming on me as I lie
Here on the wire . . . the wire. . . .

Of the thousands that wheeze and hum
Heedlessly over my head,
Why can't a bullet come,
Pierce to my brain instead,
Blacken forever my brain,
Finish forever my pain?
Here in the hellish glare
Why must I suffer so?
Is it God doesn't care?
Is it God doesn't know?
Oh, to be killed outright,
Clean in the clash of the fight!
That is a golden death,
That is a boon; but this . . .
Drawing an anguished breath
Under a hot abyss,
Under a stooping sky
Of seething, sulphurous fire,
Scorching me up as I lie
Here on the wire . . . the wire. . . .

Hasten, O God, Thy night!
Hide from my eyes the sight
Of the body I stare and see
Shattered so hideously.
I can't believe that it's mine.
My body was white and sweet,
Flawless and fair and fine,
Shapely from head to feet;
Oh no, I can never be
The thing of horror I see
Under the rifle fire,
Trussed on the wire . . . the wire. . . .

Of night and of death I dream;
Night that will bring me peace,
Coolness and starry gleam,
Stillness and death's release:
Ages and ages have passed,—
Lo! it is night at last.
Night! but the guns roar out.
Night! but the hosts attack.
Red and yellow and black
Geysers of doom upspout.
Silver and green and red
Star-shells hover and spread.
Yonder off to the right
Fiercely kindles the fight;
Roaring near and more near,
Thundering now in my ear;
Close to me, close . . . Oh, hark!
Someone moans in the dark.
I hear, but I cannot see,
I hear as the rest retire,
Someone is caught like me,
Caught on the wire . . . the wire. . . .

Again the shuddering dawn,
Weird and wicked and wan;
Again, and I've not yet gone.
The man whom I heard is dead.
Now I can understand:
A bullet hole in his head,
A pistol gripped in his hand.
Well, he knew what to do,—
Yes, and now I know too. . . .

Hark the resentful guns!
Oh, how thankful am I
To think my beloved ones
Will never know how I die!
I've suffered more than my share;
I'm shattered beyond repair;
I've fought like a man the fight,
And now I demand the right
(God! how his fingers cling!)
To do without shame this thing.
Good! there's a bullet still;
Now I'm ready to fire;
Blame me, God, if You will,
Here on the wire . . . the wire. . . .

Service was honoured with medals for his service during the war: the 1914–15 Star, British War Medal and the Victory Medal. It is interesting, if not a surprise, that, like Vera Brittain's, his is a name that is missing from the memorial to poets of the Great War in Westminster Abbey.  Though popular with the public his book was less so with the government and military of the time.

And Service ends his verses with a stanza that perhaps sums up his view of that Great War to end all Wars:

Oh spacious days of glory and of grieving!
Oh sounding hours of lustre and of loss!
Let us be glad we lived you, still believing
The God who gave the cannon gave the Cross.
Let us be sure amid these seething passions,
The lusts of blood and hate our souls abhor:
The Power that Order out of Chaos fashions
Smites fiercest in the wrath-red forge of War. . . .
Have faith! Fight on! Amid the battle-hell
Love triumphs, Freedom beacons, all is well.

L'Envoi**

* In peace and into the same I shall sleep and rest.
 

**Envoi: the usually explanatory or commendatory concluding remarks to a poem, essay, or book; especially :  a short final stanza of a ballad serving as a summary or dedication.


Previous Posts on Poetry and War:
                          Poems of War and Loss
                          The Poetry of War

November 7 - 1919: The first Palmer Raid is conducted on the second anniversary of the Russian Revolution. Over 10,000 suspected communists and anarchists are arrested in 23 different U.S. cities.

The Animals of War

Though the first shots were fired on July 28, 1914 the declarations of a war that was to bring about the downfall of four Imperial powers, change the map of Europe and destroy the lives of millions were not issued until August 3 and 4th. Until that point the tensions that had arisen from the entirely serendipitous assassination of Archduke Franz Ferdinand and his wife Sophie had been more like a family squabble than the prologue to a devastating war that would resound into our current century.  It was only going to last a few weeks but by November of the same year the editor of the Canadian magazine Maclean's wrote, "Some wars name themselves. This is the Great War."

As a nation Canada's first overseas war had been the Second South African War (the Boer War) in 1899; Canada sent troops but the country was bitterly divided along political and provincial lines about joining the conflict.  At the outset Sir Wilfred Laurier, the Prime Minister at the time, sent 1000 soldiers to support the Mother Land; ultimately over 7000 Canadians were to serve in that far away war and 267 were to die.

In 1902 the school children of Ottawa contributed their pennies to pay for a Memorial to citizens of Ottawa who lost their lives in the Second South African War (1899-1902).  It was the first time that the Canadian military were involved in a foreign conflict and it caused deep divisions within the country.  Of the 7000 Canadians (including many nursing sisters) who fought 267 died; amongst them the 16 volunteers from Ottawa whose names are on the memorial.

The dead and lost of that war are remembered in monuments throughout the country - the one in Confederation Park in Ottawa was erected within months of the end of the conflict.  But it took almost a century (2012) before another troop of heroes from the Boer War and their successors in the First and Second World Wars were to be remembered:  the animals in war.

Dedicated in November 2012 this wonderful memorial to Animals in War in Confederation Park was created by David Clendining, a local sculptor.  The three rocks, each bearing a bronze plaque rest on a concrete bases imprinted with paw and hoof prints.  A medical assistance dog stands guard over the memorial - quiet but vigilant:  devoted to his task.

Fittingly the Animals in War Dedication was installed next to the South African War memorial in Confederation Park.  Canada supplied over 50,000 horses for the mounted troops of the combined Commonwealth cavalry in our first international conflict as a nation.  When Britain declared war on Germany one hundred years ago today Canada was automatically brought into the conflict.  The Canadian Expeditionary Force was as volunteer army - conscription was not introduced until 1917 - and first wave of men left Val Cartier in October of 1914 eager to fight "the hun".   Along with them went dogs, horses and mules to once again give support.

For centuries, animals have demonstrated an enduring partnership with humans during times of war.They have served as means of transportation, beasts of burden, messengers, protectors and mascots.Still today, dogs use their unique, sharply tuned instincts to detect mine clusters, and conduct search and rescue operations. We remember the contribution and sacrifice of all animals.

The footprints  of dogs, mules and horses heading into the battlefield are imprinted in the concrete slabs that from the base of the memorial.  Mules carried panniers and artillery; Horses carried mounted troops and hauled field guns; Carrier pigeons delivered messages to specific destinations; and Dogs were used as messengers, medical assistants, bomb detectors, and search and rescue workers.  Even the lowly glowworm served as a source of light for reading maps in the trenches.  They all left their mark on the battlefield and often in the hearts of their human comrades.

This life-sized statue of a medical service dog stands guard over the Dedication. She is wearing an authentic rendering of a medical backpack that dogs carried in the First World War.

Relentless shelling in the First World War (1914-1918) left huge craters of mud and sewage. Horses and mules could best navigate these difficult conditions to supply the front and evacuate the wounded.

At the high school I attended in Winnipeg, there was a large World War I depiction, a painting that hung on the walls. One image was etched indelibly into my mind: teams of horses and mules, eyes inflamed with fear, straining on their harness as they and their human comrades, with their shoulder to the wheel, struggled to free supply wagons stuck in shell holes full of mud.

Lloyd Swick
Animals in War Dedication Project

Horses carried soldiers, and pulled gun carriages, supply wagons and ambulances. Many paid the ultimate price and their loss was mourned by those they served.

This detail is modeled after a painting by Fortunino Matania:  
Goodbye Old Man

There was another painting that hung on that high school wall which was stunning in the emotion it evoked – it remained in my mind throughout all these years.  It has served as an inspiration for the design of the War Animals Dedication Project.

An artist, Fortunio Matania, had been sent to Menin, Belgium to capture the meaning of war. This portrayal was the result. Aptly entitled “Goodbye Old Friend,” it showed a gunner knelt down, holding the head of his horse in his lap, bidding his comrade farewell.  The horse is mortally wounded and awaits death.  Imagine the anguish felt by the gunner, being forced to shoot his companion with whom he shared the hardships of war; a companion with whom he had developed a close bond of friendship, trust, loyalty and admiration. I had read one account of war, where an entire battery, about 150 strong, filed by and kissed their dying horse. Obviously the horse must have been loved and served the battery faithfully over the years.

Lloyd Swick

Animals in War Dedication Project

A few years ago I posted an item on the Animals in War Monument in London which Lloyd Swick credits with planting the seed of a like monument here in Ottawa.  Though perhaps not as impressive as its London counterpart I find it a fitting tribute to the animals who - as we are reminded on the London memorial - had no choice.

A click on the image below will take you to the website of the Animals in War Dedication which has a wealth of information and stories of the "Beasts of War". 

August 4 - 70: The destruction of the Second Temple in Jerusalem by the Romans.

A Carol for Christmas VI - Silent Night 1914

The most famous story about, perhaps the most popular of Christmas carols, "Silent Night" involves a broken organ in the Nikolaus-Kirche in Oberndorf in 1818.  Legend says that Joseph Mohr brought the lyrics to Franz Gruber and asked for a melody that he could play on his guitar.  Whither that is fact or legend is a small point - it is a carol that has been recorded by artists as varied in musical genre as Mahalia Jackson, Kathleen, Battle,  Luciano Pavarotti and Annie Lennox and translated into at least 40 different languages.

It is this universality that led to one of the strangest episodes of the First Great War: the Christmas truces of 1914.  Those unexpected episodes leading up to Christmas of that year when British, German and to some small extent French troops left their trenches and met in New Man's Land.  For a brief time in that bloody conflict men exchanged greetings, cigarettes, played football and it is said sang carols together - the one carol each knew, in their own language, was Silent Night.

I've chosen not one of the many versions of this beloved carol that is on YouTube but a song that commemorates that fragile and brief peace.  It appears that Cormac MacConnell who wrote the song may have altered the year but captures the spirit of those amazing moments; and Jerry Lynch brings a sincere beauty to even the sad brutality of the last verse.

And this is for all my dear friends and all those serving overseas - may there soon be a peace that will bring you home to your families and loved ones so there is never again a need for a Christmas truce.


24 dicembre/December - La Vigilia di Natale