WWI Soldier Poetry, part 1: Setting the Stage

In order to understand the art (which includes #poetry) that came out of the First World War, we need to know a bit about the nature of "The Great War" and its aftermath. #wwi

The world was a much different place at the start of what was to become known as the "War to End All Wars" (of course it wasn't the end, as WWII happened around 20 years later).

At the start of WWI, the general view as that war was gallant, but at the end pretty much everyone - especially soldiers - were disillusioned and jaded. Those who made it back became known as the "Lost Generation".

The First World War is considered the first "modern" war, with the first use of such technology as airplanes, submarines, barbed wire, poison gas, machine guns and tanks.

All of this led to uneasy feelings about the modern world, technology, and the humanity of mankind. A lot of artwork from the period demonstrated these tensions. This leads us to our BIG QUESTION:

How are the arts connected to war?

As for poetry, a number of the soldiers - particularly British ones - took to penning verse while in the trenches or in hospitals or homes recovering from battle wounds (some wounds were more psychological, like being "shell-shocked".

Life in the trenches was often boring yet at the same time gruesome. Here's more on that:

Recently, the experience has been "brought to life" by Lord of the Rings director Peter Jackson, who has colorized archival footage for his WWI film "They Shall Not Grow Old".

Poet-soldiers give us insight not only into war conditions but...to the condition of man himself. Many poets started off more positively, but after actually experiencing the horrors of modern warfare changed their tune and wrote more bluntly about what they saw and felt.

Here is Wilfred Owen's poem, "Dulce et Decorum Est"

Bent double, like old beggars under sacks,

Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge,

Till on the haunting flares we turned our backs,

And towards our distant rest began to trudge.

Men marched asleep. Many had lost their boots,

But limped on, blood-shod. All went lame; all blind;

Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hoots

Of gas-shells dropping softly behind.

Gas! GAS! Quick, boys!—An ecstasy of fumbling

Fitting the clumsy helmets just in time,

But someone still was yelling out and stumbling

And flound’ring like a man in fire or lime.—

Dim through the misty panes and thick green light,

As under a green sea, I saw him drowning.

In all my dreams before my helpless sight,

He plunges at me, guttering, choking, drowning.

If in some smothering dreams, you too could pace

Behind the wagon that we flung him in,

And watch the white eyes writhing in his face,

His hanging face, like a devil’s sick of sin;

If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood

Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs,

Obscene as cancer, bitter as the cud

Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues,—

My friend, you would not tell with such high zest

To children ardent for some desperate glory,

The old Lie: Dulce et decorum est

Pro patria mori.

For a really great analysis of the poem, check this out

Vocabulary from this lesson

Archduke Franz Ferdinand

Austria-Hungary (or Austrian-Hungarian Empire)

The Central Powers

The Allies

Serbia

The Black Hand / Gavrilo Princip

Sarajevo

President Woodrow Wilson

The Russian Revolution

trench warfare

no man's land

mustard gas

shell-shock

u-boat

Lusitania

tank

conscription

Verdun

The Somme

zeppelin

The Lost Generation

Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori

Wilfred Owen

Please be prepared to use these terms in an upcoming quiz.