Writ in Barracks

A tent that is pitched at the base: A wagon that comes from the night: A stretcher-and on it a Case: A surgeon, who's holding a light. The Infantry's bearing the brunt- O hark to the wind-carried cheer! A mutter of guns at the front: A whimper of sobs at the rear. And it's War! 'Orderly, hold the light. You can lay him down on the table: so. Easily-gently! Thanks-you may go.' And it's War! but the part that is not for show.