Page:A treasury of war poetry, British and American poems of the world war, 1914-1919.djvu/289

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The sentries stood like men in a dream,

With their faces to the German line.

He felt of their arms, their bodies, and their legs,

But they made no sound or sign.

He beckoned to the others, and three jumped in.

I was shaking like a man with a chill;

But I couldn't help smiling when the sergeant said

Through his chattering teeth: "K-k-k-keep s-s-s-still!"

A hairy-armed giant, with rings in his ears,

Stood looking down the dugout stair,

Hands on his knees. Slowly he turned,

And saw us lying there!

With a huge forefinger and a huge, thick thumb

He felt us over, limb by limb.

The two of us together would not have made

One man the size of him.

I could see his scorn, and my face burned hot,

Though my body was cold and numb,

When he spanned my chest so disdainfully

With only a finger and a thumb.

Suddenly the chatter of the sergeant's teeth

Stopped. He was angry, too;

And he whispered: "Are you game? Get the Maxim gun!"

I hugged him. "It will scare them blue."

Slowly, very slowly, we rose to our feet;

I was conscious of my knocking knees.

The murmur of their voices was an eery sound

Like wind in wintry trees.

I saw them staring from the tail of my eye

As the tripod legs were set.

We lifted the gun and clamped it on,

With the muzzle at the parapet.

Nervously I pushed in the tag of the belt;

The sergeant loaded and laid

Quietly, deftly; the click of the lock

Was the only sound he made.