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We sat together in the trench,

He on a lump of frozen earth

Blown in the night before,

I on an unexploded shell;

And smoked and talked, like exiles,

Of how pleasant London was,

Its women, restaurants, night clubs, theatres,

How at that very hour

The taxi cabs were taking folk to dine …

Then we sat silent for a while

As a machine gun swept the parapet.

He said:

"I've been here on and off two years

And only seen one man killed."

"That's odd."

"The bullet hit him in the throat;

He fell in a heap on the fire-step,

And called out 'My God! dead!"

"Good Lord, how terrible!"

"Well, as to that, the nastiest job I've had

Was last year on this very front

Taking the discs at night from men

Who'd hung for six months on the wire

Just over there.