Mud and Rain

Mindful, perhaps, of the imminent centenary of the outbreak of the Great War, this sodden, muddy field reminded me of Siegfried Sassoon's poem Mud and Rain, written shortly after the battle of Passchendaele.


Mud and rain and wretchedness and blood.
Why should jolly soldier-boys complain?
God made these before the roofless Flood -
Mud and rain.

Mangling cramps and bullets through the brain,
Jesus never guessed them when He died.
Jesus had a purpose for His pain,
Ay, like abject beasts we shed our blood,
Often asking if we die in vain.
Gloom conceals us in a soaking sack --
Mud and rain.

Siegfried Sassoon