Wilfred Owen – Dulce et Decorum Est

Posted on by Opher

Wilfred Owen is one of my favourite poets. He lived through the terrors of the 1st World War and was killed right at the end. He saw terrible things and suffered post traumatic stress. He also wrote the most moving poems about the reality and horrors of war. Nobody has done it better. I am always moved by graphic depictions. They are real. He captures it.

He went to war full of ideals of chivalry, bravery and idealism. He saw the slaughter and reality and realised it was all a lie – one big lie. There is nothing noble or valiant about dying for someone else’s ideas of what is right. War is about power

This poem captures the unglamorous reality of the weariness, fear, terror and disgusting degradation and dehumanisation of war.

When I ran the Remembrance Service at school this is the poem I read. There were some who said it was too graphic. How can war be talked about in kind words?

Lest we forget.

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.
Dulce et decorum est
Pro patria mori.
It is sweet and just to die for one’s country.

2 thoughts on “Wilfred Owen – Dulce et Decorum Est”

  1. I remember an excellent Schools Programme about the meeting of Owen and Sassoon. Only 30mins but really powerful and thought-provoking. Used it with classes till it fell apart. Wish I could see it again.

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