Source: File: Wilfred
Owen 1916. See an original image at: <http://www.borrowers.uga.edu/782958/show>
[Accessed 27 July 2016]
Seven months, a
long time through war,
As battles fought, lose with minimal gain;
With front line
loss of numbers others
Are in
manufacture of war, prepared.
With fingers
stained from hated rifle oil,
One cadet Private
Wilfred Owen made
Months of
training as a trooper - days
Of barking drills
punctuated by walks.
Escapism came by
way of London, with
Monk-like
fixation to good books and
Poetry - ambition
always simmered, from
Ideas of
poetry to release a creative mind.
Word experiments
and the body always
Remained as some
metaphor, aiming
At something
higher than sensuality,
In preference for
critics by friend Monro.
Through phases
Wilfred Owen made
Reinventions of
self; as a pale parish
Assistant to
French dandy, to become
A disciplined
soldier, as fit as his equals.
Change once again
came, this time
June 1916 - discharged from Artists
Rifles to take an
officers commission -
A second
Lieutenant with Manchester’s.
Moving up ranks
involved another
Rung, as he
reported for duty - Witley
Camp in Surry was
beautifully vast,
A culture shock
with odd conventions.
The 3/5th Manchester’s
were solid,
Earthy northern
men - a lot of miners
Formed out of
three unified units
Of mixed ages, Owen gained a platoon.
Consisting of
four sections of ten men
Each led by
corporal along with his
Servant scouts
and a sergeant, Owen's
Role to train them
for varied duties.
Working as a team, the four sections
Leant to attack
and defend - to become
Proficient in
rifle and bomb and
Lewis gun, as instructed
by their officer.
Obsessed by three 'ings'; marching,
Digging and killing - he saw these men
As ugly, hard, coarse Lancashire Saxons
Digging and killing - he saw these men
As ugly, hard, coarse Lancashire Saxons
Who would remain
reliable under fire.
For majority leaving
Witley camp was
Only possible
with permission, except
Officers who had privileges
- Lieutenant
Owen made his escape on a bicycle.
Away from camp and
his role Owen
Very likely became
more his old
Self - admirer of
beauty of locality,
Lingering in shops
of tea and books.
Sunday 2 July, leaning against his
Bike in survey of green countryside,
Bike in survey of green countryside,
He listened to mutterings in France;
Mutual guns battering their enemy.
Mutual guns battering their enemy.
Manchester’s had
taken part within
The biggest push
and Montauban
In the South had been captured by
Them - but the North had suffered.
Them - but the North had suffered.
As news of the Somme
crept over,
Owen attended a
course travelling
To Aldershot, showing an ability with
Rifle - yet he
was to carry a revolver.
Acknowledgement of self-confirmation
As soldier in the
Aldershot barracks,
Owen visited old
ground of Dunsden -
His Pope and
Bradley uniform noted.
In leave at
Alpenrose Wilfred Owen
Became the
subject of his Uncle John.
To pose in a
camera studio full and half
Face, with and without
his officer’s cap.
By natural light
john Gunston chatted
To his nephew,
whose image reflected
On the glass - 'that’s
it my boy, slightly
More right, look
towards me, sideways.'
A living form
poised, colour of face
Hair and uniform
captured with a click
Into tones of
grey - 'another one please.'
Owen stood still,
to enjoy the thought.
Unaware though
how they would convey
Him into
eternity. He changed position
Slightly under
instruction, used to orders,
Taking a blink
before the shutter took him.
Cool eyes under
heavy lids, looked
Calmly askant and
out to the watcher -
This was
confirmation of ambition -
Owen was now a gentleman
and officer.
By Jamie Mann.
Hibberd, D., 2002. Wilfred
Owen – A New Biography. London. Weidenfeld & Nicolson. Ch 11.
Mann, J., 2016. 100 years Ago - Poems by Jamie Mann. [letter] (Personal
communication, 27 July 2016).
#WW1 #WW1centenary #GreatWar #WW1poem #GreatWar #WW1centenary
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