<html xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><body><h1 align="center" class="head">The White Comrade</h1><h1 align="center" class="head">(<span class="smallcaps">After</span> W. H. <span class="smallcaps">Leatham's</span><em>The Comrade in White</em>)</h1><div class="stanza"><p class="line"><span class="smallcaps">Under</span> our curtain of fire,</p><p class="line">Over the clotted clods,</p><p class="line">We charged, to be withered, to reel</p><p class="line">And despairingly wheel</p><p class="line">When the bugles bade us retire</p><p class="line">From the terrible odds.</p></div><div class="stanza"><p class="line">As we ebbed with the battle-tide,</p><p class="line">Fingers of red-hot steel</p><p class="line">Suddenly closed on my side.</p><p class="line">I fell, and began to pray.</p><p class="line">I crawled on my hands and lay</p><p class="line">Where a shallow crater yawned wide;</p><p class="line">Then, -- I swooned....</p></div><div class="stanza"><p class="line">When I woke, it was yet day.</p><p class="line">Fierce was the pain of my wound,</p><p class="line">But I saw it was death to stir,</p><p class="line">For fifty paces away</p><p class="line">Their trenches were.</p><p class="line">In torture I prayed for the dark</p><p class="line">And the stealthy step of my friend</p><p class="line">Who, staunch to the very end,</p><p class="line">Would creep to the danger zone</p><p class="line">And offer his life as a mark</p><p class="line">To save my own.</p></div><div class="stanza"><p class="line">Night fell. I heard his tread,</p><p class="line">Not stealthy, but firm and serene,</p><p class="line">As if my comrade's head</p><p class="line">Were lifted far from that scene</p><p class="line">Of passion and pain and dread;</p><p class="line">As if my comrade's heart</p><p class="line">In carnage took no part;</p><p class="line">As if my comrade's feet</p><p class="line">Were set on some radiant street</p><p class="line">Such as no darkness might haunt;</p><p class="line">As if my comrade's eyes,</p><p class="line">No deluge of flame could surprise,</p><p class="line">No death and destruction daunt,</p><p class="line">No red-beaked bird dismay,</p><p class="line">Nor sight of decay.</p></div><div class="stanza"><p class="line">Then in the bursting shells' dim light</p><p class="line">I saw he was clad in white.</p><p class="line">For a moment I thought that I saw the smock</p><p class="line">Of a shepherd in search of his flock.</p><p class="line">Alert were the enemy, too,</p><p class="line">And their bullets flew</p><p class="line">Straight at a mark no bullet could fail:</p><p class="line">For the seeker was tall and his robe was bright;</p><p class="line">But he did not flee nor quail.</p><p class="line">Instead, with unhurrying stride</p><p class="line">He came,</p><p class="line">And gathering my tall frame,</p><p class="line">Like a child, in his arms....</p></div><div class="stanza"><p class="line">Again I swooned,</p><p class="line">And awoke</p><p class="line">From a blissful dream</p><p class="line">In a cave by a stream.</p><p class="line">My silent comrade had bound my side.</p><p class="line">No pain now was mine, but a wish that I spoke, --</p><p class="line">A mastering wish to serve this man</p><p class="line">Who had ventured through hell my doom to revoke,</p><p class="line">As only the truest of comrades can.</p><p class="line">I begged him to tell me how best I might aid him,</p><p class="line">And urgently prayed him</p><p class="line">Never to leave me, whatever betide;</p><p class="line">When I saw he was hurt --</p><p class="line">Shot through he hands that were clasped in prayer!</p><p class="line">Then, as the dark drops gathered there</p><p class="line">And fell in the dirt,</p><p class="line">The wounds of my friend</p><p class="line">Seemed to me such as no man might bear.</p><p class="line">Those bullet-holes in the patient hands</p><p class="line">Seemed to transcend</p><p class="line">All horrors that ever these war-drenched lands</p><p class="line">Had known or would know till the mad world's end.</p></div><div class="stanza"><p class="line">Then suddenly I was aware</p><p class="line">That his feet had been wounded, too;</p><p class="line">And, dimming the white of his side,</p><p class="line">A dull stain grew.</p><p class="line">"You are hurt, White Comrade!" I cried.</p><p class="line">His words I already foreknew:</p><p class="line">"These are old wounds," said he,</p><p class="line">"But of late they have troubled me."</p></div><p class="byline">Robert Haven Schauffler</p></body></html> · Great War