Ewart Alan Mackintosh
The air is still, the light winds blow
Too quietly to wake you now.
Dreamer, you dream too well to know
“Whose hand set death upon your brow,
The shrinking flesh the bullets tore
Will never pulse with fear again;
Sleep on, remembering no more
Your sudden agony of pain.
Oh, poor brave smiling face made naught,
Turned back to dust from whence you came,
You have forgot the men you fought,
The wounds that burnt you like a flame;
With stiff hand crumbling a clod,
And blind eyes staring at the sky,
The awful evidence of God
Against the men who made you die.
You have forgotten, sleeping well,
But what of them? shall they forget
Your body broken with the shell,
Your brow whereon their seal is set?
Does earth for them hold any place
Where they shall never see the flies
Clustered about your empty face
And on your blind, accusing eyes?
Good-night, good sleep to you. But they
Will never know good-night again,
Whose eyes are seeing night and day,
The humble men who died in vain.
Their ears are filled with bitter cries,
Their nostrils with the powder smell,
And shall see your mournful eyes
Across the reeking fires of hell.
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Analysis (AI Assisted)
This war poem is a stark and haunting reflection on death, memory, and the cost of war, capturing the contrast between the peaceful oblivion of the dead and the enduring torment of those who remain. The poem focuses on the experience of a soldier who has died, contrasting his current state of eternal sleep with the ongoing suffering of those who survive, especially those who were involved in his death.
The first few lines set a quiet, almost serene tone, describing the stillness of the air and the gentle breeze that does little more than “blow / Too quietly to wake you now.” This peaceful atmosphere, however, is undercut by the reality of the soldier’s death, and the narrator’s observation that the “dreamer” (the dead soldier) will never awaken to know “whose hand set death upon your brow.” The juxtaposition of peace and violence is stark, with death portrayed as both a release and a tragedy. The soldier, in his peaceful sleep, has forgotten the pain of his death and the agony he endured, a “sudden agony of pain,” which now lies in the past, erased in the silence of death.
As the poem moves into the second stanza, the tone becomes more accusatory and somber. The dead soldier’s body is described as “poor brave smiling face made naught,” now reduced to dust. The phrase “turned back to dust from whence you came” invokes the idea of the soldier’s body returning to the earth, emphasizing the cycle of life and death, while also hinting at the futility of his sacrifice. He has forgotten the violence of war, but the poem suggests that those left behind—those who made him die—will never escape the brutal consequences. The “stiff hand crumbling a clod” and “blind eyes staring at the sky” symbolize the soldier’s death, but the line “the awful evidence of God / Against the men who made you die” introduces a theological and moral weight. The narrator seems to question the divine justice of war, challenging the notion that any higher power could condone the horrors that men inflict upon each other.
The next stanza shifts focus from the dead soldier to those who are still alive, particularly the men who killed him. The narrator asks, “What of them? shall they forget,” questioning whether those responsible for the soldier’s death can ever escape the memory of their actions. The image of flies clustered on the soldier’s face and “on your blind, accusing eyes” evokes the horror of decay, implying that the soldier’s death—like all deaths in war—leaves an indelible mark not just on the body, but on the soul. It is an uncomfortable reminder that while the dead are free from suffering, those who remain must face the consequences of their actions, whether they can live with them or not.
The final stanza introduces a powerful contrast between the peace of the soldier’s death and the unrelenting suffering of the survivors. The dead soldier “sleep[s] well” in his grave, but the men who killed him—those who fought and perhaps took his life—will never know “good-night again.” They are haunted by the “bitter cries” and the “powder smell” of battle. The soldiers who remain are depicted as trapped in a waking nightmare, unable to escape the horrors they have witnessed and participated in. The poem closes with the image of the dead soldier’s “mournful eyes,” suggesting that his spirit lingers, forever watching the survivors, reminding them of their guilt. The reference to “the reeking fires of hell” suggests a punishment that transcends the physical, a hell of the mind where these men must live with the weight of their actions.
Throughout the poem, there is an exploration of the moral consequences of war. The dead soldier, now at peace, has “forgotten” his suffering, but the men who caused his death are unable to escape their memory of it. The question of whether the dead soldier is “forgotten” or “remembered” becomes a powerful theme, particularly in the way the survivors, with their guilt, are forced to confront the horror of war even after the fighting ends.
The language of the poem is blunt, stark, and vivid, often describing death in uncomfortable, raw terms. The “shrinking flesh the bullets tore” and “stiff hand crumbling a clod” are grim images that bring the violence of war to the forefront, while the flies and the “blind, accusing eyes” symbolize the unrelenting presence of guilt and death. The repeated references to sleep and oblivion—”good-night, good sleep to you”—contrast with the unending waking nightmare of the survivors, heightening the sense of injustice and moral reckoning.
In conclusion, this poem explores the themes of war, death, and moral responsibility through the lens of those who survive and those who do not. It suggests that while death may bring an end to the soldier’s suffering, it leaves a lasting burden on the living—particularly those who were complicit in the violence. The dead may rest, but the living are condemned to remember, haunted by their actions. This creates a deep and unsettling reflection on the true cost of war, not just in terms of lives lost, but in the lasting psychological toll it takes on those who fight it. The poem does not offer any easy resolutions or comfort, but instead leaves us with the harsh reality that war’s aftermath is not just physical but spiritual, echoing in the souls of those who are left behind.