Robert Graves
Back from the line one night in June,
I gave a dinner at Bethune—
Seven courses, the most gorgeous meal
Money could buy or batman steal.
Five hungry lads welcomed the fish
With shouts that nearly cracked the dish;
Asparagus came with tender tops,
Strawberries in cream, and mutton chops.
Said Jenkins, as my hand he shook,
“They’ll put this in the history book.”
We bawled Church anthems in choro
Of Bethlehem and Hermon snow,
With drinking songs, a jolly sound
To help the good red Pommard round.
Stories and laughter interspersed,
We drowned a long La Bassée thirst—
Trenches in June make throats damned dry.
Then through the window suddenly,
Badge, stripes and medals all complete,
We saw him swagger up the street,
Just like a live man—Corporal Stare!
Stare! Killed last May at Festubert.
Caught on patrol near the Boche wire,
Torn horribly by machine-gun fire!
He paused, saluted smartly, grinned,
Then passed away like a puff of wind,
Leaving us blank astonishment.
The song broke, up we started, leant
Out of the window—nothing there,
Not the least shadow of Corporal Stare,
Only a quiver of smoke that showed
A fag-end dropped on the silent road.
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Analysis (AI Assisted)
This poem is an eerie and unsettling exploration of death, camaraderie, and the surreal experiences that often blur the line between life and death in the context of war. It takes the form of a macabre dinner scene, where soldiers—having just returned from the front lines—gather to share a sumptuous meal, but are interrupted by the sudden and inexplicable appearance of a comrade who was believed to be dead.
The opening stanza sets the scene with vivid details of the meal and the jovial atmosphere among the men. The “seven courses” and “gorgeous meal” speak to a brief respite from the horrors of war, where the soldiers can indulge in luxury, even if only for a short time. The descriptions of the food—”asparagus,” “strawberries in cream,” and “mutton chops”—contrast sharply with the grim realities of the war, making this moment of indulgence feel almost absurd in its opulence.
The atmosphere of conviviality is punctuated by the moment when they see a figure outside: Corporal Stare, who had been killed months earlier. The abrupt shift from joy to horror is chilling, as the soldiers recognize him as someone who should be dead. The language used to describe his appearance—“swaggers up the street / Just like a live man”—creates a disorienting, ghostly image of Stare as a living apparition, which only deepens the sense of surrealism. His presence is fleeting, though, and it’s almost as if the poem wants to question the very nature of death itself: is it a permanent condition, or is it something that can be momentarily defied?
The key moment of strangeness comes when the men realize that the corporal is gone. His appearance is so vivid and real that it briefly shatters the soldiers’ perceptions of their reality. They rush to the window, hoping to catch a glimpse of him again, but find only “a quiver of smoke that showed / A fag-end dropped on the silent road.” This final image of the cigarette butt is powerful in its stark, almost trivial nature. The insignificance of the cigarette, once something mundane, now takes on a heavy symbolic weight, suggesting that the only trace of Stare is his fleeting presence in the form of the cigarette. In this moment, the poem ties the physicality of war—the dirt, smoke, and death—into an almost spiritual realm, where the boundaries between life and death are unclear, and the soldiers are left with nothing but a sense of baffling loss.
The poem works on several levels. On the surface, it’s a story of soldiers seeking comfort and pleasure amidst the horrors of war, yet underneath that, there’s a chilling commentary on the inescapable presence of death. Stare’s ghostly visit is the poem’s central motif, and it disrupts the illusion of safety and normalcy that the soldiers are trying to cling to. His presence is a reminder that, no matter how hard the soldiers try to escape the war, its effects linger even in the moments of peace.
The surreal nature of the poem is compounded by the absence of explanation. There is no clear answer to why or how Stare appears, or whether it’s a mere hallucination, a supernatural visit, or simply a breakdown in the soldiers’ perception of reality due to the stress and trauma of war. The poem doesn’t offer any closure or moral; instead, it leaves the reader with a sense of discomfort and uncertainty, mirroring the confusion and psychological toll of war.
In many ways, this poem belongs to the tradition of war poetry that explores the psychological impact of conflict. But unlike the more straightforward depictions of trauma or loss, this poem uses the bizarre and uncanny to evoke the disorienting effect of war on the human mind. The appearance of Stare is not just a ghost story—it’s a meditation on how war warps perception, how death might seem just as arbitrary as life, and how even in moments of supposed peace, the specter of death can never be fully escaped.
The tone of the poem is casual and almost lighthearted in its depiction of the dinner, which serves to make the surreal appearance of Corporal Stare even more jarring. The jolly camaraderie among the men—filled with songs, laughter, and drinking—is suddenly interrupted by something that defies logic and shakes their sense of reality. The abrupt transition between merriment and horror underscores the unpredictability of war and the constant presence of death that lingers, even in seemingly innocent moments.
Ultimately, the poem offers a haunting reflection on the thin veil between life and death in wartime. It captures the surreal nature of soldiers’ experiences, where moments of joy can be shattered in an instant by the ghostly reminder that war is never far, even in the most unexpected forms.