It’s A Queer Time

Robert Graves

It’s hard to know if you’re alive or dead
When steel and fire go roaring through your head.

One moment you’ll be crouching at your gun
Traversing, mowing heaps down half in fun:
The next, you choke and clutch at your right breast –
No time to think – leave all – and off you go…
To Treasure Island where the Spice winds blow,
To lovely groves of mango, quince and lime –
Breathe no good-bye, but ho, for the Red West!
It’s a queer time.

You’re charging madly at them yelling “Fag!”
When somehow something gives and your feet drag.
You fall and strike your head; yet feel no pain
And find… you’re digging tunnels through the hay
In the Big Barn, ’cause it’s a rainy day.
Oh, springy hay, and lovely beams to climb!
You’re back in the old sailor suit again.
It’s a queer time.

Or you’ll be dozing safe in your dug-out –
A great roar-the trench shakes and falls about
You’re struggling, gasping, struggling, then… hullo!
Elsie comes tripping gaily down the trench,
Hanky to nose-that lyddite makes a stench –
Getting her pinafore all over grime.
Funny! because she died ten years ago!
It’s a queer time.

The trouble is, things happen much too quick;
Up jump the Boches, rifles thump and click,
You stagger, and the whole scene fades away:
Even good Christians don’t like passing straight
From Tipperary or their Hymn of Hate
To Alleluiah-chanting, and the chime
Of golden harps… and… I’m not well to-day…
It’s a queer time.

© by owner. provided at no charge for educational purposes

Analysis (AI Assisted)

This poem, with its disjointed and surreal narrative, captures the chaotic and disorienting experiences of a soldier in the trenches of war. The speaker oscillates between the stark, violent reality of combat and a shifting, dreamlike world where memories, fantasies, and ghosts intervene—offering both a respite and a deeper sense of unease. The phrase “It’s a queer time” is repeated throughout, encapsulating the confusion and the often contradictory emotions felt by soldiers in the trenches.

The opening lines, *”It’s hard to know if you’re alive or dead / When steel and fire go roaring through your head,”* immediately set the tone, conveying the disorientation and sensory overload that characterizes the experience of war. The juxtaposition of life and death—being unsure whether you’re “alive or dead”—mirrors the psychological toll of the violence, where soldiers are so overwhelmed by the chaos of war that distinguishing between the two seems impossible. This lack of clarity is a recurrent theme in the poem, underscoring the mental and emotional fragmentation that war causes.

The soldier’s perception of time and space is disrupted throughout the poem. One moment, he’s in the heat of battle, *”crouching at your gun / Traversing, mowing heaps down half in fun,”* an almost casual attitude to violence as he mows down the enemy. In the next moment, however, the intensity shifts dramatically. The speaker describes *”choking and clutching at your right breast,”* an almost visceral sense of injury, followed by a sudden escape into the fantasy of *”Treasure Island where the Spice winds blow,”* a dreamlike, tropical escape. The contrast between war’s brutality and childhood memories of joy and adventure—*“lovely groves of mango, quince and lime”*—is stark, emphasizing the soldier’s attempt to retreat from the horror into a comforting fantasy. It’s as if his mind is searching for any way to escape the war, clinging to moments of peace and beauty, even if they are fleeting.

The second stanza further explores this surreal experience, blending the violence of war with childlike memories. The soldier imagines himself *”charging madly at them yelling ‘Fag!'”*—a crude, aggressive outburst—and then abruptly transitioning to the innocence of playing in the hayloft on a rainy day, *”digging tunnels through the hay.”* The shift from the brutality of battle to the simplicity of childhood innocence highlights how the mind tries to seek refuge in nostalgia, even in the middle of the most harrowing moments.

In the third stanza, the soldier is seemingly safe in his dugout, until *”a great roar—the trench shakes and falls about,”* and the chaos resumes. Here, the hallucinations become more jarring as the soldier envisions *”Elsie,”* a person who had died ten years ago, returning and walking down the trench. The surreal nature of this moment—where death and life blur, and the past and present collide—reinforces the theme of disorientation. The “pinafore all over grime” suggests innocence lost, the stark contrast between Elsie’s innocence and the grotesque conditions of the war heightening the eerie, dreamlike quality of the experience.

The final stanza brings in the idea of a disorienting spiritual transition. The soldier is caught between the horrors of war—*“Up jump the Boches, rifles thump and click”*—and the possibility of an afterlife, *“Alleluiah-chanting, and the chime / Of golden harps.”* The shift from the visceral violence of war to a peaceful, almost cliché religious image of the afterlife highlights the confusion and tension the soldier feels in his liminal state, caught between life, death, and everything in between. The final line, *“I’m not well today…”* suggests that this blurring of reality and fantasy is taking a toll on the soldier’s psyche.

Ultimately, the poem conveys the disorienting nature of war, the psychological strain it inflicts on soldiers, and the surreal, sometimes hallucinatory experiences they endure. The repeated refrain *“It’s a queer time”* encapsulates the sense of time and reality being warped by the horrors of conflict, where every moment seems to fracture and bend into something otherworldly. The soldier’s mind becomes a battleground in itself, torn between the physical and the psychological, the real and the imagined. The poem captures this with stark, often unsettling imagery, providing a haunting portrayal of the mental toll war takes on those who fight.

Discover more from War Poetry

Subscribe now to keep reading and get access to the full archive.

Continue reading