Siegfried Sassoon, "Wirers"

Wirers'Pass it along, the wiring party's going out'-- And yawning sentries mumble, 'Wirers going out.' Unravelling; twisting; hammering stakes with muffled thud, They toil with stealthy haste and anger in their blood. The Boche sends up a flare. Black forms stand rigid there,Stock-still like posts; then darkness, and the clumsy ghosts Stride hither and thither, whispering, tripped by