"I can't blow taps no more," He says to me. (They'd kidded him outside the barracks door.) "I used to do it pretty well before— Before I played my buddy off. It's war, But don't you see? "The moon was full and white, And shinin' free, About the way it's shinin' there tonight. We started up, and Buddy got it right— A piece of shrap; it dropped him out the fight Alongside me. "We laid him in the clay; And it was me That sounded taps; there was no other way. ... I can't blow taps no more ... but say! I tapped a German skull the other day. And that squares me!" | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE SELF-SEEKER by ROBERT FROST ADDRESS TO THE UNCO GUID, OR THE RIGIDLY RIGHTEOUS by ROBERT BURNS THE MAN-OF-WAR HAWK by HERMAN MELVILLE THE DANUBE RIVER by C. HAMILTON AIDE FESTUBERT: THE OLD GERMAN LINE by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN ON THE WAY TO CHURCH by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT |