My Great Great Grandfather Charles Rawlings Killed in action and remembered on the Menin Gate TRENCHES: ST. ELOI Over the flat slope of St. EloiA wide wall of sand bags. Night,In the silence desultory menPottering over small fires, cleaning their mess-tins:To and fro, from the lines,Men walk as on Piccadilly,Making paths in the dark,Through scattered dead horses,Over a dead Belgian's belly.The German have rockets. The English have no rockets.Behind the line, cannon, hidden, lying back miles.Before the line, chaos:My mind is a corridor. The minds about me are corridors. Nothing suggests itself. There is nothing to do but keep on. Thomas E. Hulme

Cheryl Kilgannon