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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=519046" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Twelve Months After</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=519046" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Hullo! here’s my platoon, the lot I had last year. <br>‘The war’ll be over soon.’ <br>‘What ’opes?’ <br>‘No bloody fear!’ <br>Then, ‘Number Seven, ’shun! All present and correct.’<br>They’re standing in the sun, impassive and erect. <br>Young Gibson with his grin; and Morgan, tired and white; <br>Jordan, who’s out to win a D.C.M. some night; <br>And Hughes that’s keen on wiring; and Davies (’79), <br>Who always must be firing at the Boche front line.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=519046" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">. . . . <br>‘Old soldiers never die; they simply fide a-why!’ <br>That’s what they used to sing along the roads last spring; <br>That’s what they used to say before the push began; <br>That’s where they are to-day, knocked over to a man.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Siegfried+Sassoon">Siegfried Sassoon</a></strong></div>

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