When the last long trek is over,
And the last long trench filled in,
I’ll take a boat to Dover,
Away from all the din;
I'll take a trip to Mendip,
I'll see the Wiltshire downs,
And all my soul I'll then dip
In peace no trouble drowns.
Away from noise of battle,
Away from bombs and shells,
I’ll lie where browse the cattle,
Or pluck the purple bells;
I’ll lie among the heather;
And watch the distant plain,
Through all the summer weather,
Nor go to fight again.
-Alec de Candole; British, killed in action 1918, World War I
‘I believe I have lost all my ambitions. I don’t think I would turn my hand to be a distinguished chemist or a famous mathmetician. All I now care about is to be a useful citizen, with money onough to buy bread and firewood, and to teach my children to ride on horseback, and look strangers in the face, especially Southern strangers.’
-Charles Russell Lowell; American, killed in 1864, American Civil War
...O youths to come shall drink air warm and bright,
Shall hear the bird cry in the sunny wood,
All my Young England fell today in fight:
That bird, that wood, was ransomed by our blood!
I pray you when the drum rolls let your mood
Be worthy of our deaths and your delight.