At the crowded gangway they kissed good-bye. 
He had half a mind to scold her. 
An officer's mother and not keep dry 
The epaulet on his shoulder. 

He had forgotten mother and fame, 
His mind in a blood-mist floated, 
But when reeling back from carnage they came, 
One told him: "You are promoted!"

His friend smiled up from the wet red sand, 
The look was afar, eternal, 
But he tried to salute with his shattered hand: 
"Room now for another colonel!" 

Again he raged in that lurid hell 
Where the country he loved had thrown him. 
"You are promoted!" shrieked a shell. 
His mother would not have known him.