A. P. Herbert Poems

At last, in spite of you, the picture's plain:
At last the world knows where to look for 'lies'.
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On, on, Steam-Roller! Give 'em Hell!
But please don't crush our friends as well.
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In Memoriam—Admiral Sir Bertram Ramsay)
I made a ferry through the foam—
Dunkirk and Deal—Dieppe and Dover:
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Mon General, you sing a testy tune.
Go back to 1940, May and June.
Did you hear then a single sneer or moan
From this old land, abandoned and alone?
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Rundstedt is 'old and sick', the prisoners tell:
So let us hope he's never young and well.
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There's always some new river in the way
(I like to think that rivers matter still).
Always the bridge was broken yesterday;
And panting hosts are thwarted of their kill.
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Add one more crazy legend to the Niebelungenlied—
Of Canada and Cockney rolling up the Siegfried Line.
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Red soldier, still we cannot believe the things we see:
It is five hundred leagues from Stalingrad to Spree!
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Salute the sappers, all you fighting men;
All you great guns and tanks and lorries, bow!
Bow down, bazooka, bayonet and Bren.
Without the sapper, where would you be now?
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Good fortune, Sir. Your grip expands.
Another nettle in your hands!
May England, unlike other lands,
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