1917

Went to see this vey powerful film once again echoing the futility of war. Couldn’t stop thinking about the war poets who touched many people with their insights into war. Lots of rats in the film which made me think of a couple of lines from Herbert Asquith’s poem’
Up and down, up and down
They go, the black rat and the brown:
A pistol cracks; they too are dead
And the night wind rustles overhead’