Goodrich C. Schauffler

I SAW Chalandry gassed:

Four hundred men—

Blind, retching, snuffling—

Staggering past.

The colonel and his staff,

Our ninety-sixth—

Men, horses, officers—

Over half.

Two carried one, and all

Whose sight remained

Led columns wavering,

Quick to fall.

Those, silent, stumbled by,

And brushed their eyes

With grimy rags or fists

Unendingly.

Out of the night they came,

And all day long;

And then another night,

Still the same.