A Narrative Of The War Poem by RIC BASTASA

The soldiers are nearly all young men,
and far more Filipino than is generally supposed -
I should say nine-tenths are native-born.

Among the arrivals from Luzon
I find a large proportion of tagalogs and bicolanos

men. As usual, there are all sorts of wounds.
Some of the men fearfully burnt
from the explosions.
One ward has a long row of officers, some with ugly hurts.
Yesterday was perhaps worse than usual.
Amputations are going on -
the attendants are dressing wounds.
As you pass by,
you must be on your guard
where you look.
I saw the other day a gentleman,
a visitor apparently from curiosity,
in one of the wards,
stop and turn a moment
to look at an awful wound
they were probing.

He turn'd pale, and in a moment more
he had fainted away
and fallen
on the floor.