Shippy, the little man with the sharp rat-eyes, Saw someone run in front of them waving a sword; Then they were going along toward a whining sound That ran like cold spring-water along his spine. God, he was in for it now! His sharp rat-eyes Flickered around and about him hopelessly. If a fellow could only drop out, if a fellow could only Pretend he was hurt a little and then drop out Behind a big, safe oak-tree⁠—no use⁠—no use⁠— He was in for it, now. He couldn’t get away. “ Come on, boys⁠—come on, men⁠—clean them out with the bayonet! ” He saw a rail-fence ahead, a quiet rail-fence, But men were back of it⁠—grey lumps⁠—a million bees Stinging the air⁠—Oh Jesus, the corporal’s got it!⁠— He couldn’t shoot, even⁠—he was too scared to shoot⁠— His legs took him on⁠—he couldn’t stop his legs Or the weak urine suddenly trickling down them.