The poem describes the horrors of a gas attack during World War I as witnessed by the speaker. Through vivid sensory details, the speaker recalls soldiers stumbling through mud, blinded and choking from gas as one man drowns in front of them. The traumatic experience has stayed with the speaker through dreams. In the final lines, the speaker aims to dissuade others from glorifying war, calling it a "lie" to claim that it is sweet and honorable to die for one's country.

1. Presentation by: Kim Dalve, Sam Lucas, Zach Gray, & Bruce Greer

2. Dulce Et Decorum Est
Bent double, like old beggars under sacks,
Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge,
Till on the haunting flares we turned our backs
And towards our distant rest began to trudge. The speaker is a first-hand
Men marched asleep. Many had lost their boots
witness to this event. He is
War
But limped on, blood-shod. All went lame; all blind;
Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hoots recalling it. He is a soldier in
Of disappointed shells that dropped behind.
this war. He was able to get
GAS! Gas! Quick, boys!-- An ecstasy of fumbling, his gas mask on in time. He
Fitting the clumsy helmets just in time;
But someone still was yelling out and stumbling was greatly affected by what
And floundering like a man in fire or lime.-- happened. It stays with him in
Dim, through the misty panes and thick green light
As under a green sea, I saw him drowning. his dreams. This could
indicate that he may have post
In all my dreams, before my helpless sight,
Dreams
He plunges at me, guttering, choking, drowning. traumatic stress disorder. He
is cynical on how war is being
If in some smothering dreams you too could pace
Behind the wagon that we flung him in, shown to the youth.
And watch the white eyes writhing in his face,
His hanging face, like a devil's sick of sin;
If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood
Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs,
Obscene as cancer, bitter as the cud
Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues,--
Cynical
My friend, you would not tell with such high zest
To children ardent for some desperate glory,
The old Lie: Dulce et decorum est
Pro patria mori.

3. Dulce Et Decorum Est
Bent double, like old beggars under sacks,
Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge,
Till on the haunting flares we turned our backs
And towards our distant rest began to trudge.
Men marched asleep. Many had lost their boots
But limped on, blood-shod. All went lame; all blind;
Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hoots The poem takes place
Of disappointed shells that dropped behind. during World War I. Gas
GAS! Gas! Quick, boys!-- An ecstasy of fumbling, was used widely. The
Fitting the clumsy helmets just in time; speaker is talking in first
But someone still was yelling out and stumbling
And floundering like a man in fire or lime.-- person. In the plural
Dim, through the misty panes and thick green light form “we” and in the
As under a green sea, I saw him drowning.
singular form “I” in the
In all my dreams, before my helpless sight, last lines of the second
He plunges at me, guttering, choking, drowning.
stanza and the third. He
If in some smothering dreams you too could pace is a first-hand witness.
Behind the wagon that we flung him in,
And watch the white eyes writhing in his face,
His hanging face, like a devil's sick of sin;
If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood
Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs,
Obscene as cancer, bitter as the cud
Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues,--
My friend, you would not tell with such high zest
To children ardent for some desperate glory,
The old Lie: Dulce et decorum est
Pro patria mori.

4. Dulce Et Decorum Est
Bent double, like old beggars under sacks,
Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge,
Till on the haunting flares we turned our backs
And towards our distant rest began to trudge.
Men marched asleep. Many had lost their boots
But limped on, blood-shod. All went lame; all blind;
Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hoots The audience are those
Of disappointed shells that dropped behind. who may believe this lie
GAS! Gas! Quick, boys!-- An ecstasy of fumbling, of war being glorious.
Fitting the clumsy helmets just in time; The speaker tells his
But someone still was yelling out and stumbling
And floundering like a man in fire or lime.-- story in order to
Dim, through the misty panes and thick green light disprove and question
As under a green sea, I saw him drowning.
this.
In all my dreams, before my helpless sight,
He plunges at me, guttering, choking, drowning.
If in some smothering dreams you too could pace
Behind the wagon that we flung him in,
Latin watch the white eyes writhing in his face,
Andfor: “How sweet &
becomingcoulddie for every jolt,sick blood
His hanging face, like a devil's
If you to hear, at one’s the of sin;
country.”
Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs,
Obscene as cancer, bitter as the cud
Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues,--
My friend, you would not tell with such high zest
To children ardent for some desperate glory,
The old Lie: Dulce et decorum est
Pro patria mori.

5. Dulce Et Decorum Est
Bent double, like old beggars under sacks,
Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge,
Till on the haunting flares we turned our backs
And towards our distant rest began to trudge.
Men marched asleep. Many had lost their boots
But limped on, blood-shod. All went lame; all blind; -Body Parts
Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hoots
Of disappointed shells that dropped behind. -Impaired Movement
-Horrifying Actions
GAS! Gas! Quick, boys!-- An ecstasy of fumbling, -Disgusting details
Fitting the clumsy helmets just in time;
But someone still was yelling out and stumbling -Ways to Die
And floundering like a man in fire or lime.-- -Sleep
Dim, through the misty panes and thick green light
As under a green sea, I saw him drowning. -Sight
In all my dreams, before my helpless sight, -Youth
He plunges at me, guttering, choking, drowning.
-Sound
If in some smothering dreams you too could pace -Water
Behind the wagon that we flung him in,
And watch the white eyes writhing in his face, -Dreams
His hanging face, like a devil's sick of sin; -Glory
If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood -Green
Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs,
Obscene as cancer, bitter as the cud -Depressing/Somber
Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues,--
My friend, you would not tell with such high zest
To children ardent for some desperate glory,
The old Lie: Dulce et decorum est
Pro patria mori.

6. Dulce Et Decorum Est
Bent double, like old beggars under sacks,
Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge,
Till on the haunting flares we turned our backs
And towards our distant rest began to trudge.
Men marched asleep. Many had lost their boots The imagery uses the
But limped on, blood-shod. All went lame; all blind; senses to create a full
Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hoots
Of disappointed shells that dropped behind. picture and vicarious
experience.
GAS! Gas! Quick, boys!-- An ecstasy of fumbling,
Fitting the clumsy helmets just in time;
But someone still was yelling out and stumbling
And floundering like a man in fire or lime.--
Dim, through the misty panes and thick green light
As under a green sea, I saw him drowning.
War
In all my dreams, before my helpless sight,
He plunges at me, guttering, choking, drowning.
Sickness
If in some smothering dreams you too could pace
Behind the wagon that we flung him in,
And watch the white eyes writhing in his face, Disappointment/
His hanging face, like a devil's sick of sin; Disenchantment
If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood
Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs,
Obscene as cancer, bitter as the cud
Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues,--
My friend, you would not tell with such high zest
To children ardent for some desperate glory,
The old Lie: Dulce et decorum est
Pro patria mori.

7. The degree of fatigue Et Decorum Est
Dulce
Bent double, like old beggars under sacks,
Journey
Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge,
toward death
Till on the haunting flares we turned our backs
And towards our distant rest began to trudge.
Men marched asleep. Many had lost their boots Similes
But limped on, blood-shod. All went lame; all blind;
Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hoots
Of disappointed shells that dropped behind.
Metaphors
GAS! Gas! Quick, boys!-- An ecstasy of fumbling,
Personification
Eyes beingthestill was yellinggas in stumbling
Fitting
But someone
blindedhelmets just time;
clumsy
by out and
And floundering like a man in fire or lime.--
Dim, through the misty panes and thick green light refers to calcium hydroxide, if ingested
As under a green sea, I saw him drowning.
internal bleeding, skeletal paralysis, …
In all my dreams, before my helpless sight,
He plunges at me, guttering, choking, drowning.
If in some smothering dreams you too could pace
Behind the wagon that we flung him in,
And watch the white eyes writhing in his face,
His hanging face, like a devil's sick of sin;
If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood
Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs,
Obscene as cancer, bitter as the cud
Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues,--
My friend, you would not tell with such high zest
To children ardent for some desperate glory,
The old Lie: Dulce et decorum est
Pro patria mori.

8. Dulce Et Decorum Est
Bent double, like old beggars under sacks,
Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge,
Till on the haunting flares we turned our backs
And towards our distant rest began to trudge.
Men marched asleep. Many had lost their boots
But limped on, blood-shod. All went lame; all blind;
Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hoots A shift occurs here.
Of disappointed shells that dropped behind. The tired, worn out
GAS! Gas! Quick, boys!-- An ecstasy of fumbling,
soldiers quickly
Fitting the clumsy helmets just in time; become enthusiastic &
But someone still was yelling out and stumbling active.
And floundering like a man in fire or lime.--
Dim, through the misty panes and thick green light
As under a green sea, I saw him drowning. This event is very
For the next significant to the speaker. It
several lines the In all my dreams, before my helpless sight, remains engrained in their
first person He plunges at me, guttering, choking, drowning.
singular “I” is mind. It is a frightening,
used.
If in some smothering dreams you too could pace depressing, and traumatic
Behind the wagon that we flung him in, For this line and
And watch the white eyes writhing in his face, the last three
experience. The speaker is
His hanging face, like a devil's sick of sin; lines the second critical on the view of war.
If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood person “you” is
Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs, used. This is to
Obscene as cancer, bitter as the cud have the reader
Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues,-- become
My friend, you would not tell with such high zest attached to the
To children ardent for some desperate glory, poem and
The old Lie: Dulce et decorum est
Pro patria mori. affected by it.

9. Dulce Et Decorum Est
Bent double, like old beggars under sacks,
Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge,
Till on the haunting flares we turned our backs
And towards our distant rest began to trudge.
Men marched asleep. Many had lost their boots The punctuation in this
But limped on, blood-shod. All went lame; all blind; poem is very much like a
Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hoots
Of disappointed shells that dropped behind. narrative. Unlike a lot of
poetry that sounds
GAS! Gas! Quick, boys!-- An ecstasy of fumbling,
Fitting the clumsy helmets just in time; lyrical. Commas and
But someone still was yelling out and stumbling periods are used
And floundering like a man in fire or lime.--
Dim, through the misty panes and thick green light frequently. The poem is
As under a green sea, I saw him drowning. divided into four stanzas.
In all my dreams, before my helpless sight, Exclamations are used in
He plunges at me, guttering, choking, drowning. the second stanza.
If in some smothering dreams you too could pace These exclamations
Behind the wagon that we flung him in, points heighten the shift
And watch the white eyes writhing in his face,
His hanging face, like a devil's sick of sin; in tone from a slow, sad
If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood memoir to an action-
Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs,
Obscene as cancer, bitter as the cud packed violent event.
Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues,--
My friend, you would not tell with such high zest
To children ardent for some desperate glory,
The old Lie: Dulce et decorum est
Pro patria mori.

10. Dulce Et Decorum Est
Bent double, like old beggars under sacks,
Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge,
Till on the haunting flares we turned our backs
And towards our distant rest began to trudge.
Men marched asleep. Many had lost their boots 1 The poem is divided into
But limped on, blood-shod. All went lame; all blind; four un-even stanzas.
Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hoots
Of disappointed shells that dropped behind. End rhyme is exhibited. It
is in an ABAB, CDCD,
GAS! Gas! Quick, boys!-- An ecstasy of fumbling,
Fitting the clumsy helmets just in time; etc. pattern. The poem
But someone still was yelling out and stumbling does not follow iambic
And floundering like a man in fire or lime.-- 2
Dim, through the misty panes and thick green light pentameter. Though it
As under a green sea, I saw him drowning. rhymes, it is not lyrical.
In all my dreams, before my helpless sight, This could refer to the
He plunges at me, guttering, choking, drowning.
3 content. War is not like
If in some smothering dreams you too could pace music. It isn’t beautiful.
Behind the wagon that we flung him in,
And watch the white eyes writhing in his face,
His hanging face, like a devil's sick of sin;
If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood
Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs,
Obscene as cancer, bitter as the cud
4
Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues,--
My friend, you would not tell with such high zest
To children ardent for some desperate glory,
The old Lie: Dulce et decorum est
Pro patria mori.

11. The purpose is to show the
speaker’s reality of war. It is to
show the youth that it is not a
romantic tale of heroism to be in
war. It is a gruesome, tragic
experience that will never go away.
The glory earned in war comes at a
tremendous price.