It seems somehow strange to call the First World War the Great War as though somehow we are enhancing its value, giving it a place in all the follies and mistakes of mankind above its station of destruction. But in terms of misery, carnage and slaughter it was, at the time, the single bloodiest sustained period of annihilation of nation upon nation, army upon army, man upon man by some distance. And whilst in the end the gains politically were nowhere near the losses of men it did bring forth a closer and better understanding of how artists view these events. Writers, painter, and here poets, share their words with us and though we are by their side. Much of the poetry is personal and moving and together they speak that a better human existence is wanted by all.
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