Owen enlists in the military and is commissioned as a second lieutenant in the Manchester Regiment.

Owen is diagnosed with shell shock after witnessing comrades die and is sent to Craiglockhart War Hospital.

Siegfried Sassoon arrives at Craiglockhart and begins reading, editing, and encouraging Owen's poetry.

Owen writes 'Dulce et Decorum Est' while recovering at Craiglockhart War Hospital.

Soldiers march wearily after battle, bent double like old beggars and coughing like hags.

Men march asleep, many having lost their boots and limping on blood-shod feet.

Soldiers grow so deaf with fatigue they fail to notice gas shells dropping softly behind them.

A gas alarm is shouted and soldiers frantically fumble to fit their clumsy gas helmets just in time.

One soldier fails to secure his gas mask in time and is left exposed to the toxic cloud.

The unprotected soldier collapses as the green gas fills and destroys his lungs.

The speaker watches the dying soldier appear to drown as if under a green sea, powerless to help.

The dying soldier is flung into a wagon, where blood gurgles from his froth-corrupted lungs.

The speaker directly addresses those who glorify war by telling children of its desperate glory.

The speaker labels 'dulce et decorum est pro patria mori' the old Lie not worth passing on.

Owen is killed in action just before the Armistice, and his Poems are published posthumously to wide acclaim.

Wilfred Owen enlists and is deployed to the Western Front, where the brutal realities of industrial warfare bear no resemblance to the patriotic glory promised at home. Suffering from shell shock, Owen is sent to Craiglockhart War Hospital, where poet Siegfried Sassoon arrives and encourages Owen to channel his trauma into verse. Owen composes 'Dulce et Decorum Est,' opening with exhausted soldiers trudging through mud after battle, too fatigued to notice gas shells falling behind them. A sudden gas alarm throws the men into a frantic scramble for their masks, but one soldier fails to secure his in time and is left to suffocate in the green cloud. The speaker watches helplessly as the dying man is flung into a wagon, his lungs destroyed, his body a testament to the obscene cost of war. The poem closes with a fierce condemnation of those who feed young people the old lie that it is sweet and fitting to die for one's country — a lie Owen would not live to see fully challenged, as he was killed in action just before the war ended.

The core narrative of war's horror and the old lie exposed.

Owen befriends the elderly pacifist poet Laurent Tailhade while working as a private tutor in Bordeaux.

The assassination of Archduke Franz Ferdinand in Sarajevo triggers the outbreak of World War I.

Owen considers joining the French army but ultimately returns to England to enlist instead.

Owen is concussed by a shell explosion during winter fighting on the Western Front.

Owen nearly freezes to death after being trapped overnight in a snow-covered field during the war.

Owen is caught in a shell blast that kills most of his fellow officers around him.

Owen edits the Craiglockhart hospital journal, The Hydra, at his doctor's encouragement during recovery.

Soldiers curse through the sludge and cough like hags as they trudge away from the day's battle.

Soldiers turn their backs on haunting flares and begin a long trudge toward distant rest.

The gassed soldier yells and stumbles, floundering helplessly like a man in fire or lime.

The dying soldier's face hangs slack in the wagon, described as a devil's sick of sin.

Blood comes gargling from the soldier's froth-corrupted lungs at every jolt of the cart.

The speaker describes vile, incurable sores from the gas burning the soldier's innocent tongue.

A publishing company expresses interest in Owen's poetry manuscript before he returns to active duty.

Owen's posthumous collection Poems, edited by Sassoon, earns him lasting fame as a great war poet.

Before the war, Owen traveled to Bordeaux and befriended the elderly pacifist poet Laurent Tailhade, who nurtured his literary ambitions — a friendship that shaped his anti-war sensibility. The assassination of Archduke Franz Ferdinand pulled Europe into conflict and eventually drew Owen back to England to enlist, though he first considered joining the French army. On the battlefield, Owen endured a series of devastating traumas — a shell concussion, near-freezing in a snow-covered field, and a blast that killed most of his fellow officers — before being sent to recover at Craiglockhart, where he edited the hospital journal The Hydra. Inside the poem, the soldiers are shown in vivid physical degradation before the gas attack even begins, cursing through sludge and turning their backs on haunting flares as they seek any rest. The gassed soldier's death is rendered in harrowing detail: his floundering, his slack face like a devil's sick of sin, the blood gargling from his ruined lungs at every jolt of the wagon. Owen's manuscript attracted a publisher's attention before his final return to duty, but he would not live to see its release — leaving Sassoon to edit and champion the collection that would secure Owen's legacy.

Owen's battlefield journey and the gassed soldier's gruesome suffering.

Owen begins writing poetry in his late teens and aspires to become a published poet.

Owen's work as a Vicar's assistant causes him to question the church's ability to help those in need.

Jessie Pope publishes popular pro-war verse comparing enlistment to a game and urging young men to serve.

Owen witnesses friends and fellow soldiers die repeatedly across his months of active combat.

Owen and Sassoon bond at Craiglockhart over psychoanalysis and the value of writing honestly about war trauma.

Owen originally dedicates the poem sarcastically and directly to the pro-war poet Jessie Pope.

Owen edits out the specific dedication to Pope, widening the poem's condemnation to all who glorify war.

The soldiers grow so fatigued they march as if sleepwalking, losing all awareness of the danger behind them.

The gassed soldier's white eyes writhe in his slack and hanging face as he dies in the wagon.

The speaker's recurring nightmares force him to relive the dying soldier's guttering and choking over and over.

The speaker urges readers to imagine pacing behind the wagon that carries the slowly dying man.

The speaker argues that any witness to such a death would never again repeat the old Lie to children.

Owen grows increasingly distressed by wartime propaganda but feels duty-bound to return to the front.

Owen conceals his return to active duty from Sassoon and secretly ships out to France.

Owen is killed in action exactly one week before the Armistice is signed, ending the war.

Owen's path from aspiring teenage poet to battlefield witness began with small but significant turns: a crisis of faith during his time as a Vicar's assistant, and the encouragement of a French pacifist who saw his literary potential. Meanwhile, poets like Jessie Pope were publishing cheerful, game-like verses urging young men toward enlistment — the precise cultural enemy Owen's poem would eventually confront. When Owen composed 'Dulce et Decorum Est,' he initially aimed it directly at Pope, a satirical dedication that he later removed in favor of a wider condemnation of all who glorify war's sacrifice. At Craiglockhart, Owen and Sassoon bonded over psychoanalysis and the idea that writing truthfully about trauma could process and expose it — a conviction that shaped the poem's unflinching imagery. Inside the poem, the speaker's most devastating revelation is that the soldier's death does not end with his body: it lives on as a recurring nightmare, the dead man plunging toward the speaker again and again in helpless dreams. Owen's final turning point came when he chose to return to the front despite his distress, hiding his departure even from Sassoon — a decision that led directly to his death one week before the war's end.