I’ve been reconnecting lately with friends who were resisters to the war in Vietnam, some as organizers, some who went to prison, some who won conscientious objector status from the US military.  And in that reconnecting I’ve been reading much — to come across this stunning ee cummings poem from WW I which I had unaccountably missed in those years. 

i sing of Olaf glad and big

whose warmest heart recoiled at war:
a conscientious object-or

his wellbelovéd colonel (trig
westpointer most succinctly bred)
took erring Olaf soon in hand;
but—though an host of overjoyed
noncoms (first knocking on the head
him) do through icy waters roll
that helplessness which others stroke
with brushes recently employed
anent this muddy toiletbowl,
while kindred intellects evoke
allegiance per blunt instruments—
Olaf (being to all intents
a corpse and wanting any rag
upon what God unto him gave)
responds, without getting annoyed
“I will not kiss your f.ing flag”

straightaway the silver bird looked grave
(departing hurriedly to shave)

but-though all kinds of officers
(a yearning nation’s blueeyed pride)
their passive prey did kick and curse
until for wear their clarion
voices and boots were much the worse,
and egged the firstclassprivates on
his rectum wickedly to tease
by means of skillfully applied
bayonets roasted hot with heat—
Olaf (upon what were once knees)
does almost ceaselessly repeat
“there is some s. I will not eat”

our president,being of which
assertions duly notified
threw the yellowsonofabitch
into a dungeon,where he died

Christ (of His mercy infinite)
i pray to see;and Olaf,too

preponderatingly because
unless statistics lie he was
more brave than me:more blond than you

-e.e. Cummings

A pretty good reading of olaf, here

Cummings himself was thrown in a military prison in France where he was held for ‘espionage’ and related crimes for 3 1/2 months.  His book The Enormous Room came out of this experience