An old soldier admits something uncomfortable in the very first line: "I miss the war." There's no explanation and no apology, which makes the confession feel blunt and honest. The speaker then remembers the officers and friends of his past, who "sang songs / and then went away." The image is gentle, almost cheerful, yet the phrase "went away" is vague enough to cover death, distance, or simply the passing of time. He doesn't say which, and that silence is part of the sadness.
What he seems to miss is less the fighting than the company, the singing, the sense of belonging. Now he is alone. The final lines, "And night came / to wash me clean," shift the mood toward something quieter. Night might bring sleep, forgetting, or even death, and the word "clean" suggests a wish to be relieved of memory or guilt. The poem is short and spare, and its tone is wistful, tired, and tender, with loss sitting just beneath the calm surface.