Dying Soldier

[Delta40]

Sacrificed blood in victory abounds
here, upon deaths battlefied.
Were dust a comfort to the mighty fallen!
I pray lips will speak of my famed glory.
Water's sparse ration commends my soul.
Let wars be praised in memory
by those soldiers of wondrous worth.
Their necessity now is much greater
than mine

[PrinceMyshkin]

I'm not sure I perfectly understand


Water's sparse ration commends my soul.

but I intuit the bitter irony in it, and in this poem as a whole. It reminded me somewhat of a WWI poem that, I believe, contains the phrase Ave atque vale.

[Delta40]

I will edit it. I am struggling to find a way to write how the dying soldier passes his ration of water to the living soldier.