Eaton weekly Democrat. [volume] (Eaton, Ohio) 1866-1875, 1871-06-08

| they, rather than the fighting men,
should pick up the wounded and bear
| them to the rear. In every battle, the
| field hospital of division was to be no
| farther distant than two Thousand
PAGES from the line of battle, that the
wounded might be transported there as
| quickly as possible, and with as little
| suffering as the nature of their wounds
| would admit. And to this end the San
| itary Corps was regularly instructed and
| drilled in the art of quickly and tender
ly transporting tn ,ir charges to the am
| bulance hospitals, which occasionally
CHANGED to be in neighboring village.
| Every available place is crowded /;
mansions, cabins, barns, and at last the
| open streets. AS the wounded arrive
| on stretchers, the busy surgeons assign
| them places according to the severity of
| their wounds; some need immediate at
| tention to save them from death, while
| others can more easily wait till the am
bulance wagons convey them to the
more distant stationary hospital. Not a
| few die on their way from the field, and
some are even hit by stray or vicious
| bullets on their way to relief; and thus
occasionally even the members of the
corps lose their lives While in the per-
formance of duty.
The Red Cross knows no foes and dis
tinguishes no nationality mission is
to humanity, and therefore even the
bitterest enemies are kindly brought to
| the ambulance for treatment; it is not
| seldom you will see the savage Turco
| beside the German soldier, and the
| French receiving attention at the hands
of Sister of Charity. The Red Cross
! knows neither sex nor age in its ranks,
| for many women and children even bear
| its white band in the numerous hospitals
extending from the battlefields of France
\ to the military centers and prison camps
| of Germany.
| And this war has been great triumph
| for German womanhood, from the
| throne to the cabin. Thousands of de-
| voted women have given all their time
and strength to the care of the wound
| ed at home, and many have gone, Under
| the protection of the banner of the Red
| Cross, to distant battle-felds, and been
| the solace of the sick and the comfort
ers of the dying. It<equired contest
| to make old soldiers believe this thing
| feasible or advisable, but the calmness
and efficiency of the hospitals under
| the direction of women, and the inf1u-
ence of their presence among the sick
and dying, have gained them many
| friends among the early doubters. And
all who have experienced the horrors of
a military hospital know that it requires
no less heroism to perform all ones
| duty here than on the fields of strife.
The only wonder is how so many deli
| cate and sensible women have been able
| to pass through scenes so trying, and
bear such fearful trials as many of those
have done who have faithfully served
| their country under the banner of the
Red Cross.
And now comes a scene where all is
shadow,-dark to blackness,- fifty SYM
bolized by the Black Cross, which is
placed over every German soldiers
grave. Too many, alas receive this
| distinction, and it is very often con-
ferred with heartfelt tears and regrets
| of surviving comrades and friends. AT
ter great battle scores of fallen braves
need, in the hurry of the hour, to be
consigned to a common grave, and re-
ceive common cross. Their compan-
ions endeavor to accord to all this honor,
| as also that of attendance with the deep
| roll of the drums in the last sad funeral
march.
But occasionally death calls to his
ranks one that is more than usually
| loved. He was the pride of his family
and the favorite of his men, who are
now, under the banner of the Red Cross,
| silently bringing him to his last resting
place. His code was devotion to duty,
and his fortune loyalty to his country,
and he would willingly have given his
life for the poorest of his friends. In
| the presence of human suffering he was
| the tenderest of all, but on the battle
| field he was the bravest.
His battalion was making an assault
with the bayonet, with his tall and slen-
| der form in the advance. His helmet
and mantle are already torn by bullets,
| and he and his are surrounded by a
band of maddened Zouaves IN the very
act of protecting one of his men from a
fatal thrust, he falls with deadly bull
let in his heart, and it stands still in
death. All that a brother can do is to
rescue the corpse from the scene of con.
Aict, and when this was over the sol
| diers bore it to the best house in the
village, and gathered flowers from al
| the gardens to beautify it for the grave
For time the bronzed warriors stood
weeping around it, and then bore il
forth to its cool resting place within
sight of the walls of Paris and the smoke
of the roaring cannon.
His grave is dug in silence and in
tears, and a short sermon is preached
by the chaplain. This reaches the
hearts of his men, and draws IRON
many of them-the sobs of children
mingled with the vows of soldiers tina
his example shall not be lost on them
And when the good man closes will
the sad though cheering words, "Peac,
, be unto thee ~ the weary warrior
around the grave respond, with the ar
dent heart-wish that peace may soon b.
accorded to all the living as to the dead
and to the end that such sacrifices ma,
cease to be demanded on the altar o
the country.
When the dull earth is rolled upol
the coffin, his comrades tarry to plac
, the Black Cross on the grave, and re
, lieve it with garlands of flowers. Blu
the fate of war may soon carry all thes
away, for foreign soil will grant no mon
ument to the fallen foe. But aroun'
the camp fire his soldiers will continu
, to talk of his devotion to them and t
duty, and will carry home to his mourn
ing ones a lasting monument in thei
hearts that will assuage the pangs {
, wife or mother. The Fatherland no.
accords a common honor to all, whethe
they return with the Iron Cross on tn
breast, have faithfully served under tn
folds of the Red Cross, or lie beneat
= the mound marked by the Black Cross
To all it says: Well doneI Peace b
| ~;