Willmar tribune. [volume] (Willmar, Minn.) 1895-1931, 1906-05-23
What sublime Quietness!

What sublime quietness!
The birds song, hushed above the
nest where the mother broods her eggs
of promise; the sheep, doing in the
shade so quietly that even the tiny
bell is silent; the farm horse, softly
browsing; his master, resting beside
the pillow which hour after hour has
been turning the brown earth over
into the sunlight-all these make up
a picture whose background, as far
as eye can reach, is panorama of
peace, plenty and contentment.
Can 1t be possible that here-are
these memories, boundless deep, which
sweep across me like a surging food.
merely the torturing dreams of a
fever-racked brain?
But no. All around me are abun-
dant proofs. The outline of the old
fort is still visible, and in fact I won
der that time has wrought so little
change. l now recognize many ia
miliar objects. The then solitary tree
is still standing, but a wound made
in its trunk by vicious shell has
never healed, and is now fastening its
decay.
Old oak, I greet thee as a comrade
in arms! when last we met thou didst
stand sole monarch of the field; but
the fort, the parapets and the slopes
where Quiyering mortals poured out
their life-blood. Their heads, dwarf
ing thine, drink in the first rays Of
morning and reflect the last kiss of
parting day. But thou-feeble and
lettering old veteran-the next rude
blast will lay thee low, and thou shalt
IN time take on new forms of life.
Like thee, old comrade, I also await
not death only, but a glorious transit
ton
Yonder, half way down the slope,
nearly buried in earth, also discern
huge, shapeless mass of iron. Dumb
witness of bloody past, it is all that
remains of monster gun whose voice
made the trees tremble. In the last
hour Of horror. overworked, triple.
charged, 1t exploded, hurting a score
of men into eternity.
This memory, then, is no mere
dream. This panorama Of peace be-
fore me has dark background OF
graves.
Through yonder field of waving
corn, from the mile-distant wood, with
pick and shovel, by ditch and trench,
inch by inch, we worked our tedious,
tortuous way. Day and night we were
logged by the messengers of death.
Each step was gained at the price of
some brave life. Yet the work was
pushed steadily on. We were there to
do, to dare, to endure, but not to fall
ter In nations redemption strug-
gle men can afford to die, but cannot
afford to be found wanting. When
a comrade fell wounded, we cared for
him with such kindness as the circum-
stances permitted; if he, was killed,
wrapped in his blanket we buried him,
while with the rough sleeve of a
soldiers coat we wiped the tears away
and pushed ever onward.
AS I gaze spellbound, l wonder-I
can never cease to Wonderland we
did not fail. 1t required men with
nerves of steel and hearts of oak, re-
enforced by the inspiration that back
OF us was our country, and above was
God. 1t required these, and all these,
to make victory possible. =.
For there. in the fort before US,
were Americans, and none but Ameri.
cans could have taken it, Our foes
were never tired, their vigilance never
relaxed, their courage was sublime.
And while we believed them entirely
and eternally wrong. they fought as
1t is only possible for men to fight
who believe they are entirely and eter-
nally right
1t was their fierce determination to
hold the fort OF die in it. With great
guns and small, by night and by day,
they hurled upon our heads tempest
of death. While this delayed, it could
not prevent our advance. The prog
ress was slow, but it was ceaseless.
Each minute in the day, each minute
In the night, we were digging nearer,
ever nearer, to the foe.
At last the point was reached where
the work must be completed by an act
of extreme desperation-we must
charge the fort.
Between the trench in which we
were concealed and the coveted prize
was a space of about 500 feet, filed
with every sort of obstruction which
cunning, desperate men could devise
In part this consisted Of stout stakes
driven firmly into the ground at an
angle pointing towards us, and sharp
ened. These were so thick and close
that we could not pass between them
and were too strong to be easily
broken. II there was spot anywhere
affording the least protection from the
leaden storm, it was planted thick
with torpedoes. 1t was through and
over such distractions that we must
force our way while the guns of thu
fort would be flashing on us floods Of
death.