The Medina sentinel. [volume] (Medina, Ohio) 1888-1961, 1914-11-06


Hugging the cover of the ridge OF
fresh earth which they had thrown up
the previous night, they watched the
white posts. Stransky, who had been
ruminatively silent all the morning,
was in his place, but he was not look
ing at the enemy. Cautiously, to avoid
a reprimand, he raised his head to en-
able him to glance along the line. All
the faces seemed drawn and clayish.
"They don't want to fight! They're |
just here because they're ordered here
and haven't the character to defy au-
thority," he thought. "The leaven is
working! My timo is coming!"
For Dellarme the minute had come
when all his training was to be put to
a test. The figures on the other side c.
the white posts were rising. He was to
prove by the way he directed 6. COM
pany Of infantry in action whether CT
not he was worthy Of his captains
rank. He smiled cheerily. In order
that he might watch how each man
used his rife, he drew back Of the line.
his slim body erect as he rested on
one knee, his head level with the
other heads while he fingered his
whistle. The instant that Eugene
Aronson sprang over the white post
blast from the whistle began the
war.
1t was a signal, too, for Stransky
to play the part he had planned; to
make the speech Of his life. His six
feet Of stature shot to its feet with
Jack-in-the-box abruptness, under
the impulse Of a mighty and reckless
passion.
''Men, stop firing!" he howled thun-
derously. "Stop firing on your broth
ers! Like you, they are only the
pawns of the ruling class, who keep
US all pawns in order that they may
have champagne and caviare. Com
rades, I'll lead you! Comrades, we'll
take white flag and go down to meet
DUR comrades and we'll find that they
think as we do! I'll lead you!"
The appeal was drowned in the
cracking of the rifles working as regu-
larly as punching-machines in a fac
tory. Every soldier was seeing only
his sight and the running figures un
| der it. Mechanically and automatical
ly, training had been projected into
action, anticipation into realization. A
spectator might as well have called tc
a man in a hundred-yard dash to stor
running, to an oarsman in a race tt
jump out of his shell.
The company sergeant sprang fol
Stransky with an oath. But stransk!
was in no mood to submit. He felle(
the sergeant with a blow and, reck
lessly defiant, stared at Dellarme
while the men, steadily firing, wer
, still oblivious Of the scene. The Sci
, geant, stunned, rose to his knees an
reached for his revolver. Dellarme
, bent over to keep his head below tn
> crest, had already drawn his as h
= hastened toward them.
A "Will you get down? Will you TAX
( your place with your rihe?" demande
Q Dellarme.
Stransky laughed thunderously |
n scorn. He was handsome, titanic, an
n barbaric, with his huge shoulder
}. stretching his blouse, which fell loos
p ly around his narrow hips, while tt
Z! fist that had felled the sergeant wa
o still clenched.
+! "No!" said Stransky. "You won
/! kill much If you kill me and you'd Xxi
less If you shot yourself! God A
n mighty! Do you think I'm afraid? N
o -afraid?"
n His eyes in a bloodshot glare, {
h incorporating as those Of bull
e an arena watching the next move
!. the red cape Of the matador, regarde
n Dellarme, who hesitated in admiratiC
6 Of the picture Of human force befol
n him. But the old sergeant, smartir
Vt under the insult Of the blow, his san
o stone features mottled with re
patches, had no compunctions of tn
order. He was ready to act as exec
toner.
"If you don't want to shoot, l Cal
An example-the law! There's I
other way Of dealing with him! Civ
: the world" he said to Dellarme.
:. Stransky laughed. now IN stridel
cynicism. Dellarme still hesitate
recollecting Lanstron's remark. +
pictured Stransky in last stand in
> redoubt, and every soldier was
precious to him as piece Of gold
a miser.
zone ought to be enough to kill n
1 if you're going to do 1t to slow music
8 said Stransky. "You might as w
s kill me as the poor fools that yo
poor fools are trying to"
Another breath finished the speecI
breath released from ball tn
seemed to have come straight fro
hell. The fire control officer Of re-
ment Of Gray artillery on the plai
S scanning the landscape for the orig
y of the rifle-fire which was leavi
= many fallen in the wake of the char
NJ of the Gray infantry, had seen figu
W on the knoll. "How kind! THAI
you'll" his thought spoke faster TIL
!. words. No need Of range-fndin
n The range to every possible bate
N or infantry position around La
E | ,-,on olraodxy vlyad IN bic mon