Connecticut western news., 1915-09-16
FIRING LINE
 IF CIVILIZATION"
Describes Ruined Country and Sensations as the Shells
 Whistle By.
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] l ] Other mon appeared moving toward Us with that concentration of purpose and bearing shown in both armies , when dinner is at hand. They looked like people who had been digging hard. "The same work. always the same work" the officer said "and you could walk from here to the sea or to Switz- erland in that ditch, and you'll find the same work going on everywhere"
 "It isn't war: it's better than that" said another; its the eating up of n people. They come and they fill tho trenches, and they die. and they send more and these die. We do the same. of course. but look!'
 He pointed to the large deliberate smoke heaSs renewing themselves along the yellowed beach.
 That is the frontier of civilization. They have all civilization against then those brutes wonder. It's not the To cal victories of the old wars that were after. It's the barbarians. all the bar. barians. Now. you've seen the whole thing in little. Come and look at oar children
 We left that tall tree whose fruits are death. ripened and distributed at the tinkle of small bells. The observer returned to his maps and calculations. the telephone boy stiffened up beside his exchange. As the amateurs went out of his life some one called down through the branches to ask who was attending to Belial, let us sny, for could not catch the guns name. Ii seemed to belong to that terrific new voice which had lifted itself for the sec. ond or third time. It appeared from the reply that if Belial talked too long he would be dealt with from another point miles away.
 The troops we came down to see were at rest in Il chain of caves which had begun life as quarries and had been fitted up by the army for its own uses. There were underground corri- dorS. antechnmbers, rotundas and ven. tilating shafts, with a bewildering play of cross lights, so that wherever you looked you saw Goya's pictures of men at arms. Every soldier has some of the old maid in him and rejoices in all the little gadgets and devices of his own invention. Death and wounding come by nature. but to lie dry. sleep soft and keep yourself clean by fore thought and contrivance is art, and in all things the Frenchman is gloriously an artist.
 All Welded In One Furnace.
 Moreover, the French officers seem as mothers. keen on their men, as their men are brothers, fond of them. May be the possessive form of address, Mon general, mon capitaine," helps the idea which our men cloak in other and curter phrases, and those soldiers, like ours, had been welded for months in one furnace. AS an officer said: Half our orders now need not be giv en. Experience makes us think to- gether."
 I believe, too, that if q French pri- vate has an idea-and they are full of ideas-it reaches his commanding off cer quicker than 1t does with us. The sentinel hounds. The overwhelming impression was the brilliant health and vitality of these men and the quality of their breeding. They bore them selves with swing and rampant delight in life, while their voices as they talk ed in the side caverns among the stands of arms were the controlled voices of civilization. Yet as the lights pierced the gloom they looked like bandits dividing the spoil.
 One picture, though far from war. stays with me. A perfectly built, dark skinned young giant had peeled him. self out of his blue coat and had brought it down with q swish upon the shoulder of half stripped comrade who was kneeling at his feet busy with some footgear. They stood | against n background of semiluminous l blue haze. through which glimmered a | pile of coppery straw half covered by 1 a red blanket. By divine accident of | light and pose it was St. Martin giv- l ing his cloak to the beggar There | were scores of pictures in these gal l leries. notably q rock hewn chapel. | where the red of the cross on the i rough canvas altar cloth glowed like l a ruby.
 Dogs Mount Guard.
 Farther inside the caves We found row of little rock cut kennels. each in ! habited by one wise, silent dog. Their | duties begin at night with the sentinels 1 and listening posts. And believe me-" said q proud instructor, my fellow here knows the difference between the noise of our shells and the bocheS' shells"
 When We came out into the open again there were good opportunities for this study. Voices and wings met and . passed in the air and perhaps one strong young tree had not been bending quite so far across the picturesque park drive when we first went that way.
 'Qh, yes," said m officer, shells have to ran somewhere, and" he added wfth | fine federation, 'it Is, after all, agalnst bot q