Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1915-07-13

|
music-and the empty stage with its
tawdry drop curtain still caught the
eye at the farther end. Now it was
filed with beds-fifty-nin beds-and
by each bed stood man in a hospital
uniform of bed ticking. They seemed
plump enough. though pale. as be-
| comes convalescents.
"All wounded prisoners" said the
our party. He spoke excellent Eng
! lish, and liked to talk about New York
| "All French and Russian. Is 1t not so?
! Surgeon Christen shook his head.
| There is one Englishman here,
said he.
Loneliest Man in Germany.
| And so we found the loneliest man in
Germany. He was standing by his bed
on the farther side of the room-a tall
pale, fair-haired boy, with his right
arm in sling-and smiling in a very
agony of hope. We could not have
read his name. scrawled on the little
! blackboard at the head of his bed. 1t
might have been Russky or Jacques
| for all we could tell. He could not
| have addressed us. Military discipline
| forbade, and Jones is very much a SOL
der. 1t was only that chance question
i that found him for us.
Il am very glad you came" said he
pathetically. Il 'avent card English
| spoken since / was it at Mons"
We thrust questions at him eagerly.
His plight seemed very pitiful to us.
There he was, marooned upon little
pinnacle of English in sea of French
and German and Russian words. He
had absolutely no one to talk to- He
had nothing to read. He had no knowl-
edge of the progress of the war. Once
two and forty days ago"-he had re-
ceived a letter from his relatives in
America. That letter had been his
stay and consolation. He had read it
and reread it until it had dropped to
bits. He still read at the pieces. He
'oped, he said, to get another letter
soon- He did not expect to get a letter
from England. He had no relatives
there.
would care to write to me-" he said,
simply.
Satisfied With His Treatment.
He had learned little German,
enough to answer the surgeons ques.
tons and report upon new symptoms
So much had been thrust upon him.
He had also taken in few words
of 1.-The Trenches gibberish," and a
smaller number of Russian words. But
not many. One could understand why,
in looking about this room at the
patient, saddened faces of the wound
ed men. For the most part they were
dwelling with their memories and their
fe>rs. They would talk very little. A
social nerve had been deadened in
them Only an aroused hope could have
quickened them to interest.
How are you being treated?" some
one snapped in.
quite nicely" said he, in his soft,
grave, pleasantly modulated English
voice. He should be private secre-
tary instead of a private soldier in the
Cheshire regiment. That voice puts
him on confidential terms with YOU at
once. 1t is not resonant and depress-
ing enough for butler.
Maj. Christen thinks he can save my
arm" he added.
Surgeon Christen came up. It was
Immediately apparent that Jones is a
case" TO him and not prisoner. He
went into elaborate technical details
of the manner in which the bone had
been fractured and the early mistakes
which had been made in it's treatment.
Three operations had been performed
and only Christens opposition saved
it to Jones. Now-in a few weeks
it will be quite strong
Can we photograph him." we asked.
Denied Photo Privilege.
| Christen said yes. He would be glad
| to have him photographed He wanted
the world to know that English pris-
| oners were well treated in German hos.
pitfalls. Jones' face frightened. One
could see that the memory of This day
| of these strangers who spoke Eng
| lish and would photograph him-would
| be something for him to remember
happily for weeks to come. We asked
Jones if he would consent to be pho
| tographed.
"oh-gladIy." said he. with the sus-
| picion of catch in his vote He
started to walk toward the garden
But the pleasant lieutenant had be-
| come visibly less pleasant as he OBJ
served our interest in Jones. He still
smiled and he still spoke with perfect
| courtesy. But his face was stiffening
Perhaps he resented our attitude. Per-
haps he was only literal-minded and
| regarded Jones as a military secret
He had forbidden our photographing a
regiment on foot-hardening march
through Lubecks prosaic streets.
You must not" said he. 1T is not
| allowed"
| Poor Jones looked heart broken. Sur
| geon Christen seemed surprised We
/ began protest. The lieutenant's face
suddenly set in hard lines. He held
up hand. palm toward US.
| No said he. No
| We began to talk fast. 1t became
u
| growing short. Perhaps Jones could
| have remembered more we wanted to
! know il he could have sat down some
/ where with 4 pot of English beer. But
! his memory of that fight at Mons was
! blurred. 80 many things ave 'appened
since. he said in apology.
Charge of the Cheshires.
| The Cheshires had marched aImos
night and day. They had heard CUR
| firing ahead. Some of their men hat
been killed. Most of the Cheshires saw
| their dead for the first time. The.
were bit nervous and shaky. but they
kept going on. They got a chance t.
fire at the enemy. That helped to brace
them up. Then they were ordered Il
charge.
1T was on the four-and-twentieth o
| August" said Jones in his quaint dia
| lect. 1t made one think of Robinson
| Crusoe. Jones said he lived in Eng
| land at Ashton under-Lyne, six mile
from Manchester. He could not re
| member much OF the charge. He hat
not thought much at the time. He saw
great many Germans ahead and tn,
| cheshires went forward at the double
cheering. Then shell fragment tool
| him in the shoulder and he dropped
The Cheshires were driven back owe
| the ground. That night the German
sent him to their hospitals in the rear
Il went to 'orspital in Belgium,
said he. bitterly. where they said the,