The Daytona daily news. [volume] (Daytona, Fla.) 1903-1926, 1915-01-06
BY MAURICE BARREs Of the French
Academy.

about to press the hands Of our sol.
diers through the shelters flanking the
hill, where they came every three days
to lie. And then, after had seen
little teasing of the Prussians, ! was
led into a little wood, 800 meters dis
tant from their line. One of them
was stationed in advance, standing be-
tween two apple trees. We looked
at him. He gazed back at us. And
no one on either side moved.
Twilight was descending. Between
that man and us lay the bodies of dead
men which could not be gathered up.
/ shall never forget the sinister spot.
and the harmony between living be-
ings and landscape. Is it possible that
our rich plains have come to such
desolation; that the best, morally and
physically, of France, are hidden in
these kennels of beasts, and that ideas
of hate and Of death alone occupy the
minds Of the millions Of individuals
who face each other along this i'm
mense line of battle? OF what dreams
that Prussian before me, as he
watches me through the mist of eve
ming? He thinks of annihilating me,
and I, in the same way. think of de-
stroying him. These are circum-
stances in which the most particular
spirit loses its identity in all the
others, in which no soul is kept apart.
That duty is evident. certain. But
how deep do its roots strike down into
darkness!
Facts and Mysteries.
In vain did my companion--no one
better experienced in the affairs of
this war-continue to give me interest
ing details by the thousand. Behind
the facts there raises itself a barrier
OF mystery. And while we went back
through the stretch Of country to
which this campaign has come, new
er ceased to ponder upon it.
From time to time we came upon
people of our side, cooking in the lit
tie hollows Of the plain. They were
laughing, chatting among themselves,
Then we went on again into the ST.
lence and into the thickening night.
That ending of our visit to the ad-
vance posts resembled a return or
late hunters in autumn but mingled
with it was an extraordinary disquiet
of heart. Never have ! known such
a vital feeling of brotherhood as on
that Journey; never a more profound
sense of the mystery in which our ex-
istence is bathed.
All around us now there reigned I'M
imaginable silence, and one distln'
guished objects SO PAGES away with
difficulty.
BE CAREFUL" said my companion
to me. You have the river on your
left"
We arrived finally at point where
the plain is cut away abruptly into
a deep valley, and leaning over. saw
far below me, at the foot of the GIN
on which we stood, little pools still
beneath tall poplars. Their waters
shone with a sinister light through
the riffs OF a shroud Of fog. Mourn1ui
vapors rose and grouped themselves
In great moving masses.
There" | said, lis the kingdom OF
desolation."
Wounded Man on the Marshes.
During five days we had seen and
had listened to wounded German
whom no one could relieve. lie was
one of a patrol upon which we nred
His comrades had saved themselves
without a thought OF carrying MIN
with them. The poor devil lay there
with broken thigh. AS you can see
it was not easy to go hunting for him
in those ravines and concealed
marshes At last. on the fifth day, we
were able to carry him to our ampu
lance, where he died. thanking us.
You will be interested, ! believe, IN
the emotions which animated that Ger
man. wounded and abandoned.
What emotions?
Very subtle and quite beautiiui.
One hour afterward, when we had
arrived at our quarters, and, before
everything else, even before ! had rid
myself OF my uniform and OF the
mud which stained me to the shoul'
ders. | asked my friendly guide 70
mark our course for me on chart
and then to give me the last message
of the Prussian OF the marshes.
The Letter Of Farewell.
Here is the page upon which are
/ mingled, in startling manner, the
mists of Germany and of the French
valley. which he with his companions
came to desolate. | have changed notn
ing have transcribed exactly the
final written pages Of the little note
book which he carried in his pocket
/ IF that be the will of the All-Po"er'
fu' lot this be my last farewell
French ball struck me while on patroi
II wounded me in the right knee III
1 such a way that can no longer walk
Il is now five days that ! have been
in this obscure forest. ! can no longer
! endure my hunger, which up to no"
have appeased with water, OFTEN
have implored God to send me ald
None has come to this hour. Mean
while, | rest resigned; | am not lmpa
tient, because it is not for long. Then
shall be again in my Fatherland. al