The Irish standard., 1915-07-17
oopyrieht, Tredeeiok a. etokes 0ompaoy

Copyright, 1redssie
So that was death! We knew all
about it now. That is what it looks
like, and we turned our heads back
and shuddered.
But then there came more and moro
Of them.
And by this time we have become
accustomed to them.
Strange! I gaze at these silent
faces that seem to laugh at us, at
these wounds that seem to mouth at
us Enthusiastically, as If they had nothing
to do with me. It strikes me all as so
remote, so Indifferent As If all these
dead bodies were lying in glass cases,
as II I were in an anatomical museum,
and were staring with dispassionately
curious eyes at some scientific ex.
hibits.
Sometimes no wounds at all are
visible. The bullets have passed
through the uniforms somewhere, and
have gone clean through the softer
parts of the bodies.
They have grown rigid in death in
grotesque pastures as If death had
been trying to pose figures here.
There are certain schemes Of death
that are always recurring. Hands out
observation-disclosures clawing the grass
fallen forward on to the face-that
fellow over there lying on his back ia
holding his hand pressed tight against
his abdomen, as II he were trying to
stanch the wound.
In the country was once watching
them killing sheep. There a beast
lay, and was waiting for the butcher,
and as the short knife cut through its
windpipe and jugular vein, and the
blood leaped hot from it's neck,
could see nothing but the big eye, how
1t enlarged in it's head to a fearsome
stare, until at last it turned to dull
glass.
All the bodies lying about here, as
II bleattng up to heaven, have got
these glazed eyes, they are lying as il
they were outstretched in the abattoir.
Well, to be hit and to fall down dead,
there's nothing to make fuss about
that! But to be shot through the
chest, to be shot through he belly, to
burn for hours In the fever of your
wounds, to cool your mangled body in
the wet grass. and to stare, up into
the pitiless blue heavens because your
accused eyes go on refusing to glaze
over yet
turn away from them. I force my
self to look past these hooking, gro
tesque poses plastiques Of death.
And am already spirited far away,
and am sitting in my little study at
home. My coffee cup is standing
snugly to my hand. My bookcase is
beaming down on me. My well-loved
books invite me, and In front of me
my book of books, Faust" lies open.
And SO read, and feel the wonderful
relaxation that comes after work
stealing through my longing blood.
The door opens. "A little girl, and
q boy who has just learned the use of
his legs, put their noses in at the door.
Daddy. NAV u4s"
nod consent. Then they spread
out their little arms. and rush at me.
"Daddy!"
They are climbing on to my knees
now, and give them ride-"this is
how we ride to war"
But they Irvine their soft arms
round my neck until at length I put
them down on the floor: "Now 60
to mummy"
And now
A new picture. How very plainly
see it. We have gone out of Sum
day afternoon beyond the suburbs,
gone out with bag and baggage. I
see the green fields bright and fair,
and see the two Riddles bright and
fair. They are rolling about in the
grass and chasing the butterflies, and
laughing up at me, and growing with
delight as they run after the ball I
have thrown down for them to play
with. And the sky stretches above us
In its Sabbath blue, and SO confidently
as If it all could never come to an end.
And Dora smiles at me with quiet
eyes.
Then I come back with start
feel my knapsack chatting my back-I
feel my rifle- see the dead at my
feet again
My God! how can these things be?
How can these two worlds be so ter
ribly close to each other?
And we pass on through this first
spring crop Of dead bodies. No one
says word. No one has a Joke.
How surreptitiously the others glance
aside when some corpse, all too gro
tesquely mangled, meets their eyes.
wonder what is. passing through
their brains?
Workingmen, tradesmen, artisans,
and agricultural laborers, that's what
they are for the most part. They
themselves have as yet never smelled
powder, nor ever been under fire.
That, suppose, is the reason why
they have suddenly become SO dumb.
Then voice beside me says some
thing abruptly, and 1t seems as II the
voice rebounded hollow from the 81.
lence.
1.-THE stuff is laying about here same
q muck"
That was my yokel beside me.
Then he. too, relapses into silence.
and feel as II I could read behind
their shy eyes, as II all that is going
on In these dull brains had suddenly
q