The sun. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1833-1916, 1915-09-08
ny RUDYARD KIPLING.
(CopUfght IN =. s. A. By Rudydrd
Ripling, l915)
LI,rr Gr.N

ttOpUfght IN y. y. A, OU FHuydTH
Kipiin1. l915)
Special Cable Despotch TO rHr suS.
LONDON. Sept. I'VE left that
stricken but undefeated town, lodged
a few miles down roads beside which
women tended their cows. and
dropped into place on a hill where a
Moroccan regiment OF many expert
ences was billeteG.
They were Mohammedans baf'iingly
like half dozen of our Indian frontier
types. Though they spoke no accessi-
ble tongue they had. OF course, turned
farm buildings wnere they lay into
little bit of Africa In color and in
smell. They had been gassed in Flan-
ders. shot down and shot down and
set up to be shelled again. and their
officers talked Of North African wars
that We had never heard of. sultry
days against long odds in the desert,
years ago.
"Afterward is is not so with YOU
also? We get our best recruits from
the troops We have fought. These men
are children. They make no trouble.
They only want to 80 where cartridges
are burned They are of the few
races to whom fighting is "A pleasure.
And how long have YOU dealt with
them"
"A long time. a long time. helped
organize corps. ! am one OF those
whose heart is in Africa
He spoke slowly. almost feeling for
L., ,l nf
them an order | shall not forget. Nor
shall | forget his eyes as ne turned to
a huge brown Afreedee. like II Mus
sulman, numbering down beside his ac-
coutrements He had two sides to
his head. that bearded, burned, slow
spoken officer we met and parted with
all in an hour.
Petrol FIp~ors Twilight.
The day closed after an amazing
interlude in the chateau of a dream
which was all CLASSY ponds, stately
trees and Vistas of white and gold
salons. The proprietor was somebody's
chauffeur at the front. We drank his
health in the little village. in twilight
hIll OF petrol, hundreds Of ears and
the wholesale flavor of healthy troops
ones own thoughtful nose, and though
| poked mine everywhere in no place
did it strike that vile. betraying taint
OF underfed. unclean men and gun
horses.
1t is difficult to keep ones edge after
hours OF fresh air and experience. one
does not get the most from the most
interesting part of the day, dinner
with the local headquarters. Here the
professionals meet, the line Sunners,
the intelligence, with stupefying pho
toplans of the enemy's trenches, the
supply. the staff who collect and note
all things and are very properly
chaffed. and. To he sure, the interpre-
ter. who by force of questioning prlS-
oners naturally develops into a Sad
ducee.
1t is their little aside TO each other,
the slang and halfwords which, If one
but understood instead of blinking
drowsily at ones plate, would give a
days history. But the tiredness and
the difficulties of a sister, not for
eign, tongue dms everything and one
goes to bed amid the murmur of
voices, the rush OF single cars through
the night the passage OF battalions
and behind all the echo of deep voices
calling one To the other along a Inc
that never sleeps.
Batteries In Hiding.
( A long ridge with scattered pines,
/ Ii might have hidden children a play.
Certainly a horse would have been
quite visible. But there was no hint
If guns, except a semiphore which an
nounced that il was forbidden to pass
that way as battery was firing. The
boches must have looked for that
battery. too. The ground was pitted
with shell holes of all calibres, some
of them as fresh as molecasts in the
misty damp morning; others where
poppies had grown from seed 10 flower
all through the summer.
And where are the guns?' I de-
manded at last. They were almost
under ones hand, their ammunition
in cellars and dugouts beside them.
And as far as / could make out the
- millimeter gun has no pet name
The bayonet, of course, is Rosalie, Vir-
gin of Bayonne, but the seventy-fiye
the watchful nurse Of the trenches and
the little sister OF the line, seems to
Dt dlNdyS ilt i'ul
even those who love her best do not
say that she is beautiful. Her merits
are French logic, drectness, simplicity
and the supreme gift of occasionally
She is equal to everything on the spur
of the moment. One sees and studies
the few appliances which make her dc
what she does, and one feels that any
one could have invented her.
"As matter OF fact" says COM
mandant anybody. or rather every
body, did. The recoil Is after such and
such a system, patent of which had
expired, and We improved it, The
breech action with slight modification
Is somebody else's, the sighting is per.
haps little special, and so Is the
traversing, but at bottom it Is only an
assembly Of variations and arrange
ments."
Guns Result OF Cola boration.
4 That of course Is all Shakespeare
ever got out OF the alphabet French
artillerymen make their own guns as
he made his plays. 1t is just as sim
pie as that.
There is nothing going on for a
moment" said the comnandant "Ii
is too misty. fancy that the boches