Evening times-Republican. [volume] (Marshalltown, Iowa) 1890-1923, 1915-03-12
15e
Human Slaughter House
BY WILHELM LAMszUs
By w1LHELM LAMszus


Copyright; Jssdssi
The head 10 plunging on, the body
after It, into the zone OF bullets. and
dashing forward with eyes fixed
greedily on the ground to spy out the
nearest molehill when we fling our.
selves down. And when the excited
Down." o'erleaps itself, we too
tumble down rs II we had been swept
away. And look. it is advancing to
meet us, that murderous wood. :.
up! At the doubled" who
can tell whether he has been hit or
not? -. behind there, out of the
undergrowth-that's where it came
from that's where the streak
of bullets flashed there be-
tween the white larch trunks the beam
Of lead leaped out to meet US
over there, behind that green wall,
that's where murder Is sitting, and
shooting our arms and legs away from
our trunks. Stay her as she has slain
US. Rend her to pieces. as she has
rent us.
Cup! At tho double!"
The body RACES on in the whirl Of
the tempest-the wood, the wood!
-. the last muscle is still strain.
ing for the wood as II the
soul had leaped free Of the body, SO
the body chases after it-toward the
wood lungs perforated by shot
are running still; entrails riddled by
bullets are still pressing on toward 1t
and II you are not hit in the
head. you are still jumping up once
more; and If you fall, you are crawling
on all fours-toward the wood {.
What's happened?
OF sudden q deep stiffness falls.
The machines are silenced!
Not single shot, not single squirt
of flame :. there-a rustling
rising amid the underground :.
the branches overhead are swaying
frantically against each other. Look!
something is scurrying among the
trees, and pushing and hauling-now,
to crown 1t all. they are trying to save
their precious machines from us.
Yah! yah! The earth reverberates
DULY and trembles under our tread
-. roar Of cheers, dubbed rifles,
that's how they are coming up behind
US our reserves are driving
the last assault home 49,. they
are charging in dense mobs-sappers.
sharpshooters, riflemen tall
:srper Jumps clean over mel see
how his eyes are flashing as he passes.
Up, after them there
IL the heather there is the
entrenchment down with you
into the trench and scramble up on
hands and feet y ~. where are
they? Where?-where? there,
by that belt Of frs they will
have disappeared IN another minute
past thick. silvery tree-trunks. through
the green beech leaves, with the sun
laughing in them, the lust Of blood
charges red and naked head.
long through the undergrowth-and
nowhere is something wriggling
away so comically before our eyes,
and twisting with sinuous dexterity in
and out among the trees and the un.
dergrowth [. there is something
clinging to the machine as II 1t were
ingrown into the iron. Ha, ha!
lin the clearing yonder the horses
are waiting.
Let go! Run for what you are
worth-let co."
But they won't let go for
their horses are already blowing
through the underground the
wagon is straining to the traces .
In another minute they will have
thrown their guns into the wagon
and then so-long am
done-the trees are, dancing round and
round before my eyes catch
my foot in the root of tree. /.
Lay on! Lay on! They are "ours"
who have come up, and are laying on
blindly on heads, and bayoneting bent
backs and barred necks, till the whole
tangle disperses squaaling.
drag myself to my feet. A lad. a
mere boy, Is SPRAYING over and
clutching his abandoned gun /.
with an oath some one dashes at him
lit is my yokel bareheaded. his face
uAosOAlSu w A0So LILO IVY
stretches out his mangled hand to
ward him of, his lower jaw is wag.
Cling, but his mouth remains voice
less. The next moment the
fixed bayonet plunges into his chest
first his right, then his shat
tered left hand SEXES the blade as II
in his death .hroes he were trying to
pluck it out of his heart: so he clings
tightly to the bayonet thrust!
. recovery! . bright, leaping
Jet follows the steel and heart
and breath gasp their last among the
All round men are lying slain on the
brown carpet Of the woods.
But the machines are still alive, and
rage against the machines fires the
blood, aud consumes the assh. =. :
Up with the trenching tools! .
with axes appraised they rush at the
machines, and hail. blows upon the
barrels The retorts wherein death
has brewed his potion shrek as
though wounded the jackets
burst the water lows out
and the carriage leaps splin-
tered into the air twisted
metal, the spokes Of wheels and car.
tridge-belts litter the ground all round.
but we are battering and smashing
everything underfoot until our hot