The Daily Missoulian. [volume] (Missoula, Mont.) 1904-1961, 1917-03-31
ton that the of the pioneer is not always the
easiest in the world and that Miss Rankin is dis.
tnctly a trail blazer'in congress-
LIE CAMARADE BLANC.

VII TepiuaIE lSlo, Tue Literary digest printed
this paragraph:
AT Nancy, at scissors. in the Argonnc. and at
lpres men talk with hushcd voices of lie Cana
r'de Blanc After many hot engagement man
in white has been seen bending those who lie
on the field. Shells fall all around him. Nothing
has power to touch him. Many of the from
the Eighty seventh and One Hundred and Twenty
sixth infantry have him. On several occa :
sions he has walked through their trenches. He
has been chiefly observed after severe fighting
bending the dying and helping them to pass
away in peace"
There have come to attention two poems
based, their authors tell u.s. the Literary Dgests
account of this appariton. The first printed
last summer in the Waterman Examiner. 1t is
strongly devotional in spirit and an important ad-
dition to the poetry of the war.
The comrade in White.
(By Martha Elvira Pettus.)
The battle? Az the battle has been dire
My captain shot to DEATH his dying sigh,
His parting words heard above the fire
And the guns thunder: his last low good by"-
NO war in heaven brother" Then he smiled
And died. While (thc pang no words can tell!
First knew that was wounded: anguish wild
Ciutched me with iron hand and them fell
Yes. have the vision. That dark night
Nnen all the world seemed vanishing In flame
Wounded ! lay upon the grounding sight
Striving to pierce that blackness: then he came
The One who walks the field of Death and Night
Who bends down to the dying: his eyes meet
The closing eyes his touch, his arm is might
Nor Death darkness check those coming
feet
hear the rifle Shots the bullets groan
ft,,,,,,
He speaks-his arms oustritched IL thou hadst
Thy peace it's hidden from thine eyes this
hour"
And he close beside me--Comradc. friend
Gently his hand had touched my throbbing breast:
All pain gone all terror at an end.
Soon gathered in his arms lay at rest
lie carried me where mountain stream
He washed my wounds, bound them with tender
strovc to speak my thanks-so poor they seem.
But ne spoke not; his hands were claspcd in
prayer.
The while he prayed, drop of crimson blood
Fell slowly from his hands cried in pain:
"Whcncc arc these wounds that pierce they hands,
my friend"
And old wound, yes" he said, but keen again -
Ana then saw the blessed sign--hc bore
| Upon his feet, the cruel crimson too.
| ] had not known--I had not known, before
| But when | saw his wounded fcct--I knew.
Friend Of the dying, Is it not like thee
| To stand beside us. in deadest wo?
An when eyes thy radiant presence sec
Our hearts cry out, We will not Jet thee go"
| No. in the darkest battle hour be sure
| Brother, tho sorcE stricken do not fear:
| Hes by thy side. Know this: thou canst endure
All is not lost. our comrade will appear
There. on the dreadful field. among the slain
Bending above the wounded drawing nigh
TO every passing soul; comforting pain,
| Yes, We have seen Him. We fear not to die
| Robert Haven Schuaffcr's poem, based also or
| the Literary Dgcsts paragraph. is more dramat c
but less convincing. We take it from a recent is
| sue Of the outlook