The Pensacola journal. (Pensacola, Fla.) 1898-1985, 1918-02-20

| IT'S the slowest thing there is; no
excitement about it. You see, we fol-
lowed a creeping barrage. The
ground IS all laid out in imaginary
squares, and a platoon of six guns
mas to drop Is shells on that square.
II two or three of the guns are out
OF commission, the rest of them have
to divide 1t up, but IS shells must
drop on that square, which makes
1t pretty certain that there won't be
living thing left on top of the
ground. Then the guns are trained
on the next square ahead, and the is-
fantry follows up to hunt the Boches
out of the pill boxes"
What time was this; dawn ?"
came from one who craved picture.
NO, about seven-thirty," contin-
ued the leftenant. We'll, about
observers and a couple of pigeons,
the enemy's barrage came forward
to meet ours, and a shell dropped be-
hind me, and got me, in the hip
Ny light Wen out for a minute. but
L came TO right away. | lay there
seven hours in the mud, but it didn't
hurt very much. | was pretty COM
Portable. In that time, two barrages
passed right over me, our own and
the enemy's. At about five O'Clock
the stretcherbearers found me- Say,
they're the brave fellowsi"
That's the way he told it. No cam
mons red glare, 10 ear bursting din,
no pandemonium tearing loose, no
fierce, struggling figures amid the
rolling smoke, like weird demons let
out of hell, no straining forward un-
til the blood veins seemed bursting
IN the temples, no mortal gasp as the
fragment struck him, no frenzied eff
fort to preserve consciousness as he
slid into the dim shadows of obliv-
ION, no taking us in on his probable
vivid pictures of home and mother,
and the boys on Main street, and the
girl at the garden gate, and no
seven long hours of agonized tor
ture while the battle ragged around
him and death dealing shells were
dropping on every hand. No fire
works, no dramatics, no lurid word
pictures of any sort, and no thrill;
particularly no thrill! You wouldn't
think sentiment or poetry was in that
man, would you?
.'But what the big idea about
going back into to" inquired a gen
tlennan of the commercial contin-
gent. you've done your bit. You
could quit with credit right now"
Ieftenant Tom Strengthened up,
and looked at the gentleman of the
commercial contingent with wonder
in his soft brown eyes.
"Quit ~ said he "Why, the Boche
isn't licked. We can't quit, any of
US, until humanity is SAFE
And Lieutenant Bill talks exactly
like Leftenant Tom. He has a fine
medical practice at home, a nice
wife, beautiful little daughter; and
his father didn't want him to come.
Look here, Bill" said his father
Whats your idea of going? You're
doing better than any of US ever ex
pected, so why don't you stay right
here and hold your practice 2"
''Well, father" said Lieutenant
Bill, every man must be true to him
self"
There you are The Americans who
came over here are fighting with ex-
actly that sort of thought in mind
And it isn't bunk" because they're
risking their lives for it; more than
their lives; everything they hold
dear. This is the biggest collection
ef Simon-pure altruists ever brought
together! In our high idealism lies
the answer of the Frenchman's deep
regard for us, his trust in US, his SUI
preme confidencei The bond of SYM
pathy between US is the poetry in US
both. How's that?