The sun., 1918-09-15
A Soldier Poet in France
Letters of Private Charles Divine, Author
of City Ways and Company Streets"
Copyright, 1918. Al rights rsserrcd.

e~.... o.. Copyright, 1918.
ing on deck in rolling sea, with yom
foot slipping as You climbed the hatch.
way, supper in hand, or somebody falling
INTO yusr mess kit Of stew. But this
never killed anybody yet.
must tai you about our evenings
They were spent at the port rail under
the promenade deck, for 1t was there
that the late afternoon sun shone until
the time of its setting, exquisitely, be-
yond the cloud kissed horizon
Dick and Ernie and I.
As soon as we had had 5 o'clock sup
per and had washed our mess kits In salt
and non7ggrease removing water. and had
tucked them away in our ration bags
below decks, we came up to make the
port rail our rendezvous, I and two of
the lads with whom 1 bunkbuddied. One
of them / shall call Dick and the other
Ernie.
Dick is a short, jovial fellow, quaint
m speech. He is unique above all other
men for two things, his smile and his
blasphemy. His smile, which is con-
slant except when he cusses, is. also
ubiquitous 1t begins at one corner of
his mouth, makes a complete circuit of
his ruddy face, and then comes back Joy
ously to the other corner. In Its course
II is accompanied by such appealing
laughter as to seduee immediate appre-
citation. And Ernie, he is undoubtedly
whimsical but more educated. He swears
less often. Two colleges, one of them
Cornell, contribute to his charm. Dick
calls him "the educated private"
Can't you see US three leaning on the
deck rail with our overcoats and life belts
on, looking out to sea, enjoying orr last
cigarette of the day and talking about
everythingf
Uncle SANS Sea Terrier.
The talk usually begins with observa-
tons on the other transports in the fleet
or on the lowering, protecting destroyerS.
One of these slim, gray ships of war
circled past US Like 1.-THE fox terrier.
The waves were kicking up and the de-
stroyer heeled over continually, rolling
and tossing like an elliptieal cork. on
which it seemed impossible that any sailor
could hope to keep footing. Every time
the destroyer heeled over her Hasts tipped
until they lay almost parallel with the
sea.
"Look at the sailors in her crows nest"
cried Dick, letting out one of his peculiar
oaths, this time of admiration. He
banged his pudgy fists on the rail. "You
gotta duke those boys"
Whenever Dick made "duke" of any
body, it was his way of elevatiug that
person to q place of fame.
"By God" he continued, 'if / ever
meet one Of those sailors on land I'm
goin' to lie down and say to him, walk
over my PROSTATE form"
After Dick had thus praised the sailors,
we were all silent, watching the ships.
Friendships don't exist without silences.
Our quiet communion was shattered by
cry of "Gangway! Water coming
through"
We fled. So did hundreds Of others,
for sailors we're again engaging in their
great outdoor sport of swabbing the decks
and chasing the soldiers. Now the water
sprayed over the deck and ran brackish
in the lee seuppers, with bits of bread
and other morsels of mess that had been
dropped on deck during the unstable
meal. '-j':.-..
After the flood We focked back to the
rail, as thick as flies on an August fly
paper. With one foot on the bottom rod
of .ba ,,,l ond fbo o4bor o1-ar 4La cor,p