The Brookings register. [volume] (Brookings, Brookings County, S.D.) 1903-1971, 1918-01-31
kept her here all night, yesterday came

the orders to move, we left her nailed
by the hands to the door of our camp
building, the penalty was death If any
one went back. Last night ! did go
back and shot her, there was nothing
else to do, | could have let her free,
but | knew before dawn that more
Huns were coming and for her death
would be the kindest. | gained our
trenches without my absence being
discovered. | almost wish | had been
death would have been a relief. Oh,
mother, | don't want to be bad, but
they are crushing out of us every
grain OF manhood we V had and
leaving only the beast in us. l thank
God every night that you and Karl are
in America where men are true, and
~womanhood is respected. l can say no
more, God grant Karl may never stain
his soul as mine is, but | am not to
blame, oh when | think of the souls
of men, the death and disgrace of pure
girls and broken hearts of mothers for
which the Kaiser will be responsible
it seems as though eternity is not
long enough for him to suffer. | am
now in a French prison and I'M send
ing this home by an American doctor
who is here or else my life would go
to pay for it. Fritz.
The letter dropped to the floor, the
only sounds were the ticking of the
clock, the crackle Of the logs in the
crate and a woman's low sobbing.
Karl stood by the window, the cur
tains crushed in his hands every YES
tige of blood had left his face.
Karl, Karl, my baby, my baby, Karl
YOU won't ever leave me will you?"
The sun sank lower, the room filed
with shadows. Karl turned and went
to his mother with outstretched hands.
Something told the mother that even
though Karl was her baby, he had
suddenly become a man. and in spite
of her sorrow her breast throbbed
with pride.
Mother" he spoke taking both her
hands in his. "Of our life in Germany
| remember very little, | do remember
one night when We were all together
you. | and Fritz, you told us there was
one thing to fight for, and that was
humanity. | can stand it no longer,
hearing about the French girls and wo-
men and the Belgian children. | can
stand it no longer the way the Kaiser
is driving his men. | an going
mother, into the war and | am going
for humanity and the mothers
Eighteen months later Karl was ly.
ing on a cot in a little French home
where by some fate the Germans had
not destroyed the house. A French
' girl stood by his side, in her arms she
held a child of six months.
The doctor has said in a week you
will be up and away again
YES. three weeks have | lain here
. idle it is time | was up and into the
fight again. Your husband. Where i:
he? Perchance. who knows | may see
him. Is there a message from you
! and the little one?"
The French girl clasped the bah!
q more closely and answered simply, ="
a have no husband, | never had one tht
, father of my child is a british Hun
1t is the price We pay for being womel
i and for being French. In your Ameri
n ca sir, your women know nothing o
# the horrors of u lives and l hops the!
=, never shall. but it is what we ar
a forced to endure
The day Karl left the French cir
% approached him. in return for wha
we've done for you there is a favo
would ask, the father of my child
Fritz Muller, should you ever see hin
II kill him for France, for me, for thi
" child and for humanity"
Karl turned, his face was white hi
!. hands were clenched-Fritz Mullel
his brother.
There is a German prisoner yOnde
Karl, go see if you can learn anything.
Karl rose from beside the fire an
wandered listlessly cut to the prison
of err.
My God Karl-you?'
lie Fritz"
I'd and when you see him-kill him
Slowly Karl raised his rifle, his air
he ives true-his arm was steady.
m the fading light-a snatch Of musi
a mothers kiss-you must alwoys low
lie each other-driven like dogs-crusf
a ing the manhood out Of us
r. The rifle dropped from Karl's hand
he he stepped over to Fritz.
le Fritz, Fritz"
Don't talk to me for a minute
please Karl, | want to write a note t