The weekly Alaska citizen., 1918-01-07

 OF SAMMlES IN
 LONDON MARCH

At midday. August 15, I stood on the pavement in Cockspur street and watched the first American troops pass through London.
 The first band passed, and the peo- pie were waving flags and handker- chiefs from the windows. We could hear the cheers go up from the great throng in the square. And there at last. sure enough, was Old Glory, with its silken tassels floating in the London breeze. carried by a solemn giant, with another on each side.
 And then there came, marching in fours, with their rifles at the slope, the vanguard of Uncle Sam's army, And we in Cockspur street raised a mighty cheer. They were solemn, bronzed men, loose of limb, hard and strong, with a curious set expression of purpose about them.
 Tramp, tramp, tramp.
 And they looked neither to the right nor the left; nor did they look up or smile or apparently take any notice of the cheers we raised. We strained forward to see their faces, and we cried out to them our well come.
 Tramp. tramp. tramp. tramp.
 They held themselves very erect but their eyes were cast down or fixed upon the back of the man in front of them. There came an inter- val, and another band, and then Old Glory once more, and we cheered the flag even more than the men. Fully a thousand men passed in this sol emn procession, not one of them smil ing or looking up. It became almost disconcerting. It was a thing we were not used to. A fellow cockney near me murmured:
 They're solemn looking blokes, ain't they?"
 Tramp. tramp, tramp. tramp.
 The band blared forth once more, a drum and fife corps with a vibrant thrill behind 1t. We strained forward more eagerly to see the faces of our friends from the new world. We loved 1t best when the sound of the band had died away and the only music was the steady throb of those friendly boots upon our London streets. And still they did not smile.
 Tramp. tramp, tramp, tramp.
 The cheers died away for few mC- ments in an exhausted diminuendc. Among those people. racked by three years of strain and suffering, theN probably was not one who had not lost some one dear to them. Even the best nerves have their limitation of endurance. Suddenly the ready voice of a woman from the pavement called out:
 God bless you, Sammy"
 And then we cheered again in different key, and I noticed boy in the ranks throw back his head and look up. On his face there was that expression we see only on the faces of those who know the finer sensa bilities-a fierce, exultant joy that i' very near akin to tears. And grad ually I became aware that on the faces of these grim men was written an emotion almost too 'deep for ex- pression.
 AS they passed it was easy to de- tect their ethnological heritage. It was as though upon the anvil of the new world all the troubles of the old. after being passed through a white hot furnace, had been forged into something clear and splendid. And they were hurrying on to get this ac- complished. For once and all the matter must be settled.
 Tramp. tramp, tramp. tramp.
 And whonovor humanity io threat. ened. the fires which Prometheua stole from the gods will burn more brightly in the heart of man. and they will come from all quarters of the world.
 "He is tramping out the vintage
 where the grapes of wrath arc
 stored:
 He hath loosed the fateful lightning
 of his terrible. swift sword"
 There Is no quarter. no mercy. to the enemies of humanity. This is no longer a war; 1t is a crusade.
 And as stood on the flags of Cock spur street I think understood the silence of those grim men. They seemed to epitomize not merely ma tion. not merely a flag, but the un. breakable sancity of human rights and human life.