The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1918-05-09

~ ShO Oil bhC DCob VI waves, anu IDen.
incredible even when it has been
realized, England. =
l think they ought to make the hos
pital trains which run to London all of
glass; then instead of watching little
triangles of flying country by leaning
intentionally far out of their hunks,
the wounded would be able TO drink
their fill of the greenness which they
have longed for so many months.
The villages have their roofs on and.
children are romping in the street
The church spires haven't been knoch
ed about; they stand up tall and stately.
The roadsides aren't Uttered with empty
shell cases and dead horses. The fields
are absolutely fields. with green crops,
all wavy, like hair growing. After the
tonsured filth we've been accustomed
to call a world. all this strikes one as
unnatural and extraordinary. There's
sweet fragrance over everything and
ones throat feels lumpy.
The engine comes to halt. You can
smell the train inquiring whether you
have any preference as to hospitals.
Your girl lives in Liverpool or Glasgow
or Birmingham. The fellow holds your
destiny in his hands. Even though he
holds the same rank as yourself, you
automatically address him as Sir"
What an extraordinarily funny way to
enter London-on stretcher. We're
delayed some minutes while particulars
are checked up. The lying cases are
placed four in an ambulance, with the
flap raised at the back so we can see
out. We get impatient with waiting,
There's an awful lot of cheering going
on somewhere; we suppose troops are
marching.
An! we've started. AT slow crawl
to prevent jarring we pass through the
gates. We discover the meaning of
the cheering. On either side the people
are lined in dense crowds, waving and
shouting. It's Saturday evening, when
they should be in the country. Its de-
cent of them to come here instead and
give US such welcome.
Flower girls are here with their bas-
kets full of howers-just poor girls
with living to earn. They run after
US as We pass and strew US with roses.
Roses. How long since we held roses
in our hands. How did these girls of
London know That above all things we
longed for flowers?
1t was worth it all, the mud and
stencil and beastlpess, when it was to
this that the road led back. And the
girls-they're even better than the
flowers; so many pretty faces made
kind by compassion. Somewhere inside
ourselves we're laughing, We're so hap
py. We don't need any ones pity;
time enough for that when we start to
pity ourselves. We aren't half SO ill as
We look; If YOU put sufficient bandages
on a wound You can make the healthiest
man appear tragic.
We're laughing and then all of a
sudden we're crying. We press our
faces against the pillow ashamed of
ourselves. We won't see the crowds;
we're angry with them for having so
unnamed US. And then we can't help
looking; heir loye reaches US almost
as though It were the touch of hands.
We won't hide ourselves if we mean so
much to tnem. We're not angry any
more, but grateful.
UnDd became a part of the war |
was a doubter Of nobility in others and
a skepIc as regards myself. The
growth Of my personal vision was COM
plete when | recognized that the ca
pacity Of heroism is latent in every
body and only awaits the bigness of
the opportunity to call it out.
"Doing their bitr' That covers
everything. More than half the BRAY
cry at the front is due to our love of
the folks we have left behind. We're
proud of them; we want to give them
reason to be proud of u.s. We want
them to share our spirit, and we don't
want to let them down. The finest re-
ward I've had since 1 became a soldier
was when my father, at the end of my
leave, saw me off again to France We
were at the pier gates. where we had
to art.
| said to him:
''If you knew that | was going to die
in the next month, would you rather
stayed, or VENT"
Much rather you went" he an
swered.
Those words made me feel that was
the son of a soldier, even if he did wear
multi. One would have to play the
game pretty low to let a father like
that down. When you come to consider
it, gutter is always a selfish man. It's
selfishness that makes a man a coward
or a deserter. If he's in a dangerous
place and runs away. all he's doing is
thinking of himself