The Fargo forum and daily republican. [volume] (Fargo, N.D.) 1894-1957, 1918-01-26

All Europe is pressing on to more
fighting, more blood and more suf-
fering in the hope that this debacle
of slaughter may sweep warfare out
OF the world forever.
This desOlate and piteous cry has
| probably followed every war since
the world began. Has our anguIshed
prayer any better chance to be heard
| than all the other cries for peace
that come echoing with mockery to
us out of the illimttabIe sorrows of
| the past?
From my own experiences at the
front it occurs to me that our gem
Grafton has perhaps better weapon
| to use against war than those who
| Wept in ages gone by.
Strip War Of Romance.
To my mind ii is clear That this
| grim reeking monster, War, is very
| likely to perish from the earth for
ever owing TO a shortage Of his raw
| orite fOod-ROmance.
There is no question at all that
wars happen very largely owing to
| the eagerness of soldiers for adven-
| ture. The military caste in every
| country is ever pressing for war.
II there had been no military caste
! Germany
no war. And without the picturesque
glamOr that always has gone with
armies there would have been no
| military caste.
/ Farm Boy Becomes War God.
/ The time came when ne was called
4 to the colors. He found himself
I transformed into a young god. lie
stood at a palace gate with drawn
saber flashing in his, hand. A silver
! breastplate covered the swelling
! chest that but yesterday was con-
| cealed by a soiled farmers smock'
| On his head was a silver casque
| with a tall horsehair plume that
nodded and tossed in the breeze.
When he went on guard duty a mag
1 nifcent military band escorted him
| down the Linden. Emperors and
princes answered the salute Of his
cleaning sword. At times he rode
] forth on a proud charger who mine
ed hfs steps like a dancing master.
/ This was the farmer boys day OF
/ glory. Never thereafter would he
| walk the pillow furrow with the same
sodden step. He had lived. And 1t
| was the grim, cruel monster war
| who had made him live, who had
hreathed this subtle fiattery into his
ear to make of him slave for future
slaughter.
| Go to War For Thrills.
To a lesser degree was this true
in other countries. The sentry OF the
Horse Guards in London was the
| proudest sight in England.
| Our cfviliza ton has been guilty or
one tragic error.
1t has made the machinery OF
peace dull, tiresome, stupid, old.
It has made the machinery Of war
vivid. picturesque, beautiful, attrac-
| five and young-young. Armies thrill
with life and adventure. Armies are
| proud; they tingle with pride.
| Peace is lived by the rules OF old
| men. Young men go to war and ngnt
until the world thrills with their
fighting. Then old men take mp the
threads and lay down the rules by
/ which the world shall live. And they
! send back the glowing young hero
! Of Yesterday to live again the sodden
| life Of the dawn-to- sunset worker.
! War has been described as the
| failure of peace: and this is one OF
| the reasons why it has failed again
| and again and yet again and always
] throughout the ages.
Peace does not offer enough lati-
| tude for youth; and the young blood
| that flows hot and strong.
| Various remedies have been oner-
| ed for the correction of this crucial
error of civilization. 1t appears tn
| me that the evil is about to correct
! itself. -,
The Cure For War
II il an old saying that every dis
ease has its own cure. But we could
90 further than this; every disease
! ie in fact it's own cure. The defense
1 that science has erected against
small pox is a pocket edition sized
case Of smallpox caused by vaccine
! and cured by the aroused blood cor
have a feeling that this war will
do a great deal toward squeezing the
romance out OF army life. The dread
full sduaIor of modern t1ghting gives
| a new aspect to this age-old drama.
After the war is over the farmer
how NAV go back to the palace gate;
he may wear again the cleaning
cuirass: his saber may fash as or
old hut il will never be the same.
I Under the shining armor he VIII III
! imagination feel the crawling vermin
of the trenches. When the military
hand escorts him down the Lindeh
he will remember how, on another
dav he was escorted into trench
that crawIed with lice and gave forth
reeking, vile odors that was horrlnle
with filth and mud.
Soldier a Ditch Digger.
Never again can they make him
feel romantic about the business of
making war.
The life of a soldier in modern
war is the life of an underpaid, over
worked ditch digger compelled to-
live in discomfort and danger.
Taking il by and large, the life Of
a modern soldier is almost as dull
and monotonous and tedious as thel
life of the dullest civilian.
All the glamor has gone. All the
naRnificence Of the maneuyeringi
armies has passed. The armies do
not maneuver any more. They go toi
live in a ditch and stick there Git
eraIly) until relieved by other troops.
Even the awful grandeur of the ar
tiIlery duels Of the past has been
eliminated. The modern gunners
usually do not know what they are
shooting at: seldom see what theif
target is and sight their guns byl
mathematics.
The courier with the foaming
charger OF other wars has become a
desk telephone in this war.