American Fork citizen. [volume] (American Fork, Utah) 1912-1979, 1920-01-31
Shall Chaos or Reconstruction
in Europe Follow the Great
World War;
NOW WEAK AND HEARTBR0KEN
In Mourning and Poverty She Counts
Her Dead and Looks With Eyes Of
Sadness Toward the Threat
ening Future.
Article II.
BY FRANK coMERFoRp.

Russia. The fire alarm rang around
the world Peasants In the field
Strengthened their backs, listened and
looked Into the sun confused. wonder
ing. Flags were unfurled, bands
played, faces were white, tense and
serious. Men left their work and
talked In groups on the street corners.
Women laid down their brooms, put
aside their washing, and talked In
whispers; sad lights were in their
eyes. Children stopped playing. Some
thing had happened. EVIL things were
ahead. August . and found France
and Great Britain moblliZing their
sons. The torch was sweeping Eu-
rope--the fire OF death had started.
For four long years-heart-slcken
Ing years--the world ran red. Men
waded through mud and blood, fought,
suffered, cursed. prayed. while back
home In the manless houses women
and children worked, cried, prayed
and waited. The world was mad.
Death poisoned every breath the
people breathed.
II Is over now, II IN finished.
stunned. numbed, weak, heartbroken
Europe Is again sitting In the sun of
peace. Europe Is In dirty black rags.
The black Is mourning, the rags nre
poverty. Her face IL deeply lined
trenches made by suffering. Her eyes
are downcast and dead. Hope flutters
weakly In her breast faith has faded
from her soul. Her home Is n house
Of darkness. The fire on the hearth
has turned to cold gray ashes. The
kettle no longer sings. II means. Her
mind IL weary. her body Is wasted.
Hunger has robbed her OF her strength.
Her st0cklngless, shoeless feet are
blue from the cold. Her lips wear
starvation color. Ice In the winters
wind lashes her shlverlng. halfnaked
body. She mumbles rs she stares va
cantly into space-she Is tired. so
tired. As ] beheld her II seemed to
me that face SO troubled and sad
must never have known u smile.
listened to her mutterings. l found
that she wns counting. Over and over
again she counted on her thin, tired,
worn hands-she was counting her
dead.
Thinking Of Her Loss.
She was thinking Her eyes looked
over the hundreds OF thousands OF
square miles OF war zone, slashed
with trenches, pltted and pockmarked
by shells. She sees where they fell.
No tears are I'm her eyes. Long ago
the hurt had reached the point where
tears dry up. Row upon row. line
upon line, mile upon mile, white
painted wooden crosses mark their
graves For the most part they were
her youngest born. her most beloved
who dug deep In the soil TO sleep for.
ever In the dark dugouts.
As they fell bleeding from steel and
lead. choking from gus. writing In
agony from fire. they proved In the dy
ing word they spoke that they wer,
mere boys, rs they had shown In theil
fighting that they were brave men. Il,
the peoples they intrusted their mes
sage, and the red peoples remember
the last word OF Europe's dying sons
who went out into the great beyonC
with this last word on their lips
Mother"
She has finished couhting; an ach,
shudders through her bent body. Sh,
signs and sobs. "Seven and half mil
lion OF my sons are dead"
Her thoughts turn 10 the living he
arms open 10 receive them, she hold
them TO her heart. They have come
but howf
Some with slghtless eyes. doomed /,
grope through the world In never
ending darkness, n night without star
or moon sunless, black, hopeless days
end these. too. young men In the YER
morning OF their day.
Others sentenced to silence-dea
and dumb. Never again will she hea
their voices nor will they hear her
SIN others IN wheel chairs, dwhrfet
'egless.
More bobbling on crutches, llmpln
on canes.
Some with empty sleeves.
Many with great sears, where one
was a handsome face.
She sees them all. her heart bleeds
the twisted, the mhneleu, tne TORI
She Is counting them, the 1o,6l601I
the wounded OF the war.
Wars Frlshttul Cost.
Her voice is husky, her hands ar
tired. but she must count o'L Six an
a half million Of her sons were marke
''mIsslng ond prisoners" In the ofllcs
war score. Many OF these have com
back 10 her. hut she does not questlo
them-she dare not. Their faces te
OF the unspoakahle horrors they 81
dured. She sees in their eyes dept
Of pain that Is unf3thOmable, She
mOther-she knows.
The war Is over, but she is not owe
the war. Must she never stop count
Ing? Is there no end to her losses
Hha qrnvpVortlS are crowded lie