The Washington times., 1921-11-11
The Meaning
of This Day
Mayy Roberts RiHe-
hart Writes on SYM
bOIisn of Un-
knOIDn Burial.
BY MARY ROBERTS RINEHARr.

ton today the body OF an unknown
soldier. And with him will be
buried, wherever they may lie,
thousands on thousands of other
dead boys. the hopes that should
nave been theirs, the lives they
should have lived, the dreams they
dreamed that never have come
true.
A great symbol. that buryins.
Pitiful beyond words. Sad with
the grief OF all mourners for tll
dead soldiers the world ovcsr. The
drums will beat, and the earth will
resound with the tramp OF march.
ing feet. The magnificent and
heroic spectacle win go on. but
the dead soldier will not know II.
At IL o'clock in the morning OF
the eleventh Of November, 1918, j
heard the regular distant firing OF
guns. followed by the whirring
overhead OF an airplane. In the
halls OF the hotel the chamber
maid was standing, her eyes up
raised as II in prayer. Together
. we ran down the stairc..ss and 10
the street. The guns were stin
firing. slowly and regularly.
IL was the arn'istice-
u0 NJ Stt ~db WHY pei'N"
who nd been walking had stopped
where they stood, as II frozen into
their tense attitudes, and were list
cning. There was no cheering. IL
was suddenly very still. The aero
plane overhead. showed by Its mark
ings that II was a captured German
one. All at once there was no tra1-
fic No movement. Nobody spoke.
For five minutes the hush con
unued. Then down the center OF
that empty street came an empty
douyhboy. He had no blouse, but
over his flannel shirt he wore,
turned inside out. gaudny lined
leather vest. His service cap was
set jauntiy over one eye. a huge
cigar was stuck in corner OF nus
mouth, and In front OF him, ieh
by a string around his neck, hung
"a child's drum. on which he was
humping joyfully. Thus did tho
peace come down the Rue dc Ia
Paix, the Avenue of Peace. In Paris
Slowly Paris reused. The incredr
BILE thing WAS true. The war was
over. The houses emptied ana the
streets filled. pouring TOWARD ,hc
Pace de la Concorde. where my
tlneu IN rusty Io"s NhN opNN
war, captured German guns, bat,
tered eaemy planes, a DESTROYED
semi-rigid-b -baIoon. all the queer and
murderous salvage OF the dead war
A vast roaring had succeeded III"
carly silence. Paris had no banos
left. A tin pan. regularly oeateh'
was sufficient to start a procession:
suddenly the densely packed crowd
divided. and through the aisle thus
made came q line OF hopeiesly Grip
pled soldiers: men who would never
walk again pushed in Wheeieu
chairs. blind men led BY others WIN
crutches: legless men; men Win
masks instead OF faces; arIIHesS men;
Wherever they passed the crowd
fell silent . d..
A dozen aeroplanes turned Joy,
Gus flip-flops In the air. Captured
German gun carriages were seiZea
by laughing soldiers and trunoIeu
with a living freight through tne
crowd. Poilus on street corner
were teaching little Frencn eirIs
to sing "Tipper-a-ree. The mass
surged and roared. military pro
cession came down the Champs
Flvsee. headed by Hussars. only TO
be sxallowed up by the crowd. But
II was the little procession OF hope
lessly wounded that brought the
peace TO the Place de In Concorde.
And brought II too late
War must never become to US In
retrospect only a matter OF taxes
and boundaries. money reparations'
and the balance Of power. War Is
death and mutilation. 1t 10 the
business OF killing men. Dress II
with uniforms, head It with bands,
and still IL remains the business OF
killing men. Grant II its courage,
bow before it's sacrifices, and still II
remains the business Of killing men.
To the soldier. war is not matter
of a battlefront OF 500 miles. II is
a matter of himself. OF the man on
his right, the man on his left, of
the enemy in front of him, and
somewhere behind, of home.
To the observer, war In series
Of detached episodes, ell pointins
to it's magnificent folly; to Its use
lessnees, Its cruelty. and its sin.
And these things are war TO me.
IN a barn. reached through . sea
Of mud. I saw early in 1915 some
OF the first victims OF poison gas.
All the air Of France lay about
them, hut they could not get
enough to breathe. They lay and
fought for breath, and each breath
was both an agony and triumph.
For SO many seconds longer they
could live. This was war.
watched the Canadian troops
going forward 10 Neuve Chape'le.
They were ruddy American boys,
and they waved their mess kits to
me- They waved mess tins and
shouted. and started forward and
Q few ~ them ever came back
One regiment had only three sur.
vivors. This is war.
went into No-Msn's Land and
II was thing of huddled bodice
and stenches. Of mud and water,
and swollen corpses Of dead horses.
On either side of II for dsys ct
time men stood in water to the
thighs and II vas winter. Stood
In filth, and buried their dead IN
the mud beneath their feet The
stencil of the trenches was indr
scrlbable. This Is war