Evening star., 1922-12-24
BY THOMAS J. DICKSON,
Senior Chaplain, 1st Division.

TINE Americans had marched
from the land where Villa was
lighting. across the states. an
ocean. across France almost
to Switzerland. to deliver protest
from the mouth of cannon. Shortly
they were returned to the rear to
see the latest styles in lighting. to
learn to resist attacks and discover
deceptions that had never entered
the brain of a son of Montezuma.
. The short foggy days Of winter
Night was a seeming eternity. during
which the mind of man reviewed all
: the scenes of his life. He dropped
in on the old folks. relatives and
neighbors. He played with the chill
dren and petted the dogs. He was
a child again for the night.
Time had SO closely coupled the
days that they passed almost with the
speed of the cars of a fast freight
covered with red balls. Christmas
was almost here. Soldiers stood in
line. eagerly watching the orderIies
sort the letters and packages. Once
in their lives they seemingly did not
hear mess call THE sweater that
mother knit TO keep me warm is
surely in that sack She wrote to
me that she took it to the post Office
herself. 1 am sure she did" They
were not sons of Mars-only the chill
dren of American mothers.
Eternal fog covered lake and fen.
While they were chunkinS the wet
green pine to make 1t yield more
heat to dry their socks to keep their
feet warm at night. some buddy
! would start the old song:
, I'm the land of strangers, whittier
thou art gone,
Hear far voice calling, My son,
my SON."
They seldom finished the song.
With one accord they would descend
the rickety old ladder that led to
the loft where they slept-go out in
the night to watch for the bombing
, planes. In reality, it was to wipe 81
tear; to wonder II that old moon
that used to rise so beautifully over
! the hills of old Missouri had turned
! to blood.
x * y !:
THE little villages that nestled in
L the valleys were filled with Bel
gian refugees Elder men, women
and children had fled before the Ger
man like the leaves of autumn before
ha cfS nf i,fa Sr-;J a u
separated-separated even unto the
day Of ACKNOWLEDGMENT whose
blood had turned white from search
ing and suffering: Niobes, turned to
stone. who walked the streets hoping
for that which was hopeless. All,
like ants, paused moment when
they met to gain the warmth Of a
word of comfort. They climbed the
highest peaks of faith-bore aloft
fagot to light the path of poor poilu
seeking the comfort of his own. A
leaden scepter hung over a war
cursed world
"De Profundis" chanted by little chill
dren. Little ones wearing sackcloth-
scattering ashes. Babies sleeping in
the shadow of the willow and the cy-
press. They dared not think OF Christ
mas being a reality. Out on the night
air 1oated Petit Noel" their song
of disappointment
Darling Christmas,
Stay in heaven.
This year there Is 70 much suffering.
There are no pretty toys;
Take care Of your money
For our fathers who are In the war
Sympathy interpreted their song
the soldiers understood. There was q
rift in the clouds of war-at least the
children saw 1t. Tears were prismatic
Soldiers were touched with a feeling
Of their inf1rmities. They remember
ed how the old folks at home had
read something to them about "as
you have done it unto the least Of
these, you have done II unto Me" and
do unto others as you would have
them do unto you"
X \
THE American soldier war Santa
l. Claus! The hat was passed.