Ellsworth American. [volume] (Ellsworth, Me.) 1855-current, 1923-02-21
TRAGEDY OF WAR
Veterans viii Understand Pa
thetic Story of Panic.
ut Wasn't the Guns" He Declared,
and His Story Rang True to Le-
gion Correspondent.

gion Correspondent.
came upon him in one of those odd
cafes which the tourist in Geneva
rarely visits. He stepped in out of the
fog that overhung Lac Leman, hag-
gard, dirty, with face grown prema-
turely old. | noticed that he wore an
o. d. wooden shirt and that his shoes
were Enthusiastically American army is
sue.
AS he came within the circle of the
cafe lights he caught sight of me, and
frightened look passed across his
face. He turned as though to go, when
1 greeted him after the manner of a
tourist greeting countryman and in
dicated vacant chair at my table. He
flushed, peered at me more closely, and
finally shambled into the seat
AS he sat down his eyes fell on my
American Legion button and he leaped
to his feet with cry. His face quiv-
cred with emotion. He gazed hopeless
ly about him, then sank back into his
chair
"You-you were in the warp he
stammered
"Yes-pill roller" 1 answered reas-
suringly.
"France?" he questioned. eagerly.
Ten months" l replied.
Quickly he changed the conversation
to America. We talked of prohibition,
of the high cost of living, of the presi-
Dental campaign, of Camp Merritt, and
other purely impersonal topics. l did
ask him casually what his outfit was,
but he did not answer.
Far into the evening we sat. He told
me he worked as porter i'll little
hotel in Lausanne. He earned 10
francs week and his board and lodg-
ing in one corner of the hotel loft.
When questioned him about his hack
ing cough he admitted that the doctor
thought it was tuberculosis.
Finally 1 rose to go, and we strolled
together down the DUAL de Mont Blanc.
Once he caught hold of my arm and
cried, There's another American " AT
the door of my hotel l turned to say
goodnight to him, and he shook my
hand.
Then he wheeled suddenly around
and whispered huskily into my ear;
IF you'd a-known you wouldn't sat
with me-" he explained. Il was sick
the captain at the dispensary
wouldn't look at me-he was going to
leave My head whirled, but l packed
my stuff somehow and started of for
the front with my outfit.
"Then something snapped in the
back part of my head. 1t wasn't the
guns, l tell you"
Here his voice broke into scream.
81 amt yellow most times, but-well,
+ cut and ran. A lot of the fellows
were killed that night and-I, well, l
wish I'd been with 'em. l got down to
Bordeaux. The NJ P.'s down there
took no notice of me. 1 slept in a hay
stack at night l had just been paid
Then the armistice was signed and the
fellows went home.
"You see, enlisted with bunch of
fellows from our town. l couldn't go
back. The whole town knows what
did. I made q clean breast Of 1t in a
letter to my brother-he's the married
one-and he wrote me back an awful
letter Mother wears black for me, but
he told me that the neighbors were
talking He told me that was finally
reported missing in action. He said
he hoped I'd always be-that it would
break mothers heart If she knew the
truth. She's all for coming over to
France to hunt my grave, but my
brother won't let her. He said l was
a disgrace to the family and to tile
town. I know it now-but-well l
wish I was dead"
The long speech brought on new fit
of coughing. He reached out a hand
to say good-by and | reached out mine,
but he withdrew his own and cried ::
mo! No! You don't want to shake
hands with the likes O. me"
Off into the dark hurried this man
without country, and long after he
was lost to sight In the fog ! could
hear his racking cough.-George F,
Kearney In the American Legion Week
ly.