Evening star., 1926-11-07

the dipsomaniac. a thing he abon1i-
mates and shudders over, but which
fulfills some inner need and makes
him a god while he lies In the gutter.
| Even the most dreadful phase of
1t all. which you find in a field hos
pital, brings up. memories Is beautiful
as they are CHASTITY. Why. for all
the pain and agony Of It. 1t was Won
derful to be wounded. 1 got two
pieces of shrapnel through my left
leg at a time when there wasn't
| enough anesthetic for all the 'blesses,
and they didn't give me any. Worse
wounded men need it more
| Did they offer you any?" I asked.
! That's neither here nor there" the
lieutenant evaded. II wasn't a dan
gerous case and could get along with
out it, so had my wounds dressed
and stood 1t. Afterward. l discovered
that had bitten my lips through and
that the palms of my hands were
bleeding. But I'm we'll now, I have
four precious scars on my leg, and a
memory of pain that makes me kin to
everybody who has suffered. And
that is part of the education of war
Next to my cot was a French
colonel who was dying. He had been
good deal of martinez. but a grea
soldier. And all night long, in his
fever, but always with diminishing
power to his voice. he cried out. so.
Jacques. you have been impudent
again-eight days prison. Aha. Fran
stayed your leave you should be
punished. Eight days prison And
as he delivered the sentence his lifted.
shaking hand pointed at the imagi-
| nary culprits.
Near him was a boy l knew who
| had had one ambition-to win the
Croix Militaire. He, too, was dying.
but he had won the cross. The
| papers were not yet arrived, but the
nurse had put the cross in his hand.
and all the while he was awake he
| fall into an uneasy sleep his fingers
would loosen about it, but let anybody
step. however lightly. past his bed. he
would awake, seize the medal and
hold it close over his heart. He had
given his life for that medal. and it
was his fear that some one might
take it from him.
"At dawn he sat suddenly up on his
cot and held forth the medal with a
gesture of unmatchable pride.
| "'See, Suzanne. for YOU and for
me-the Croix Militaire::" he cried.
and fell back dead.
/
s. 4 NJ somehow abnormal. different
from you?" the lieutenant
asked, when 1 say that all this was
to me a glory of war, a splendor-
horrid, perhaps, but nevertheless a
splendor that came out of the tumult
| of conflict, where brave men risked
everything. spent all for the sake of
| a woman, who is France?"
but you are an American,
said, and it was adventure rather
than France which called YOU
THAT called me, but 1t was France
which held me. thrilled me-" he
answered. 1T couldn't be otherwise.
For such was the spirit of the men
around me-"
land was that all that held
you?'" persisted. He smiled ten
derly.
| Every man must have something
to typify the imnaterial, abstract
ideal for which he fights" he said.
| Particularly when he Is. like me,
not a son Of the country in whose
service he battles. l found her. in
| France. I shall take her back home
with me.
| But after 1 found her, she was
France to me, the living, breathing
embodiment of the country which had
held at Verdun and surged forward
in the Champagne leaving $4,000
dead on one field in one charge. And
| 1 learned from other men in the close