Montana labor news., 1937-06-17
Slaughter in Chicago
Continued from Page y

worry, the effect will pass" I said,
but he mumbled in~coherently, "They
shot me-" I thought he was hysteri-
cal; a day later I read that a man
had had both eyes shot out.
My mind still rejected the evil
dence of my senses. A mar in a
blue shirt dove into the grass in
front of me. I thought, Hes scared
they're going to fire, he's seen too
many movies of soldiers lying prone,
letting the bullets pass over them"
Only later the peculiar flatness in
the way he pitched forward re-
manned in visual memory, and I
thought, "Why, that fellow fell shot. y
Starting to run again I heard a
boy cry, PA, I'm shot" 1t was a
kid Of about ten. He was hopping,
his left leg raised. His father, a
stubby man, picked him up and ran
on. I was just in front Of them.
Presently the man was exhausted. I
took the boy from him. Cars, hastily
volunteered, were already driving
across the prairie and picking up the
wounded. Two cars passed me, only
in the third was there room for the
child.
He was SO utterly quiet while I
carried him that I thought maybe he
hadn't really been shot, maybe he
was imagining. The firing continued
all this time, yet even though I had
seen cars full Of wounded, I did not
believe it could be gun fire; the
atrocity was SO swift, SO overwhelm-
ing, that my mind could not accept it.
At strike headquarters the long,
dark room was already crowded.
Several men lay on the floor bleed
ing. One was on his side; his shirt
and pants were torn, revealing ex-
panses of skin covered with dark
splotches. There were a few coats,
a few chairs. On each cot there
were two or three with bullet
wounds; wounded on all the chairs.
A tiny yellow kitten stepped care
fully around puddles, daintily lick
ing blood.
The room vas strangely quiet;
people talked in hushed tones. The
mother of the boy I had carried had
found him and was cursing endlessly
in a low tone. A woman held up a
bleeding hand and said, I'm lucky,
Pm lucky, the cop chased me, shoot
ing all the time, and he just hit my
hand" I saw a man with a
wound, a small red hole directly in
the center Of the abdomen. 1t was
just a red spot and did not look
serious. The next day I knew that
abdominal wounds are almost al
ways fatal. Several university
girls, spectators, were rushing fran
tically among the wounded applying
first aid. Three physicians had APP
peared from among the crowd, but
they were not equipped for a mas
sacre.
We started mobilizing cars, rush
ing people to hospitals. 1 helped
carry several men out to cars. My
hands were sticky with blood. First
Aid" had been scribbled on signs
stuck on a r A driver pulled up
with a car full of wounded. 81 had
one more" he said with contained
fury. His leg artery was shot. He's
bleeding to death. We had him in
the ar. The cops came up and
pulled him out. They said, We want
one Of these sonsabitches.' We told
them the man would die without a
t%ourniquet. We said give us two
minutes to take him to strike head
quarters for first aid. They tore him
away from is and threw him on the
floor Of a patrol wagon" The next
day, under the list of dead, I'M
identified" was a man with leg
wound, apparently bled to death"
Forty, fifty bullet-wounded men
had been brought into strike head
quarters. A driver brought back a
message from the Burnside Hospital.
The head nurse asked for twelve
men, anybody, to help out" It was