Cosmopolitan

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["THE FORGOTTEN FOREST", "The Ardennes in the summer of 1947 are a beautiful sight.\nTheir deep ravines are covered with dark-green fir. An occasional\nstream trickles down the mountainsides. One can move for miles with-\nout seeing anybody. Standing in the immensity of the forest, one is\nstruck by the insignificance of the individual and looking upwards\nthrough the cathedral-like dome of the branches one is dominated by\nthe vastness of nature, by the silence of the Ardennes and their\npeace . . . . . . . . . . .", ". . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

a veteran. More walked abruptly, with clear eyes and little jokes. motion, the slow, deliberate, fatalistic resignation that characterizes between men, officers in front. Many marched with the uniformity of into a vailley. They walked aliently and prainess-like, live langes

......We stood on top of a hill and watched the intanry move
a kettle with water on the stove......

One could hear a mortar go off in the distance. Somebody but
out.

There was a liny of commotion as the兵 pilfer numbers moved
will be in reserve."

"Population 420." Second and third Battalion will lead. First
and melted a little ice on the window.

Outside some 100's a whistled over. The crackled in the above
"To-day's objective is Bero," he said.

........The Operations Officer drew a red line on the map.

because
the vastness of nature, by the influence of the Angennes and their
through the cathedral-like dome of the pramenees one is dominated by
strongly by the insignificance of the individual and looking aside
out seeing anodya. Standing in the immensity of the forest, one is
stream trickles down the mountainsides. One can move for miles with-
their deep ravines are covered with dark-green fir. An occasional
The Angennes in the summer of 1947 are a beautiful sight.

THE FORGOTTEN FOREST

- 2 -

[y]

Somebody started singing: "Dirty Gertie from Bizerte". As if it
were expected of him.

I looked at Major Bridges.

"Replacements" he said.

"Oh"

We knew that after to-night there would be no more jokes.

After the infantry had passed Major Bridges turned to me:

"You know, I have never seen an area that looked as peaceful
as the Ardennes."

And so it was. Here, in this country of steep hills and deep
valleys, where the snow glistened on lonely church-towers, where
roads wound up mountains that dropped away at our side, where villages
huddled on hill-tops as though they were afraid to fall off, here
war seemed far removed and out of place.

A plane came over and started diving beyond the next hill.

"He is strafing Beho" Major Bridges said.

We entered Beho that afternoon. The infantry was in the woods
beyond. Shattered glass lay on the side-walk. A dog barked. Civ-
villians were moving furniture into a cellar. Cows with swollen
udders were standing in the street. It was very quiet in Beho.

We had just established our Command Post in the school-buildi ng
when the counter-attack started. A messenger told us that G Company
was in trouble and Major Bridges ordered A Company to relieve. The
thumbing of mortars was incessant. The A Company Commander talked
to Major Bridges in monosyllables to receive instructions.
And then......suddenly as it started, the counter-attack ended.

And then....and suddenly as it started, the counter-attack ended.
to Major Bridges in monochromatic lines to receive instructions.
thumping of mortars was incandescent. The A Company Commander talked
was in trouble and Major Bridges ordered A Company to relieve. The
when the counter-attack started. A messenger told us that G Company
We had just eatapliated our Command boat in the school-building
riggers were standing in the street. It was very quiet in Beno.
affiliates were moving furniture into a cellar. Cows with moffen
belong. Shattered glass lay on the side-walk. A dog parked. Cf-
We entered Beno that afternoon. The infantry was in the woods

"He is attracting Beno," Major Bridges said.

A plane came over and started diving below the next plane.
war seemed far removed and out of place.
pronged on hull-tops as though they were straddled to fall off, here
roads waning up mountains that dropped away at our side, where allies
assailed, where the snow flattened on lonely crunen-towers, where
And so it was. Here in this country of steep hills and qeed
as the Vrgeennes."

"You know, I have never seen an area that looked so beautiful
After the infantry had based Major Bridges turned to me:
We knew that after to-night there would be no more jokes.

"Op"
"Replacements," he said.

I looked at Major Bridges.
were expected of him.

Somebody started firing: "Dirty Gentleman from Bizerte." As it is

- 5 -

- 3 -

[y]

"Place your company along this ridge and start digging in", Major Bridges said. "G Company will withdraw and furnish Baballion reserve".

#And the wounded?"

"It's getting late Lieutenant, you better dig in before nightfall!"

It was quiet again in Beho. Civilians continued moving furniture into the cellar. Somebody began to sweep the side-walk. A dog barked, then stopped. The cows stared stupidly into the distance. And G Company came out of the woods.

Slowly, silently, deliberately they walked. Their eyes were glassy, their movements mechanical. They flopped into doorways, their rifles pointing towards the forest, their breath crystallizing in the winter-air.

And then out of the cold of the trees, into the silence of the village, furtively at first, but building up to a crescendo of frustration came a human voice. "Help" it pleaded amidst the mortars and machine-guns. "Help!" it mocked amidst the dead and the snow. "Help! Help!"

The infantry sat silent. The man with the furniture did not seem to hear. "Help!" the voice echoed from the trees, beat against the houses. The infantry didn't move. They had been in the forest. That was that. "Help!"

An infantryman said slowly, tiredly: "Maybe, it's a German trick".

We hardly realized how it stopped. There was a burst of an automatic rifle. There was a soldier professionally appraising. "Them Mausers are real good guns". And then it was over.

The wind blew gusts of snow over the street. The infantry sat in the door-way with the rifles pointing towards the forest and their breath crystallizing in the winter air. It was quiet in Beho......

eruillating in the winter air. It was quiet in Beno...

the door-way with the rifles bounding towards the forest and their breath
The wind blew gusts of snow over the street. The infantry sat in
"Thou Makers are real good men." And then it was over.

mattie rifle. There was a soldier professionally abbrading.

We hardly realized how it stopped. There was some put of an auto-
An infantryman said slowly, tiredly: "Make it a German trick."
was that. "Help!"

bomeat. The infantry didn't move. They had been in the forest. That
to bear. "Help!" the voice echoed from the trees, past against the
The infantry sat silent. The man with the furniture did not seem
"Help!" if mocked amid the dead and the snow. "Help! Help!"

human voice. "Help" if blessed amid the monza and machine-guns.
Unsilently at last, put silencing up to a crescendo of transmission came a
And then out of the cold of the trees, into the influence of the air,.
sir.

pointing towards the forest, their press of eructating in the winter-
their movements a mechanical. They stopped into doorways, their rifles
slowly, silently, deliberately they walked. Their eyes were glassy,
came out of the moat.

then stopped. The come started stupidly into the distance. And G Company
into the cellar. Somebody began to sweep the edge-walk. A dog parked.
It was quiet again in Beno. Claffans continued moving furniture
"It's a getting late Wientenant, your better gig in before night!"

Bridges said. "G Company will withdraw and turn out Beaufield reserve."
"Place your company along this ridge and start digging in," Major

- 3 -

- 4 -

[y]

The Operations Officer drew a red line on the map.
"To-day's objective is Gouvy", he said.

Outside some 105's whistled over. Fire crackled in the stove
and melted a little ice on the window.

"Population 500. First and third Batallion will lead. Second
will be in reserve."

There was a flurry of commotion as the batallion runners moved
out.

One could hear a mortar go off in the distance. Somebody put a
kettle with water on the stove......

The Ardennes in the summer of 1947 are a beautiful sight. Only
to me, the mountainsides always look white and the trees bent by icicles.

"It's peaceful here", Capt. Wagner said. "One wouldn't think that
there is a war on".

From the hill one could see for miles. Snow covered the countryside,
blurred outlines, equalized everything to a denominator of gleaming white.
Icicles hung from the trees.

"Forests of Christmas-trees" I said.

"Forests of Terror", Capt. Wagner answered.

The illusion vanished. In the distance a mortar boomed.

Capt. Wagner kicked a little snow with his feet. "I wonder whether
he is really to be pitied", he said.

"Pity isn't the right word in the face of finality."

"Let's see his dog-tags."

At our feet lay an American G.I. The olive-drab of his uniform
was incongruous against the white of the snow.

"Josef Abramovitch", Capt. Wagner read. "I wonder what your mother
is doing now!"

is going now!

"Joel Apramovaitou," Cabt. Wagner read. "I wonder what your mother was incongruous against the white of the snow."

At our feet lay an American G.I. The officer-grasp of his uniform
"let's see his dok-toga."

"Bully can't the right word in the face of it unselfy."

He is really to be billed," he said.

Cabt. Wagner kicked a little snow with his feet. "I wonder whether
The illusion vanished. In the distance a motor boomed.

"Boreas of Terror," Cabt. Wagner answered.

"Boreas of Christmas-trees," I said.

I cleft a lung from the tree.

Pinned outlines, dusted everything to a genovulator of Gleaming white.
From the hill one could see for miles. Snow covered the countryside,
there is a war on.

"It's a beautiful here," Cabt. Wagner said. "One would think that

to me, the mountainsides would look white and the trees part by falcas.
The Argennes in the summer of 1944 are a beautiful sight. Only

One could hear a motor go off in the distance. Somebody but a
one.

There was a funnly of commotion as the patsollon numbers moved
will be in reserve."

"Hobnallion 200." First and third Patsollon will lead. Second
and weft a little ice on the window.

Outage some 100's whistled over. Fire crackled in the smoke
"To-day's objective is Gondy," he said.

...........The Operations Officer drew a red line on the map.

- 4 -

- 5 -

[y]

"It's hard to think of them as having mothers."

"Yes" said Capt. Wagner "this is no world for mothers."

"Come on, that sort of talk won't get us anywhere."

"Yes" Capt. Wagner said dreamily. "It won't get us anywhere. What will?"

"Let's get out of here."

I started the motor. Capt. Wagner came over to the jeep and leaned against the hood.

"I wonder whether he was very lonely when it happened" he said.

I knew what he meant.

"In our hour of crisis we are always alone" I answered.

"Yeah" he said and then slowly "So that is how our dreams end...... with the flick of a German trigger-finger."

I drove off.

We passed that hill several times during the next few days. Soon only a few dots of brown could be seen among the sameness of white. And one day there was nothing but snow. Looking over the countryside one just saw trees covered with icicles and gusts of snow blown by the wind. One could not see the blood underneath, nor feel the terror of those moments.

That day Capt. Wagner said:

"Do you know that it never occurred to us to bury him or get some-body to do it or at least to report him."

"I know."

"Compassion" said Capt. Wagner "... the one heritage of all youth is also a casualty of this war."

And then he added, almost to himself, more as an entreaty than

And then he added, almost to himself, more as an entirely then
long ago was a casualty of this war."

"Combustion," said Cabot. Wagner "... the one heritage of all
"I know."

somebody to do it or at least to report him."

"Do you know that it never occurred to us to弹 him or get
that guy Cabot. Wagner said:

nor felt the terror of those moments.

Snow pounced by the wind. One could not see the blood underneath, confluence one that saw trees covered with feces and blood of white. And one guy there was nothing but snow. Looking over the soon only a few dots of snow could be seen among the amusements of me based that till several times during the next few days. I drove out.

end... with the flick of a German trigger-tiger."

"Yes," he said and then slowly "So that is how our dream
"In our room of create we are always alone." I answered.
I know what he meant.

"I wonder whether he was very lonely when it happened," he said.
feared against the proof.

I started the motor. Cabot. Wagner came over to the door and
"Let's get out of here."

miii?"

"Yes," Cabot. Wagner said dreamily. "It won't get us anywhere. What
"Come on, that sort of talk won't get us anywhere."

"Yes," said Cabot. Wagner: "this is no world for mothers."

"It's a hard go think of them as having mothers."

- 2 -

[y]

- 6 -

as a statement:

"Sometimes I am seized with a terrible fear. I am afraid not to die but to be the last man alive in this void, in this nothingness."

There was nothing to answer. I looked at Karl Wagner, tall, bronzed, his blonde hair closely cut, Karl Wagner of the class of 1942 of Stanford University, who had majored in Philosophy and who in the winter of 1944 was Executive Officer of an organization engaged in killing its fellowmen.........

............A few weeks later I was sitting in our makeshift office when a soldier entered.

"What can I do for you", I asked.

"I am from Graves-Registration, sir."

"Yes?"

"One of your men was hit to-day."

I did not have to ask. I could feel the next sentence:

"A Capt. ... Capt. Karl Wagner."

Yes Karl, I thought, that is how dreams end.

"Did he......"

The soldier was bored:

"He did not feel anything. A mortar got him."

"Alright," I said, "anything else?"

"I thought you might want to send this stuff to his family."

"What is it?"

"Oh, the usual stuff" said the soldier, "a box of matches, a can opener, some pictures, a wallet... an address-book."

The indifference of the soldier began to get on my nerves.

The inquisitiveness of the soldier began to set on himervan.
can obenner, some biograph, a millet... an address-book."

"On, the naval officer," said the soldier, "a box of matches, a
"What if it?"

"I thought how might want to send this scull to his family." "Virtue," I said, "amazing class."

"He did not feel anything. A moment got him."

The soldier was done:

"Did he..."

Yes, Karl, I thought, that is how dreamy end.

"A Cate..." Capt. Karl Wagner."

I did not have to ask. I could feel the next sentence: "One of you? was fit to-day." Yes?"

I am from Graves-Regulation, sir." "What can I do for you," I asked.

Office when a soldier enters.

........A few weeks later, I was sitting in our meeting hall.

in filling its leaves........

in the winter of 1944 was Executive Officer of an organization engaged
in Stanford University, who had married in Unifacility and who
promoted, die promise park closely aft. Karl Wagner of the class of
there was nothing to answer. I looked at Karl Wagner, tall,
to die put to the last man alive in this void, in this nothingness."

"Sometimes I am asked with a terrible tenor. I am strait not
a statement:

- 6 -

-7-

"Let's see his address-book, soldier", I said abruptly.

When I opened the book a soiled, battered piece of paper fell
out. When I read the handwriting, stiff, child-like, almost like
an afterthought, I was sick at heart. Here is what it said:

"Josef Abramovič, you could not have been more than 20. The
issues may have been confused to you and the goal hazy. But what does
that matter now? What might you be doing to-day if it were not for
the war? What hopes and aspirations lie here with the rifle next to
you indicating finality, marking frustration? Josef, you, in a way,
personify the youth of the world, the faith, the hope, the courage
that add up in the end to rows of crosses all over the globe.

The sun is shining and the snow is glistening on the hills.
Some day, Josef, boys like you will go through hills as these with-
out worrying about "fields of fire" and cover from strafing. Peace
will have come. Peace... after the hatred and destruction of six
years of war. Peace... what a strange word for the youth of to-day,
for the 21 year-olds who were 15 when the war broke out, for the ten
year-olds who have never known a street light.

Those of us who will be left won't gloat, when that day comes.
We won't feel free, for pieces of us are buried in the snow of Belgium
and the mud of Germany. We'll celebrate through dedication. We will
try to prevent those sceptics who never have anything positive to say
from defiling our victory, the nobility of our comradship, the sacri-
fice of our casualties by cheap words and worked-over platitudes. The
soldiers want peace, the youth all over the world, some deceived by
its elders, others sure of their cause, all idealistic, all self-sac-
rificing, want quiet and a chance to get a hold of themselves. They

riliing, want quiet and a chance to get a hold of themselves. They
its edges, others sum of their cause, all idealistic, all self-ase-
soliers want peace, the youth all over the world, some decimated by
vice of our canalsies by cheap words and worked-over baselines. The
from defiling our victory, the nobility of our comradery, a sort-
tly to prevent those acceptances who never have anything boastful to say
and the mind of Germany. We'll celebrate through dedication. We will
We won't feel free, for pieces of us are printed in the snow of Belgium
Those of us who will be left won't float, when that day comes.
Lear-oды who have never known a street fight.

for the 31 Lear-o-dы who were 10 when the war broke out, for the ten
years of war. Peace... what a strange word for the youth of to-day,
will have come. Peace... after the past and destruction of six
out working abroad "fields of fire" and cover from straying. Peace
some day, to-day, pokes like you will go through bills as these with-
the sum is adding and the sum is a billeting on the bill.
that add up in the end to rows of crosses all over the globe.
beauty the youth of the world, the faith, the hope, the courage
you indicating finiteness, marking frustration? Today, don't in a way,
the war? What hopes and aspirations lie here with the rifle next to
that matter now? What might you be doing to-day if it were not for
fanes may have been confused to you and the goal past. But what does
"today" appear today, you confid not have been more than 50. The
an afterword? I was a kid at heart. Here is what it said:
out. When I read the handwriting, still, uncanny-like, almost like


When I opened the book a soft, pattered piece of paper fell
"let's see his stress-book, soldier," I said sprightly.

- 7 -

- 8 -

don't want to be noble and brave and fatalistic any longer. They
want to be human, they want... real, true peace.

Then, we can feel free and then you, Josef, will be vindica-
ted... "

"Will you send the stuff, sir," the soldier resumed "or shall I?"

"No", I said briefly, "I'll send... the stuff."

I assembled Capt. Wagners belongings but put the paper in my pocket, for I felt nobody would really understand it as well as I.

Then I sat down to write a letter to his wife.

After a few words I stopped. I took the paper from my pocket,
put it with the knife, the can opener, the match-box, the adress-
book and told one of the men to make a package.

There was nothing left for me to say.

A little later I ordered the sergeant-major to fill out the
standard casualty form and prepare for my signature, a letter re-
questing an officer-replacement.

The Ardennes in the summer of 1947 are a beautiful sight. Only
I always see the M P in his shiny helmet standing on a street corner
in Marche, yelling at all vehicles to put on their headlights, be-
cause Marche was so far behind the lines. And the M P still stand-
ing there when the first German shells came in. And the way he
looked when they carried him away on a stretcher.

The streets were empty. Occasionally a furtive voice would
ask: "Les Boches passeront-ils?" And because it seemed fantastic
and because we were young and because everything seemed worthwhile

and because we were young and because everything seemed worthwhile
ask: "Ies Boches brassouf-fis?" And because it seemed fantastic
the streets were empty. Occasionally a furtive voice would
looked when they carried him away on a stretcher.

ing there when the first German arrival came in. And the way he
came Mercie was so far behind the lines. And the M B still stand-
in Mercie, leaping at all appliances to put on their headlights, pe-
I saw as the M B hit his aim and he met standing on a street corner

The Videnne in the summer of 1944 are a beautiful sight. Only

cheating an officer-replacement.

standard canality form and brevare for M A signature, a letter re-
A little later I ordered the sergeant-major to till out the

There was nothing felt for me to say.

pock and told one of the men to make a backstep.

but it with the knife, the can opener, the watch-box, the address-

After a few words I stopped. I took the paper from M A pocket.
Then I sat down to write a letter to his wife.

pocket, for I left nobody would really understand it as well as I.
I assembled Capt. Wagner pending but the paper in M A

"No", I said briefly, "I'll send... the snuff."

It?

"Will you send the snuff, sir?" the soldier resumed "or shall
req..."

Then, we can feel free and then you, too, will be aintio-
want to be human, they want... real, true peace.

don't want to be people and prove and satisfactor and longer. They

- 8 -

-9-

we used to answer: "Non Jamais".

To-day Marche is full of life again. People throng the streets, sit in the cafes. I stood in the town square and thought of the time when the streets were empty but we were young and full of hope. I am sure, I thought, that here everybody will know our suffering and our dead.

I stopped a man in the street. "Monsieur, J'ai été soldat américain." He looked at me blankly. "Monsieur?" He answered uncompromisingly.

Don't you see, man, I was here when it happened, I was here when people were not yet cynical, when abstract values still were not a snicker. Here I and many like me fought and hoped. Can't the world ever recapture the spirit of those days, of sacrifice and of dedications? Will we be doomed to stand and look at each other uncompromisingly and say: "Monsieur?"

The man moved on. A plaque stands in the town square:

"To the heroic 84th American Division which in the snow of Christmas 1944 stopped the Rundstedt offensive at the very gate of this city, the citizen of Marche extend their eternal thanks."

Is that all that will remain of our misery, our battle, our hope, not an understanding among men but merely dome words carved in stone?

in stone?

pope, not an understanding among men but merely some words carved
in stone that will remain of our weakly, our battle, our

this city, the citizen of Marcne extend their eternal thanks."

Christmas 1844robbed the Fundamentals alternative at the very gate of
"To the hero of American Dialclop which in the anow of
The man moved on. A bridle stands in the towm adrine:
pendingly and say: "Marcneur?"

tions? Will we be doomed to stand and look at each other uncomb-
ever reascpure the spirit of those days, of sacrifice and of deities-
smoker. Here I and many like me thought and hoped. Can't the world
bebye were not let cylindrical, when spactret airne still were not a
Don't you see, man, I was here when it happened, I was here when
rependingly.

america?" He looked at me blankly. "Marcneur?" He answered uncomb-
I stobbed a man in the street. "Marcneur, that's what I said about

geat.

ame, I thought, that here everybody will know our outlying and our
when the streets were empty put we were long and full of people. I am
at in the sales. I stood in the towm adrine and thought of the time
To-day Marcne is full of file again. People throw the streets,
we need to answer: "How tamia."

- 2 -

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