I DISCOVER A COUSIN, EPARGES.
_January_, 1916.
It is two o'clock in the morning--all the men have retired. I have
just returned from Calonne Trench and am very tired on entering
our shelter. A man--with a sheepskin thrown over his uniform like
a cape--is waiting for me in the outer room. He is seated near the
smouldering fire. He rises quickly.
"Good morning, cousin----"
"What, you here!--Speak low because the others sleep."
"Yes, I learned that you were at Eparges, and obtained permission to
come and see you before going into the trenches."
"What are you doing?"
"Back of the lines I'm a color bearer, here, I am just like the others.
Very soon we are going to occupy the craters."
"Keep your eyes open, _mon petit_, and don't forget that in this damned
sector you must have sang-froid and presence of mind if you want to get
out of it alive. You must save from tears some pretty pair of eyes--a
handsome young man like yourself certainly has a sweetheart!"
He blushed to the roots of his hair.
"I'm not ashamed of that. If I survive this only the love of a woman
can bring happiness hereafter."
He hastily drew a picture out of his wallet.
"Look, cousin, how beautiful she is--I adore her!"
Two hours later a bullet penetrated his thigh while he was in 0 crater.
Now he is in a little white bed and in a few weeks he will be able to
see _her_ again----
THE ONE WHO READS PLUTARCH.
_January_, 1916.
While looking over the first line of Calonne Trench, I found a _poilu_,
seated on the ground, reading.
"What is that you are reading?" I questioned.
"A translation of Plutarch."
"It's all right to read history, my friend, but you are doing
better--you are making greater history yourself--Read on!"
MAJOR ANTHOINE'S CANDLE, MONT-SUR-LES-CÔTES.
_February_, 1916.
Ah! What a brave man this Major Anthoine--we are to dine with him
to-night.
When we arrived we found him bent over his map as usual--magnifying
glass in hand, he followed, hour by hour, this war of mines, this
underground struggle, so bitter at Eparges. The dinner was more than
perfect as it always was.
As we were about to leave, he commenced to undress and with a lighted
candle in hand and half-clothed, he conducts us to our machine.
The boches have seen the candle and without delay a 77 comes whistling
over loudly, bursting on an empty house in the village. The major held
up his candlestick for them to see, then extinguished it, saying:
"Snuff it out!"
In reply the boches sent over, one after the other, three 77's which
did no more damage than the first.
"You see, it was hardly worth four to put that damn' thing out!"
DISCOVERED, ORNES.
_February_, 1916.
To-night a patrol discovered a corpse between the trenches. It was a
very young boche soldier, almost a child. They brought the body into
our lines.
Upon searching him, they found some papers--I was near the commander of
Ornes, when an officer approached with them.
In a leather case there was a letter written on very plain paper.
"Can you read German, Capart?"
"Yes----"
"Read, then----"
Slowly I read a simple letter from a mother to her child.
"Your young brother Louis is not discreet, so we must tell him he
cannot see you on your next vacation. The work at Ruhr is very hard now
and everyone complains. We need many things badly, and, above all, miss
you--When is it all going to be over?"
"Stop!" said the major. "They brought on this war. They suffer? So much
the better!"
"It is up to us now to kill these wolves and their young--and here's
one. Get every one you can, men! Let the she-wolves howl in anguish!"