MY SAPPHIRE.
I have a sapphire rich and fair
And soft as a velvet sky,
When only the stars are shining low
And the heavens hold a mystic glow
And a hushed world stands agaze to know
The wonderful Whence and Why.
I have a sapphire that I turn
In the dark of somber days:
And the darting tongues of nickering blue
Flash deep and rare in wondrous hue,
Sharp as the lightning, pure as the dew,
And true as m’lady’s gaze.
I have a sapphire that I hold
Beneath the chandelier:
And the phosphor of its azure gleam
Sweeps clear as the depths of the mountain stream
Where the Sun-god hurls his molten beam
In the morn of the golden year.
I have a sapphire I adore—
Of varying whims and moods—
Blue-black it lies with never a mark
Across the dim unfathomed dark,
Till there lifts the glow of a tiny spark—
And again it sullen broods.
I have a sapphire that I bend
’Neath the light of burning rays:
And the flames spread forth a fairy fire,
Seething and writhing and leaping higher
Till they come to the land of my heart’s desire,
In a glittering, blinding blaze.
I have a sapphire that I hold.
When the goal seems far away:
When the lee shore churns in saffron spume.
And the fluctuant ocean’s plume on plume
Bears down to a rock-ribbed hidden doom,
And the sky is ashen gray.
I have a sapphire that I turn;
And the clouds break, and the wine
Of a glorious sun spreads east and west
To where the Islands of the Blest
Raise verdant shores at my behest,
And a golden world is mine.
_Oh Sapphire from a distant vale_
_Where the white Himalayas tower:_
_Where the Kashmir lakes are royal blue,_
_And passions strong and hearts are true,_
_All these are met and blent in you,_
_A princely heir and dower._
THE TWINS.
Out of the wonderful nowhere,
Into the lowly here;
Laughing and loving and lithesome,
And radiating cheer.
Twin rose-buds o’ Killarney hue—
Fragrant and fresh and fair—
And eyes of blue, wide-gazed and true,
And tawny yellow hair.
And smiles as sweet as any meet
In pleasant paths above:
And golden laughter that echoes after,
To finger the chords of love.
Two wee buds o’ Killarney hue
That beckon and beguile—
And ’neath your spell we’re learning well
There is something still worth while.
Though drab days break and drab thoughts wake
O’er fields of sleet and snow,
There’s sunshine rare just _everywhere_—
For you have taught us so.
ON SENDING MY BOOK TO AN ENGLISH FRIEND.
“It’s a long lane that knows no turnings”—
And the seas are wide indeed,
But there are no barriers dividing
The Anglo-Saxon creed.
Fair fighting when the skies are lowering—
Fair peace when skies are clear—
And the faith of fair intentions, unfaltering,
And the heart that holds no fear.
“It’s a long lane that knows no turnings”—
And Browning never said a thing more true,
So I know you’ll know the spirit that impels me
To send this little messenger to you.
IMMORTAL KEATS.
Matchless bard of all the ages—
Lyric sounder of the lyre—
Wake among your golden echoes—
Rise amid your latent fire—
Tell us, Master of the Muses—
Sweetest singer ever sung—
By what law of Earth or Heaven
Ye were called away so young?
By what law of God or Mammon—
By what creed of land or sea—
Was a weary World forsaken
Of the mind that harbored thee?
Ere that wondrous mind’s fruition
Scarce had grown to the tree.
If the half-fledged sapling gave us
Melodies past human praise—
If such virgin buddings crowded
Those few sad and glorious days;
If such flowers, barely opened,
Swept us in a wild amaze—
What, Oh Lord and Prince of Poesy,
Would your soul have given to men—
What the marvelous meed and measure
Of your pulsing, choral pen—
Had your numbered days been lengthened
To a three score years and ten?
As through mystic lands ye led us
O’er the paths your feet had gone:
Pipes of Pan—and fain we followed—
Glad and willing slave and pawn,
Till we reached the fields Elysian—
Till we faced the gorgeous dawn:
Till the lanes seemed filled with roses—
Roses lipped with opal dew:
Till the vales seemed filled with incense—
Incense slowly drifting through:
Till the seas seemed filled with grottoes—
Grottoes amber, gold and blue:
Till the songs of birds rang clearer
And the sunshine shone more rare,
And the moon above the meadows
Gathered love, and left it there;
And the swaying stars rose whiter—
And the World was very fair:
As your thoughts’ eternal fountains,
Shot with iridescent gleams,
Floating down through glades enchanted,
On the breast of faery streams,
To a pearl-strewn bay of beryl—
Reached the haven of our dreams.
TO A LITTLE GIRL.
Flammarion and Kelvin and Herschel every one,
Said Heaven was a hundred, million, billion miles away.
So I couldn’t contradict them—it wouldn’t do at all—
But they had never heard your laughter innocent and gay.
Flammarion and Kelvin and Herschel every one,
They said the Milky Way was fair beyond all human ken:
But they had never seen your face, upturned, aquestioning—
A dainty bit of rapture in a leaden world o’ men.
Flammarion and Kelvin and Herschel every one,
They told of gorgeous comets and their manes so bright and rare:
But comet glow could never show the living threads of light
That dance and gleam in th’ rippling stream and fragrance of
your hair.
Flammarion and Kelvin and Herschel every one,
They said the azure ether stretched in miles of lapis hue;
But they had never known eyes that gaze into your soul
In longing little wonder wells of limpid gray and blue.
Flammarion and Kelvin and Herschel every one,
They said no melody could match the singing of the spheres:
But they had never heard your voice ring joyously at play—
The music of a weary world of roil and toil and tears.
Flammarion and Kelvin and Herschel every one.
They’ve told the tale of the double stars, and their faith the
eons through—
But constant though they be, their hearts could never know the love,
The yearning burning tender love, dear child, we bear for you.
GOD.
I
They would give hands to Thee, head to Thee, feet to Thee—
They who are blind:
They would give form to Thee, fashion Thee manikin,
After their kind.
They would give hate to Thee, spite to Thee, jealousy—
Thou the adored:
Only have fear in Thee, only repel Thee,
Master and Lord.
They would bring shame to Thee, even in worship—
Each empty rite:
Bigotry, canting and sere superstition,
Knowing no light.
Faiths esoteric, pedantic and recondite—
Mystical creeds:
False and insipid and brutal and selfish—
And wrought to their needs.
They whom Ye nurtured from primal conceiving,
And ne’er a flaw—
They know Thee not, or in knowing, reject Thee,
Thee and Thy law.
Saying, "We see Thee not, come to us, speak to us—
Tangible stand.
Come in the purple, crowned, robed and resplendent—
Sceptre in hand.
"Even as kings have done, through all the ages,
Brave to behold—
Fanfare of trumpets, be jeweled and refulgent
And girdled with gold:
"Or in a chariot welded of star-dust—
Glittering white—
Pause at the cloud-line ’mid crashing of thunder
And blazing of light.
"Rolling Thy voice till the Pleiades tremble—
The spheres are amoan;
The Earth for a footstool—the outermost planets
Grouped for a throne.
“Thus would we see Thee, acclaim Thee; and worship Thee,
Thou in Thy might—
Concrete, conglomerate, human and splendid—
Aflame in our sight.”
II
They who have drunk of the River of Knowledge
Only a quaff,
Pity them, Father that know not Thy meaning,
Children who laugh.
Atoms that reck not the wherefore of atoms—
Dust of the dust:
Groping in darkness, recusant and doubting—
And bearing no trust.
They would make mock of Thee, saying the life-spark,
Came not of Thee:
Function by function in wonderful unison—
Each mystery.
Sunshine and rain-fall and food to their needing,
Air, sea and land:
Seed-time and fruit-time and harvest and gleaning—
Made to their hand.
They would gainsay Thee by calling it Nature,
Calling it Chance:
And by their impotent wonder, Thy glory,
Only enhance.
But when in mercy the last word is spoken—
When the gates yawn;
Father of Nations—take Thou Thy children
Into the dawn.
Crowning Thy marvelous works with a crowning—
Ultimate—vast—
Showing compassion and loving they knew not,
E’en to the last.
THE GOLDEN DAY.
Have ye a day that bears the glare
Of the flaming morning sun?
Have ye a day the mind may search,
Weighing what ye have done?
Have ye a day ye are satisfied
Will stand the acid test—
From the first gray strand of the eastern skies
To the last red glow in the west?
Have ye a day ye grappled with
And hurled in mortal throes,
When, ’bove the white horizon,
The Great Occasion rose?
Mayhap the World bore witness
To the things of your Golden Day:
Mayhap it is locked from the gaze of men,
And ye’ve thrown the key away.
NOTES
NOTES.
*Trenches*
French Lorraine
Lorraine is now French, but, of course, it was not so during the
war.
Kultur
The so-called German culture.
*Barb-Wire Posts*
Herein is described a common optical illusion or phenomenon seen by all
soldiers, old and young, experienced or green, during the long night
vigils looking through the wires, across No Man’s Land.
Boche
A German.
Hun
A German. The people of Germany take great exception to being called
“Huns,” protesting that they are not of this stock. After the defeat
of Attila and his Huns at Chalons, in 451 A. D., by the combined
efforts of the Celts themselves, the indigenous people of France,
the Romans, who were still masters of the country, the Franks, who
had already become a power in the land, having advanced as far south
as the Somme, and the Visigoths, who, early in the same century, had
established their great empire in southern France and Spain; after
this great battle the Huns retreated back into Germany, where many
of their descendants must still be, but of course the majority of
the German people are not, from an ethnological standpoint, Huns.
The reason for this appelation being applied to them is simply that
when a people have the attributes of a Hun, they must expect to be
so designated. A man may very properly be called a pig without any
misapprehension that he actually travels upon four hoofs. However,
it is possible, though not probable, that the leopard may change his
spots; and time, and contact with civilization, and a democratic
form of government may eventually eradicate the present very marked
idiosyncrasies of the German race.
*Your Gas-Mask*
“full-field”
The full-field pack, consisting of blankets, shelter-half, clothing,
extra shoes, etc., weighing over 50 pounds, on the back of an
infantryman, and guaranteed to increase 50 pounds in weight every
five kilometers after the first ten kilometer mark has been passed.
full marching-order
The full-field pack as described above, plus rifle, cartridge-belt
with a hundred rounds of ammunition, two bandoliers, each containing
a hundred extra rounds, gas-mask, mess outfit and the steel helmet,
commonly known as your tin hat.
*Slum and Beef Stew*
Josephus
Josephus Daniels, Secretary of the Navy during the war.
gobs
Nickname for sailors.
Brains of the Army
Any order apparently wrong or ridiculous is generally provocative of
the soldiers saying, “Brains of the Army.”
Thotmes III, (or Thutmose or Thutmosis)
Of the Eighteenth Dynasty, who began his reign about 1500 B. C.,
Egypt’s greatest conqueror, and under whom the Egyptian Empire
attained its largest extent. Rameses II (the Great) of the following
Dynasty, is, however, the more generally known.
Cyrus’ doughboys swept etc.
Refers to the passage of Cyrus and his great army through the
Cilician Gates, on his way from his conquest of Lydia in Asia Minor,
to his descent of the Euphrates Valley to Babylon, whose easy
capitulation in 539 B. C. finally brought to an end the old glory of
the Babylonian Empire, which, after a long period under Assyrian
rule, had blossomed forth in a glorious recrudescence, in the latter
part of the Seventh Century B. C, under Nebopolassar and his famous
son Nebuchadnezzar—and then known as the Neo-Babylonian Empire, or,
more commonly, as Chaldea. The reader will doubtless remember that
it was through the same passage in the Taurus Mountains that
Ashurbanapal, le Grand Monarque of Assyria when at the apogee of her
power in the Seventh Century B. C, and also Alexander the Great,
sweeping to his eastern conquests, both passed.
Doughboys is the popular present-day nickname for infantrymen.
Sitting on the World
When the situation is thoroughly agreeable and everything is
“breaking” just right.
S.O.L.
Well known soldier expression which, elegantly translated, means
being totally and entirely out of luck, but not to be adopted for
“polite conversation.” Remember this admonition.
*Mr. Fly*
G.I. Cans
Large high-explosive shells of about 6 inches diameter or over, and
made of thick galvanized iron or what appeared to be such.
Cooties
Are pleasant little neighbors in the trenches, due to the inadequacy
of bathing facilities.
*The Salvation Army With the A. E. F.*
John Doe. Private Doe
The designation of an American soldier, where no specific name is
used, as, for example, to fill in the place for a name on a sample
blank or application of any kind. Not used as a popular nickname for
the American soldier as Tommy Atkins is used for the British
soldier.
A. E. F.
American Expeditionary Forces: the title of the American troops in
France during the war.
*Shell-Holes*
The “77”
The typical artillery piece of the German army, and having a caliber
of approximately three inches, roughly corresponding with the famous
French “75,” though not as effective, but quite effective enough.
*Food*
Salvation
Salvation Army.
*Song of the Volunteers of 1917*
Bayard
The great chivalric hero and warrior of France during the reign of
Francis I. The Chevalier Bayard was killed in northern Italy in
1524, during the advance of Bourbon at the head of the Imperial
forces.
the Cid
The chief heroic figure of Spain, who lived in the Eleventh Century,
fighting ably against the Moorish power until exiled by his king in
the year 1075, after which he became a free lance, sometimes
engaging in battle the Infidel and sometimes the Christian. He died
in 1099, and, while a very able commander, it is generally
understood that most of his great deeds are a gorgeous fabric of
tradition rather than actual history.
Artillery Registering
The bursting of shrapnel over your trenches, by the enemy, in order
to get the range for their shell-fire which is to follow.
*Trucks*
Toto
A nickname for a Cootie, qv.
Including nuts, candy etc.
The American soldier has a notoriously “sweet-tooth,” and big husky
men positively gormandize on things saccharine, when obtainable.
Mademoiselle
The army man pronounces the word “mademoiselle” at full length,
using the most punctilious care to enunciate each and every one of
the four syllables. Whether this is due to the word being foreign to
many of them, or whether it is due to their all-saving subtle sense
of American humor, so that it seems rather delicious to call the
little French ladies by so long and ponderous a title, I really do
not know, but I strongly suspect that it is the latter.
The First Division
Caesar had his Tenth Legion, Napoleon had his Old Guard, and the
American Army during the World War had its First Division. It might
therefore not seem entirely malapropos to quote the words of the
great French general Mangin, who was the corps commander of the
First Division of the American Army, the famous First Moroccans of
the French Army and the Second Division of the American Army, at the
Second Battle of the Marne, that began on July 18th, 1918, and was
the turning point of the whole war. In this great door movement the
First Division was given practically the post of honor at the
_hinge_ itself, i.e., directly at Soissons, only one division, the
153rd French Infantry Division, being on the inside of the First
Division, and as it was in this engagement that a gentleman of
Teutonic origin, operating a machine-gun from our extreme left
flank, and apparently very much irritated about something, put a
bullet in my side and out my back, it is only natural that the
message of Gen. Mangin was of interest to me, and saved, and here
quoted verbatim:—
Lauds Americans in Battle.
General Mangin Thanks Pershing’s Men for Brilliant
Part in Drive.
(By Associated Press.)
With the French. Army in France, Aug. 7.—General Mangin, who was in
direct command of the Allied forces in the drive against the German
right flank south of Soissons, has issued the following order of the
day thanking the American troops for their brilliant participation
in the battle which caused the German retreat between the Marne and
the Aisne:
"Officers, non-commissioned officers and soldiers of the Third
American Army Corps:
"Shoulder to shoulder with your French comrades, you threw
yourselves into the counter-offensive begun on July 18th. You ran to
it like going to a feast. Your magnificent dash upset and surprised
the enemy and your indomitable tenacity stopped counter-attacks by
his fresh divisions. You have shown yourselves to be worthy sons of
your great country and have gained the admiration of your brothers
in arms.
"Ninety-one cannon, 7,200 prisoners, immense booty and ten
kilometers (six and a quarter miles) of reconquered territory are
your share of the trophies of this victory. Besides this, you have
acquired a feeling of your superiority over the barbarian enemy
against whom the children of liberty are fighting. To attack him is
to vanquish him.
“American comrades, I am grateful to you for the blood you
generously spilled on the soil of my country. I am proud of having
commanded you during such splendid days, and to have fought with you
for the deliverance of the world.”
“The Stars and Stripes,” the weekly paper of the A. E. F. in France,
in giving a tabulated form of the record of the various divisions,
and their insignia, which was worn on the shoulder of the left
sleeve, said the following of the First Division:—
Division Insignia: Crimson figure “1” on khaki background, chosen
because the numeral “1” represents the number of the division and
many of its subsidiary organizations. Also, as proudly claimed,
because it was the “First Division in France; first in sector; first
to fire a shot at the Germans; first to attack; first to conduct a
raid; first to be raided; first to capture prisoners; first to
inflict casualties; first to suffer casualties; first to be cited
singly in General Orders; first in the number of Division, Corps and
Army Commanders and General Staff Officers produced from its
personnel.”
To this might have been added that the First Division, which was a
Regular Army division, and originally comprised about twenty or
thirty per cent “old soldiers,” and the rest of us “war volunteers,”
but proud of being “Regulars,” the First Division, which consisted
of the 16th, 18th, 26th and 28th Infantry Regiments, the 5th, 6th
and 7th Field Artillery Regiments, the 1st Engineer Regiment, and a
complement of Cavalry, etc., was the division that General Pershing,
the commander-in-chief, picked out to fill the most vital positions
on important occasions, as, for example, when, from the whole army,
he chose the First Division to go into the front line just west of
Montdidier, at the Battle of Picardy, to help hold the very apex of
the huge German bulge that had swept southwestward from St. Quentin
to Montdidier, in the great series of Hun drives which started on
March 21st. 1918. Again, it was the First Division that Pershing
placed at Soissons at virtually the hinge of the great door movement
in the turning point of the whole war, the Second Battle of the
Marne, as heretofore described; and it was the First Division to
which Pershing again gave the post of honor when the St. Mihiel
salient was closed, as it was this Division that was placed on the
inside position of the great southern jaw, just east of Xivray and
dangerous Mont Sec.
Casualties and kilometers make very interesting reading, but when a
Commander-in-chief consistently and persistently picks out one
certain division for the most difficult and all-important positions,
there is not much room for argumentation.
Mr. Page, in his article in _The World’s Work_, for May. 1919. in
describing the Second Battle of the Marne, tells how the First
Division went over the top with the 153rd French Infantry Division
on its left, and the famous First Moroccan Division and the Second
Division of the American Army on its right, and how, in this
gruelling engagement, the First Division outlasted both the Second
Division and the First Moroccans, and really also the 153rd French
Division on its left, as this latter was obliged to get
reinforcements, Mr. Page recapitulating the situation with the
following paragraph:—
“When the division (the First Division) finally came out of the line
it had lost more than 7,200 men, mostly in the infantry. The full
complement of infantry in a division is 12.000. Five days’ constant
and successful attack after a long march: an advance of more than
six and a quarter miles (ten kilometers); losses of at least 50 per
cent, of the infantry engaged: keeping pace with the famous Moroccan
Division and staving longer in the fight—all this had demonstrated
that the 1st Division could stand in any company.” In mentioning
these facts there is no desire on my part to pretend that this
outfit single-handed won the war, because, if I said that, I would
be talking sheer nonsense. The consensus of opinion both at home and
abroad, seems to be that the whole American Army lived entirely up
to expectations, so that any man who was in a combat division, has
good reason to feel proud of his own division, irrespective of what
one that may have been. With this little word of explanation I feel
at liberty to quote the following which appeared in the Paris
edition of The New York Herald:—
Prowess of Yanks Compels Praise Even from Hun,
(Special telegram to the Herald.)
From Burr Price.
With the American Armies.
_Friday_
From a captured officer of the German army comes a remarkable
tribute to the fighting prowess of the First Division of the
American troops, whose work will go down in history as among the
most remarkable of the present war.
He declared the Germans did not believe the Americans could produce,
within five years, a division such as they had found the First
Division to be. The German, when taken, had seen four years of
severe fighting. This is what he had to say yesterday:—
"I received orders to hold the ground at all costs. The American
barrage advanced toward my position and the work of your artillery
was marvelous. The barrage was so dense that it was impossible for
us to move out of our dugouts.
"Following the barrage closely were the troops of the First
Division. I saw them forge ahead and knew that all was lost. All
night I remained in my dugout, hoping vainly that something would
happen that would permit me to rejoin my army. This morning your
troops found me and here I am, after four years of fighting, a
prisoner.
"Yesterday, I knew that the First Division was opposite us, and I
knew we would have to put up the hardest fight of the war. The First
Division is wonderful and the German army knows it.
“We did not believe that within five years the Americans could
develop a division such as this First Division. The work of its
infantry and artillery is worthy of the best armies of the world.”
Little Gold Chevrons on My Cuffs
The gold chevrons, called “stripes,” worn on the cuffs of “overseas”
soldiers, during the World War, each one on the left cuff standing
for six months’ “overseas” service, and each chevron on the right
cuff standing for a wound. One wound chevron meant a wound or wounds
severe enough to take a man back to the hospital, irrespective of
whether he had one or a dozen bullets or pieces of shell in him on
that occasion.
Captain Blankburg
The patrol herein described was what was called a “reconnoitering
patrol,” sent out solely for the purpose of gathering information,
keeping itself unknown to the enemy, and not fighting unless
actually attacked. “Combat patrols” were sent out for this latter
purpose.
*Interrupted Chow*
Buzzy-cart
The carts that were sent from the company kitchens, which were
usually from six to ten kilometers back of the first line trenches,
up to within about two to four kilometers of the front line, where
they would stop at designated points until chow details from the
second line came back to them, to carry the cans of slum, coffee,
and the bread or hardtack, up to the men in the first and second
line. All this, of course, was done under cover of darkness, but as
the Germans had the range of all the roads, etc., and knew at about
what time the food had to be gone after, it meant that almost every
night at least one detail was shot to pieces.
Dog-tag
Small, round metal disc, suspended from the neck by a cord, and with
the soldier’s name, rank and organization stamped thereon, and
forming an identification tag.
*The Gas-Proof Mule*
“Stand-to”
In the first and second line trenches everyone was obliged to remain
awake all night, but at dawn each man had to take his exact post,
and be prepared to repel any enemy attack that might come over, as
that was a favorite hour for doing so. This was called “stand-to.”
*Infantry of the World War*
Zero hour
The exact time at which you start forward to attack.
*A First-Class Private*
Loot
Abbreviation for lieutenant.
“Sunny France”
Soldier sarcasm, because he scarcely ever saw any sun while in
France, and, of course, the majority had never visited the Riviera,
nor known Paris in summer raiment, during normal peace times.
Sitting Jake
Means the same thing as “Sitting on the World,” i.e., everything
salubrious and “breaking” just right.
_Note_
While realizing that my personal affairs are of no possible interest to
the reader, it would seem, however, almost obligatory for me to do
myself justice, and explain that I was quite willing to shoulder
responsibility, which this poem might make it appear I was not. Hence
the following little anecdote:—During a rest period back from the
trenches, which was the only occasion when you had time to bother your
head about smaller things, several men had applied for officers’
commissions, so I got some civilian letters of recommendation, and put
in an application to be permitted to go up for examination for a
commission. This application was forwarded “approved” by my company
commander, together with personal recommendations from my three previous
company commanders. As this officer is the one who sees you daily, his
recommendation is, from a military standpoint, of more value than that
of a major-general. But in spite of my application being forwarded with
the approval of all four of the company commanders that I had had up to
that time, it was disapproved higher up by someone who very seldom could
ever have even seen me. But having had no thought or intention of
getting a commission, when I entered the Army, and having crossed over
to Europe as a civilian, at my own expense, in August, 1917, to enlist
in the American Army in France, which I did on September 1st, 1917, in
Paris, so as to absolutely insure getting into the trenches, and as at
the time of my application I had already accomplished my purpose, it may
readily be discerned that the return of my application did not perturb
the habitual equanimity of my soul, nor cause me to lose any of my
natural sleep or youthful charm.
*Only for You*
rowdy or cad
While very often some junior, or even senior, officer would fall
under this category, and even worse, the majority of them really
tried to give their men a square deal. If an officer were a
rough-neck, snob, or as the men in the ranks would usually express
it, a ribbon-counter clerk, it was only quite natural that he would
take cowardly advantage of his shoulder straps to make it as
miserable as possible for the men under him, but if an officer were
a gentleman in civilian life, the man in the ranks was sure to be
handled as a man and treated fairly, so long as he did his military
duty and conducted himself as a soldier. Of this latter type, I can
look back with pleasure on all my company commanders, remembering
especially men like Lt. Victor Parks, Jr., and Capt. Allen F.
Kingman, “officers and gentlemen” in the highest sense of the word.
Upon the one or two officers of the other type it is quite
unnecessary to dwell. When once free from contact with a skunk, one
simply bathes, changes one’s clothes, and promptly allows the
odoriferous memory to be wafted away and disseminated in the ambient
atmosphere of oblivion.
Silver bursts cut
Artillery flares at night show red, but in the early dawn they
appear against the dark hillsides like bursts of silver.
*Old Fusee*
Fusee
Soldier term for his rifle, the French word “fusil” meaning that
weapon.
The Colors of Blighty
Because of its brevity, succinctness and expressiveness, I have used
the word Blighty to designate a military hospital, though it was
never in really popular use by the American soldier for this
purpose, and to the British soldier it simply meant going back to
England, but as so often Tommy Atkins went back to his Tight Little
Island because he was wounded, Blighty frequently meant “hospital.”
When Nurse Comes In
The phraseology and repertoire of the army man must not be taken too
seriously, as nine-tenths of the time it is simply a safety valve
for ebullient spirits or dread monotony, and with little or no real
harm back of it.
Charlie Chaplin in Blighty
The famous “movie” comedian of the cinema.
*Embarkation Home*
M P
Military Police; soldiers acting in that capacity.
*THE END*