United States or Canada ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
In the streets, the galloping of the horses and the noise of the vehicles made her fancy that all the inmates of Saint-Anne were at her heels. And that the doctor had threatened her! Really, she already thought she had the complaint. In the Rue de la Goutte-d'Or the Boches and the others were naturally awaiting her. The moment she appeared they called her into the concierge's room.
Two pictures stand out, particularly, the dead on the barbed wire, and the village called "Fey au Rats" at night. "The next line is the first line. Speak in whispers now, for if the Boches hear us we shall get a shower of hand-grenades." I turned into a deep, wide trench whose floor had been trodden into a slop of cheesy, brown mire which clung to the big hobnailed boots of the soldiers.
He knew there was one man, and perhaps two, in that falling machine, and that he was watching them falling to what would probably be death. "'It is for France, he said to himself. 'If they are Boches they must die. However, Mattia did not get the picture of that scene out of his mind for a long time. Later on he became used to it and did not even marvel.
This sure got up our nose, sitting there day after day, with fine targets in front of us but unable to send over a shell. We heartily cussed Old Pepper, his orders, the government, the people at home, and everything in general. But the Boches didn't mind cussing, and got very careless. Blime me, they were bally insulting.
I have often wondered what became of him. The Boches had evidently not expected to give up their conquests, for they had built an enormous stone-and-brick fountain in the centre of the town, and chiselled its name, "Hindenburg Brunnen."
I had a permit to visit his chateau; for in the days before I came over here I had left there certain papers most important to them both. I wanted to see the place and I had a friend that was chummy with the Boches in Brussels. He had forwarded me a pass. So I insisted on taking Brenda along and trying it alone. You know western girls are not much afraid of things."
On this time out we were wondering how we should find the Boches on our return, and pleasant recollections of the time before filled us with a curious keenness to get back and see. A wish like this is easily gratified at the front, and soon, of course, the day came to go into trenches again, and in we went. Our next time up after our Christmas Day experiences were full of incident and adventure.
It was so daring and simple that it took my breath away. This is what he proposed: "If the Boches should use that road again, to send by the tap system the target and range. I had previously told him about our Captain talking out loud as if he were sending through orders.
When we clambered to our feet, we saw a large section of the west wall torn and shattered. It was Olson who first recovered from his daze sufficiently to guess the explanation of the phenomenon. "A shell!" he cried. "And there ain't no shells in Caspak besides what's on the U-33. The dirty boches are shellin' the fort. Come on!" And he grasped his rifle and started on a run toward the lake.
He spiraled and sank, sank and spiraled. Nothing ever hit him. The Boches got wildly hysterical in their shooting. Every rifle pointed upward. They forgot where they were; they forgot us; they fired rapidly, round after round. And still the plane rose and fell, flitted higher and looped lower. It was a magnificent display.
Word Of The Day