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Updated: May 22, 2025
It was a Russian machine-gun, taken by the Germans on the eastern front and retaken by us on the western front. In General Rawlinson's headquarters I saw a queer piece of booty. It was a big bronze bell used by the Germans in their trenches to signal a British gas-attack.
There was no reason why he should not begin again... I remember now the intense silence of the Grande Place that day after the gas-attack, when we three men stood there looking up at the charred ruins of the Cloth Hall. It was a great solitude of ruin. No living figure stirred among the piles of masonry which were tombstones above many dead.
It all comes back to me as I write that way to Ypres, and the sounds and the smells of the roads and fields where the traffic of war went up, month after month, year after year. That day when I saw it first, after the gas-attack, was strangely quiet, I remember. There was "nothing doing," as our men used to say.
Service had lost his two brothers-in-law, one in the battle of Mons, and the other in the first frightful gas-attack at Ypres, where whole regiments of men were caught unprepared and died in awful torments. Also two of his wife's cousins had paid the price one was blind, and the other a prisoner at Ruhleben, the worst fate of all. So Dr.
Her first soldier, the tortured victim of a gas-attack, was bewailing the fate of his motherless child. Charity brought a smile to what lips he had by whispering: "I am rich. I will adopt your little girl." It was the first time she had ever boasted of being rich. The man died, whispering: "Merci, Madame! Merci, Madame!"
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