Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 20, 2025
It was men like you two who got gassed, and wrenched, and tortured, and girls like myself who patched you up and flirted with you so that we might send you back to the Front cheery girls like myself who hadn't known love, or children, or anything but a nursery sort of happiness. We three and people like us understand, because we paid the price together."
Julien, when the transport was shelled out of its quarters at Ypres, and his horses killed, instead of retiring he took a rifle and ammunition, and found his way four miles down into the trenches at the salient, where his comrades were battling with the Huns at close range. He was there wounded, gassed, and taken prisoner.
Picking out the most intelligent looking one of the group I sat down beside him. "Is this the first time you have been gassed?" I inquired. "Third time," replied the soldier. "I should think you would have been discharged." "Discharged," said the soldier, in a perplexed tone, "why I am only forty-four years old, why should I be discharged unless I get in an explosion and lose a leg or something?"
It was something about his room. He caught the word "satisfactory." "Oh, rather, quite!" said Archie. A fussy devil, the room-clerk! He knew perfectly well that Archie found his room satisfactory. These chappies gassed on like this so as to try to make you feel that the management took a personal interest in you. It was part of their job. Archie beamed absently and went in to lunch.
This is a city of more than 100,000 inhabitants and is one of the most interesting cities in France. I spent several weeks here in a hospital after being gassed on the Metz front and I will speak in more detail of this city in a later chapter.
Next to me I had a young New Zealand officer whose story I had heard with painful interest the previous evening. Like so many of the New Zealanders I had met before, he was a splendid young fellow; but he had been terribly gassed at the front and had been told by the doctors that he would not be fit to go back even if the war lasted another year, and we were then well through the third.
I reported to the O.C. that there were no signs of Scotty but that the cookhouse had been hit by a shell. "Go and see if he is at the dressing station." I went back to the station. For nearly a mile the wounded and gassed men were lying on each side of the road waiting for conveyances to remove them.
I never saw that bag again, as I was gassed and wounded and never went back to Langres, but I suppose that it has long since become the property of some one else. When we were ready to leave Langres we marched with full equipment to a station three miles from the barracks we were leaving, where we were billeted in wooden billets. Here we spent the night.
It is nearly two years now since Baker was killed. He was found gassed in a dug-out on Hill 60, and by his side lay his servant, who had died in the attempt to drag him out to the comparative safety of the open trench.
But I came very close that is, of course if she would have had me. She nursed me after I was wounded and gassed. She was a wonderful nurse and there was something almost romantic in meeting her again...as if she had come straight out of the past. We had an extraordinary experience as you know. I was not in the least drawn to her at that time. You filled, possessed me." He hesitated.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking