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Updated: May 6, 2025
"Well, then," said Phipps-Herrick, grabbing him by the shoulders and shaking him good-humoredly, "you murderous little pacifist with seven nicks on your gun, will you give up your German? Will you forget it?" Mitchell chuckled and shook his head, "As far as requisite under military orders. But no further, not by a "
In single file they crept through the prepared opening in the barbed-wire entanglement, and so out into No Man's Land, where they took up their spike-team formation. Phipps-Herrick was the leader, the other men were the wheelers. They had agreed on a code of silent signals: One kick with the heel or one pinch with the hand meant "stop"; two meant "back"; three meant "get together."
Well, yes, I suppose you can all three go, if you are set on it. In fact, I give the order to that effect." "Thank you, sir," said Rosenlaube and Mitchell. Phipps-Herrick, feeling that the strict etiquette of the preliminaries had been fully observed and the time to be human had come, held out a box of "Fierce Fairies." "Have a cigarette, Bunn, and take a chair, do.
She has betrayed the principles of the new era. We are going to boycott her." "Won't that be rather difficult?" queried Mitchell, shaking his head. "Seventy or eighty million people hard to shut them out of the world, eh?" "Nonsense, dear Phil," drawled Rosenlaube; "it will be easy enough. But I don't agree with Phipps-Herrick about the reason or method.
"I'm safe here till dawn you get home, quick! Specially Phil. He's the one that counts. Cut away, boys!" Meantime the American trench had opened fire and the German trench answered. The still night broke into a tempest of noise. A bullet or a bit of shell caught Mitchell in the knee and crumpled him up. Phipps-Herrick lifted him on his back and stood up. "Come on," he said, "you little cuss.
Sporadic explosions above punctuated but did not interrupt the debate, which eddied about the high theme of Education with a capital "E" and the particular point of dispute was the study of languages. "Everything is going to change after the war," said Phipps-Herrick, a big Harvard man from Bryn Mawr and a member of the Unsocial Socialists' Club. "We are going to make a new world.
It was pockmarked with small shell-holes and pitted with large craters, many of them full of water, all slimy with mud. Phipps-Herrick nearly slipped into one of the deepest, but a lively kick warned his followers of the danger, and they pulled him back by the heels. Now and then a star-shell looped across the spongy sky, casting a lurid illumination over the ghastly field.
"Yes," said Phipps-Herrick, "out with them, bag and baggage. Think what the German spies and propagandists have done in America. Schools full of pacifist and pro-German teachers; text-books full of praise of the German Empire and the Hohenzollern Highbinders; newspapers full of treason, printed in the German language. Why, it's only a piece of self-defense to clean it all out, root and branch.
Perhaps a German listening post had carried it out last night, in order to receive directions from the trench; perhaps the mining party man killed, receiver dropped, wire connection not cut, or tangled up with other wires who can tell? One thing is sure here is the receiver, faintly buzzing. Phipps-Herrick joyfully puts it to his ear. He hears a voice and words, but it is all gibberish to him.
A swift light swept the hole where they crouched, a volley of rifle-shots crashed into it. The Americans answered with their pistols, and saw three or four of the dark forms on the edge of the hole topple over. The rest disappeared. But Rosenlaube had a rifle-ball through his right hip and another through his shoulder. Mitchell and Phipps-Herrick started to carry him. "Drop it," he whispered.
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