Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: May 14, 2025
I kept seeing your face in my last glimpse when the Grays made me run for it from your kitchen door before I had half a chance for the oration crying for voice. You were in my dreams! You were in battle with me!" "This sounds like a disordered mind," observed Minna. "I've heard men talk that way before." "Oh, I have talked that way to other women myself!" said Stransky.
He crossed his eyes over his big nose in a fashion that made Clarissa clap her hands and burst into a peal of laughter. "You're an awfully funny man!" she declared as Stransky set her down. "So your mother thinks," said Stransky, blinking at Minna, who had indulged in a smile which his remark promptly ironed out. This irrepressible soldier, given so much as an inch, would be demanding a province.
As the fourth and last section drew off he uttered his first cry of triumph of the day as his final look revealed the Grays still in place. But they would not wait long once all fire from the knoll had ceased. Stransky, who was in the fourth section, remained to give a parting shot. "Good-by, d you!" he called to the Grays. "You'll hear more from me later!"
His knees weakened their grip and his legs swung pendulum-like with Stransky's steps. "What about me for a sleeping-car!" thought Stransky. "But he's certainly harder to carry." Yet it pleased Stransky not to waken his passenger until they reached the station his ticket called for. Entering the cut, he was halted by the challenging cry of "Who goes there?" in his own tongue.
The range to every possible battery or infantry position around La Tir was already marked on his map. He passed the word to his guns. The burst of their first shrapnel-shell blinded all three actors in the scene on the crest of the knoll with its ear-splitting crack and the force of its concussion threw Stransky down beside the sergeant.
Parched throat after parched throat repeated the message hoarsely and leaden shoulders raised a trifle and dust-matted eyelashes narrowed sharply on the sights. "For the man in us!" growled Stransky. "For the favor of nature at birth that gave us the right to wear trousers instead of skirts! For the joy of hell, give them hell!" "For our homes!
You have refused to fight! Within the law I am warranted in shooting you dead!" "Well!" answered Stransky, throwing back his head, his face seeming all big, bony nose and heavy jaw and burning eyes. "Will you get down? Will you take your place with your rifle?" demanded Dellarme. Stransky laughed thunderously in scorn.
There was no humorist Hugo Mallin in this group; no nimble fancy to send heresy skating over thin ice; but there was Herbert Stransky, with deep-set eyes, slightly squinting inward, and a heavy jaw, an enormous man who was the best shot in the company when he cared to be. He had listened in silence to the others, his rather thick but expressive lips curving with cynicism.
It's the turn of the individual birds!" thought Stransky, and heard a familiar sound about his ears. "Bullets!" exclaimed grandfather. "Don't whistle like they used to. They kind of crack and sizzle now. Maybe if they hit me I'll stop 'em, and that'll save you." "That's so," replied Stransky glumly, realizing that he was running with a human shield on his back.
The Grays had five hundred yards to go; the Browns had the time that it takes running men to cover the distance in which to stop the Grays. "We'll spear any of them who has the luck to get this far!" whispered Stransky to his rifle. The sentence was spoken in the midst of a salvo of shrapnel cracks, which he did not hear. He heard nothing, thought nothing, except to kill.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking