Trust a group of soldiers to take charge of a show and run it to suit
themselves. But they were pleased, beyond question, as was evidenced by
the buzzing conversations during the intermission.
"Great show, eh?"
"I'll tell the world!"
"Hey, Joe! You old son-of-a-gun! How'd you get down here? Thought you
were wiped out up at Wipers."
"Huh! Not me! They haven't made the shell that can get me. Look who's
over there with a nice cushy wound to keep him out of trouble. Old Dog
Face himself. Hey! Dog Face ... Come here!"
Such were the greetings of soldiers who hid their real feelings behind a
mask of flippancy.
McGee drew Larkin into an eddy of the milling throng where they could
the better watch what Red termed "the review of the nations." A
strapping big Anzac, with a cockily rosetted Rough Rider hat, strolled
arm in arm with a French Blue Devil from the Alpine Chasseurs. A kilted
Highlander, three years absent from his homeland and bearing four wound
stripes on his sleeve, was trying vainly to teach the words of "Scotland
Forever" to a Russian officer whose precise English did not encompass
the confusing Scotch burr. Mixed tongues, mixed customs, variety of
ideals; infantrymen, cavalrymen, artillerymen, war pilots; men with grey
at the temples and beardless youths; here and there a man on crutches,
here and there an empty sleeve, and many breasts upon which hung medals
awarded for intrepid courage; here grizzled old Frenchmen with backs
bowed by three years of warfare, and there fresh, clean young Americans
recently landed and a little amazed that they should be looked upon as
the hope of the staggering allies. Color, color, color! Confused
tongues, the buzz and babble of a thousand half-heard conversations, the
fragments of marching songs! Here was a cross section of the Allied
Armies, all of them with but one purpose. How could they fail!
The scene had a telling effect upon McGee and Larkin. Wordless, for a
few minutes, they stood watching the throng. It was McGee who spoke
first.
"Did you ever see anything like it, Buzz? Just look at the different
uniforms. There--look over there! A bunch of American Blue Jackets.
Wonder how they got here?"
"Humph! Wonder how all of us got here? That's what I've been thinking
about. This is just a moment snatched from the lives of all these
fellows. What went before? What homes did they come from, and who is
waiting for them? And what comes to them to-morrow? Gee!" He shook his
head, slowly. "It doesn't do to think about it. You want to find out
about them ... and you get to wishing they could all go on back home
to-morrow. Say, who started this talk, anyhow? Come on, let's go back
in."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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