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“Maybe so, but you can’t be sure; and it don’t seem quite right that a
fellow should go risk his life for his country, and somebody else steal
his girl away while he’s gone.”
So Bunny began to talk about the front, and what was happening there,
and how soon the Americans would get in, and how he expected to go right
after graduation, and about Paul and what he thought about Russia, and
what Dad thought about Paul; and the young Juno continued to be in his
arms, but with a more and more sisterly affection, until at last the fog
began to chill even their young blood, and they got up to go, and the
nineteen year old Juno put her arms about her escort and gave him an
especially violent kiss, declaring, “Bunny, you’re a queer fellow, but I
like you an awful lot!”
IV
The Germans made another gigantic thrust at the British, and this time
it was the Battle of Flanders. They captured a great stretch of the
British lines, and if it had not been for a six day stand of laborers
and chauffeurs and what not behind the lines, every man hiding in a hole
and fighting for himself with any weapon he could pick up, the Germans
would have taken the whole railway system in Flanders. A month or so
later came another offensive, this time to the South, against the
French, the battle of the Aisne and the Oise; it looked as if Paris was
doomed, and people in America held their breath while they read the
bulletins in the newspapers.
In the midst of that battle, covering nearly two hundred miles of front,
an epoch-making thing happened; the hard-pressed French commander put in
the first of the newly-arrived American troops. These boys had had only
a few months training, and the French didn’t think they would hold; but
instead of giving way like the rest of the armies, they hit the German
line and went forward a couple of miles over a three mile front. So more
of them were rushed in, and a few days later came the battle of Belleau
Wood, and all over America went a thrill of exultation. It was not
national pride, but more than that, men felt—it was a victory of free
institutions. When you ran over the lists of dead and wounded in these
battles you found Horowitz and Schnierow and Samerjian and Samaniego,
Constantinopulos and Toplitsky and Quong Ling; but they all fought
alike, and it was a victory for that golden flood of eloquence that was
being poured out from the White House.
In the midst of these excitements came Bunny’s commencement time, and he
had to make the great decision. He and his father had the most serious
talk of their lives; Bunny had never seen the old man so deeply moved.
What he said was, “Son, can’t you possibly see your way to stay and help
me with this job?” What Bunny answered was, “Dad, if I didn’t get into
the army, I’d never feel right the rest of my life.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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