The Angels of Mons: The Bowmen and Other Legends of the WarMachen, Arthur
Science
The Angels of Mons: The Bowmen and Other Legends of the War
Machen, Arthur
Paranormal fiction; Supernatural -- Fiction; War stories, English; World War, 1914-1918 -- Fiction
"What does it all mean?" he said to the minister. "What are they
talking about? They don't think I'd let down my pals?"
"Drink this," said the minister, and he handed the soldier a great
silver cup, brimming with wine.
The soldier took a deep draught, and in that moment all his sorrows
passed from him.
"What is it?" he asked?
"_Vin nouveau du Royaume_," said the minister. "New Wine of the
Kingdom, you call it." And then he bent down and murmured in the
soldier's ear.
"What," said the wounded man, "the place they used to tell us about in
Sunday school? With such drink and such joy--"
His voice was hushed. For as he looked at the minister the fashion of
his vesture was changed. The black robe seemed to melt away from him.
He was all in armour, if armour be made of starlight, of the rose of
dawn, and of sunset fires; and he lifted up a great sword of flame.
Full in the midst, his Cross of Red Triumphant Michael brandished,
And trampled the Apostate's pride.
The Monstrance
Then it fell out in the sacring of the Mass that right as the
priest heaved up the Host there came a beam redder than any rose and
smote upon it, and then it was changed bodily into the shape and
fashion of a Child having his arms stretched forth, as he had been
nailed upon the Tree.--Old Romance.
So far things were going very well indeed. The night was thick and
black and cloudy, and the German force had come three-quarters of their
way or more without an alarm. There was no challenge from the English
lines; and indeed the English were being kept busy by a high shell-fire
on their front. This had been the German plan; and it was coming off
admirably. Nobody thought that there was any danger on the left; and so
the Prussians, writhing on their stomachs over the ploughed field, were
drawing nearer and nearer to the wood. Once there they could establish
themselves comfortably and securely during what remained of the night;
and at dawn the English left would be hopelessly enfiladed--and there
would be another of those movements which people who really understand
military matters call "readjustments of our line."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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