Winning a Cause: World War StoriesThompson, John G. (John Gilbert)
History
Winning a Cause: World War Stories
Thompson, John G. (John Gilbert)
Readers -- History; Readers -- World War, 1914-1918
A new and unspent and mighty force had come into the fray. And the Hun
knew it to his cost and the French knew it to their unbounded joy. The
French turned. Side by side the Americans and the French stood, and on
that part of the front the Germans never advanced another inch from
that day. They held for a while, and then set in the beginning of the
great defeat.
I was in Paris when the news of the American achievement reached the
population. They knew full well what it meant. The danger was still
present, but the crisis was over. The boche could not break through.
He could and would be stopped and ultimately thrown back, out of
France, out of Belgium, across the Rhine and beyond!
The aid for which the sorely beset people of France had been praying,
had arrived. The Americans had come, young, strong, daring, eager to
fight, capable of standing up against and stopping and beating back
German shock troops specially selected and trained, and spurred on by
the belief in their own irresistibility and the exhaustion of their
opponents. The full wave of the hideous instruments of warfare which
the devilish ingenuity of the Germans had invented, liquid fire,
monstrous shells, various kinds of gases including the horrible mustard
gas, had struck the Americans squarely and fully, and they had stood
and fought on and won.
The French, so calm in their trials, so restrained in their own
victories, gave full vent to their joy and enthusiasm at the splendid
fighting and success of the Americans. The talk of them was everywhere
in Paris. Hundreds of thousands of American soldiers already in
France, thousands coming upon every steamer, millions more to come if
needed--and they had shown the great stuff they were made of! All
gloom vanished, overnight. The full magnificence of the French
fighting morale shone out again--both behind the lines and at the
front. "Ils ne passeront pas!" "On les aura." [1]
And the Bolshevik-Socialists, Boloists, weak-kneed pacifists, and that
whole noisome tribe slunk back into their holes and corners and hiding
places, and never emerged again.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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