Findlay High School - Trojan Yearbook (Findlay, OH)

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Page Nine 1918 ANNUAL Is your company returning? Yes, we leave tomorrow night. Jeane followed him to the door and Wil- kins leaned against a small table, talking feverishly. They looked out into the little flagged courtyard in which the men, some in gray shirt sleeves, some in tunics, were lounging about among the little piles of accoutrements and packs. Here and there a man was shaving by the aid of a little mirror supported on a handcart. Jests and laughter were flung into the quiet afternoon air. A little group was feeding pigeons, which at the sight of the crumbs, had swarmed irridescent in the far corner near the gabled barn. Here the French nurse and British officer stood and talked freely concerning the rav- ages of the war. Wilkins was just asking jeane about her German patient, when he noticed Sergeant Smith approaching. Here comes Sergeant Smith to pay you his visit of adieu, he said laughingly. Jeane welcomed the newcomer in her calm, dignified way. , I came, said Smith, after the usual greetings were over, to ask about our patient. Does he continue to improve ? He is very much better, monsieur, re- plied jeane thoughtfully. l'm afraid, said Sergeant Smith, en- deavoring to smile, that Stroebel is paying court to Miss jeanef' A spot of color burned on Jeane's pale cheek and VVilkins frowned angrily. Smith noted the eeffct of his ill-chosen words, and stammering a few words, he departed. Bone chance, called Jeane, quickly re- covering herself. l think, said VVilkins, turning to Jeane, that Sergeant Smith is rather inclined to be blunt. You must not mind what he says. He wishes to speak to me so I must take my leave. He extended his hand. Bonne chance, monsieur, she smiled and disappeared from the doorway. At the entrance of the barracks Captain VVilkins fell in with Sergeant Smith. Wilkins, said the latter, 'jusz one word of warning concerning Miss jeane. She, as I said before, is paying too much atten- tion to Stroebel. I'm afraid she will be planning a way for him to escape, because he says so often that he would like to be back in the trenches. She is too sensible for that, snapped Wilkins, and walked on. It was dark on the following night, when a company marched away. As on the pre- vious day, the enjoyable weather had changed with the coming of night, and a fine rain was falling. The soldiers were in- deed an illustrious sight to behold, each with his little pack. But to an experienced regiment this has no illusions. The knowl- edge. of what is about to happen produces gravity. The way was difficult. Here was a heap of earth thrown up and there an awful hole caused by an exploding shell. This condi- tion of the road, together with the darkness of the night made traveling very slow and perilous. Occasionally a rocket was sent up which cast its livid white light, for an in- stant over the entire country, then again all would lapse into darkness and silence. Captain NVilkins leading his little army tramped on in silence, and in deep thought. His mind was occupied with the events of that day. They were too momentous. He could scarcely grasp the situation. To him, it seemed like a dream. Yet Sergeant Smith had forboded it. just as he had said, the German officer, Stroebel, had mysteriously disappeared, and-he choked-Jeane was held as a spy. She was charged with hav- ing planned the German's escape. He knew the penalty was death. That dreadful sen- tence was to be carried out on May 18th. Probably he would never see her again. At the right of the village the road made a sharp detour, skirting a bit of high ground. Now the increased flashes of light accompanied by the distant rumbling of ex- plosion, and the sharp barking of the can- non told the men thtat they were going to have a bloody night. Wilkins greeted this with a fiendish delight. Anything was bet- ter than thinking of Jeane. Thus they hur- ried on, eager to relieve those weary men who had been fighting so desperately and heroically for the past few days. The wearisoine conflict had continued for two nights and days, when, on the third night, there came a pause. Both sides were tired of fighting. Tonight the sky was not a brilliant red as it was on the previous nights. The moon shed its pale light down upon the earth and the stars twinkled mer- rily as if they, too, were glad to see peace again. Send the word along, boys, not to shoot. I'm goin' out thar ter see what I can do, said Jake Martin, a restless young British soldier. Look here, young fellow, said Wilkins, who gave you permission to go out there P VVell, er, you see sur, I wanted somethin' to do. i So do I, said Wilkins, just anything to keep a person from thinking when in a place like this. I'm going with you. They had been out about an hour when they saw two men coming, not far away. CContinued on Page 245

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THE BLUE AND GOLD Page Eight to hear it. The voice was calling him. Charles, it called, Charles, again more insistently. Yes, he answered, although if his life had depended on it he could not have told afterwards whether he spoke aloud or in his mind. Listen carefully, the voice said. At 4 :30 tonight there will be a surprise at Arra- court, at the point where the'Salins-Lunc- ville road crosses the French line. A feint attack will slightly precede this at Moncel. But the main attack will take place at Arra- court. The voice then grew indistinct. As Charles stood spellbound a starshell burst overhead and woke him to action. He hur- ried to report the message to the command- ing officer, who in turn reported it to his superior, also expressing some incredulity as to the value of the message. As no chances are taken in any circumstances when a warning is given preparations were made for receiving the attack. When the Huns rushed forward to the attack they were met by a terrible hail of shrapnel and bullets. -They fied in disorder leaving some 800 dead and 200 prisoners. Charles was awarded La Croix de Guerre for his timely warning and presence of mind. He declared, however, that it was through no virtue of his that he saved the line. Later he received a letter from Stanley stating that he was a prisoner at Helmholz, Bavaria, also stating that when he learned of the proposed attack and lacking other means of communication, he had half-con- sciously called out mentally across No Man's Land in his anxiety, never suspect- ing that his warning would be heard. The mental-telepathic warning was nevertheless felt and acted upon as related. I shall never again affirm disbelief in any miraculous story, such as the Poilu related, nor especially in any mental-telepathic mes- sages. I have become a believer in that wonderful fact of psychic communication, Charles said to james Surrey as they settled down to visit after the battle. THE TALE OF A SPY Rachel Hart, '18. The sick room was very hot, but john Stroebel was contented. The horrible wounds from which he had suffered and from which it was likely that he would recover, although they caused him consid- erable pain from time to time, he bore willingly. XVhy should he not? He, a young German officer, wounded in battle, had been picked up and brought to this hospital, where he knew that he would be well treated. Besides, he had a young French nurse, Jeane Paget, to care for and entertain him. Often she would read to him, other times they talked about the war. Today in that close room she told a long story of how an exploding shell had de- stroyed her home, at the same time killing her father and mother, how she had fied to Freules where she was now a nurse in a Red Cross hospital. Then her lips quivered, she could say no more. Her face showed no sign of trouble, but an iron band clamped her forehead above her burning eyes. Far away beyond that stuffy room, be- yond the din of the battle, she saw vividly a hot waste, hideous with holes and piles of destroyed homes and shapes of horror, and in the midst of it all lay, huddled up, prostrate figures with the sun bleaching their expressionless faces. Wl1at is the matter ? asked john Stroe- bel. You do not speak. When soldiers are wounded they need to be entertained. I'm sorry, monsieur, but today I feel sad. They became silent, but silence did not prevail. From far away came the booming of French seventy-fives and German how- itzers, the rattling staccato of machine guns, the intermittent cracking of infantry riiies, the deep rumbling of exploding shells. Presently Suzette came in, Ma'amselle Jeane, a British officer is downstairs, who wishes to speak to you. VVhat does he wish ? asked Jeane, wearily. He did not say. He just asked to see you. i Au revior, monsieur, said Jeane, turn- ing to Stroebel. I shall come again to- morrow. She went downstairs unconsciously grip- ping herself as if preparing to discuss mat- ters of gravest import. On the entrance of Jeane, the soldier sa- luted respectfully. Oh, gasped Jeane, it's you, Captain VVilkins. Suzette said it was some British ofiicer, but I never thought of it being you. It was good of you to come, she cried, and they shook hands instinctively, scarcely realizing that it was for the first time. But he was sensitive of the firm grip of her slender hand. VVe are going tomorrowg I come to bid you good-bye, broke in VVilkins after a pause.

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