Germantown High School - Record Yearbook (Philadelphia, PA)

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3 THE CLIVEDEN on my life insurance to pay then, and I certainly don't get enough from this war business to pay it. 'Wvhy are you worrying if the war don't end by 1920? asked Buddy YVhy, the longer the war the better the chance of getting killed and beating the life insurance company. YVe both smiled-anything to keep our spirits up. - A little later, back in the trenches, I happened to notice that something was going on in the enemy's lines. It seemed that they were collecting a large number of guns into the front trenches. Funny, though, they seemed not to mind letting us see them at the task and made no efforts to conceal their movements. Buddy happened to see this act about the same time I did. He looked at me questionably. YVe both peered over the top again. My pal touched me on the shoulder and said quietly, Listen, YVill, I'll go over the top and stop the business with a small hand bomb. Now, wait 'til I return. Don't tell the chief I'm going. I looked at him and asked, NVhat do you mean? Exactly what I said, he replied. Oh, don't be foolish. They are probably collecting them so as to send them back, I said. Oh, no, they aren't. Uncle Sam has been treating them rough lately and they are trying to get even with a quick attack, Buddy corrected. I tried to stop him, but his determined spirit could not easily be broken. There's that rumor 'bout the armis- tice, I yelled back at him, and it would be a pity to get killed just before it occurred. Ah, tell it to Sue, she likes rumors, he responded as he crawled over the top out of sight. I waited restlessly in the trench for the friend the war had made for me. One good thing about the war was that it made' comrades for fellows. Sue, our mascot, a large white bull dog, came sniflling up to me as if to ask what the trouble was. If she had had a tail, no doubt she would have wagged it. I have often wondered why I let Buddy go, and each time I curse myself. A messenger came running to me, Bill, good news, yep the arm-by the way where's Buddy-he was just with you? He seemed to have scented the truth. Quick, quick, he yelled at me, call him back. The Armistice goes into effect at eleven. Get him before he is hurt. Bewildered I jumped up and stuck my head over the top. Buddy, Buddy, come back 5 it's all over. The war is-. I didn't finish. I couldn't finish. My voice choked in my throat, for there was the lifeless form of Buddy, hanging limp over some charged barbed wiring- dead from the shock of electricity. Of all the rumors of the coming armistice, this one had to be true. ' A: 3 Y !?! 1 ' ZWIQN -:II 14 1:0-

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GJIUIHIUIE AJIRIVIIISGIIIITIIUEJIEB RUMOR BY M. BERNARD BARR HE most amazing thing about rumors is the speed at which they travel. One containing the smallest grain of veracity would, with the greatest speed, travel like fire from regiment to regiment along the front. One that contained little or no truth would travel faster. The latter often quickened the heart and raised hopes that were soon shattered. Yet the World War would have been a dull and drab affair without the rumors, true or false. Along the front flashed rumors of an impending armistice, and sad to relate one proved to be as false as another. They gave hope and courage to our men for the time being, but when the false- hood of them was found, they brought despair, anger, and torture. Buddy and I had become accustomed to listening to these little fairy tales, and it so happened that we paid scant attention to one more that morning of November eleventh. A The firing along the front had died down slowly, and it seemed as if the steel-horned unicornsn had something up their sleeves. Buddy and I walked to the hospital hut, the shattered remains of a once peaceful French farm-house. Although the air of the hospital was saturated with the odor of strong medi- cines, it was like heaven to us who had to endure, the terrible atmosphere of the powder and the smoke. W'e had become hardened to tl1e pitiful cases of the hospital-hut, but there was one that attracted our gaze that November morn. Sitting in the corner and sup- ported by the shell-shattered wall was a soldier. His head was completely covered with bandages and his arms were supported in slings. He looked like a strange mummy. A cigarette, half an inch in length, protruded from the confusion of bandages. Gee, that guy must be in terrible shape, said my friend to me as the two of us noticed his condition. Say, Iack, is there anything we can do for you? The mummy cocked his head side- wise to enable himself to see through the slits of the swathes of bandages. He managed to remove the cigarette from his mouth and maneuvered it before his eyes to observe its length. lWell, he replied slowly in a muffled voice, I think I could use a cigarette. Buddy attempted to give a short laugh. Sure, I'll roll one for you. He placed the cigarette in a place among the jumbled bandages where he supposed the wounded man's lips to be. His guess proved correct. After a few puffs to assure himself that it was ignited, the mummy said to us, 'Well, it will be over in a few hours. Don't worry, Iack, I'll be back and roll you another, replied Buddy. No, I don't mean the cigarette, I mean the war will be over. Yes, sir, straight dope from the Doc. The armistice will go into effect at eleven o'clock, announced our new friend. We both smiled and thanked him for the information. As we walked away, Buddy said to me, Poor fellow, band- aged up like old King Tut and with both arms tied up ain't enough for him. He has to be a little off in the heavy- weight, besides. Well, I replied, I wonder that I haven't gone crazy over this war. By the way, Buddy, do you think this war will end by 1920? I have an installment 413112-

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SGIIUIRAIINIT 4131155 GJIFGD SAW GIIUHUIEB LEAST BY EDWIN SUTHERLAND TSEEMED to me, asI talked to Iack across the dimly lighted table, that the war had not changed him much. QI think I am well qualified to judge as he and I have been chums ever since we were kidsj He was the same cheerful talkative fellow that had gone gaily 0ver There in the spirit of adventure. The horrors of lighting had evidently left no mark upon him. This was August 1919, ten months after the Armistice, and naturally the conversation drifted to the war and his experiences. He told me of many incidents, some dramatic, more pathetic, and he told them wellg so well, in fact, that I was successively thrilled and moved almost to tears. He talked interestingly for a full hour and then apologized. Sorry. Sort of forgot myself. Once I get going I hardly know when to stop. U I asked, And . . . Iohnson, what about him? . . . How did he get his? Ah Iohnson, he said slowly, Yeh . . . Iohnsonf' He carefully filled his pipeg looked thoughtfully at the ceiling and began to talk. Ieff, he said, I've known you some eighteen years, haven't I? You and I knew Iohnson four years. In these four I got to know him better, better than either you or I knew him at first, and he was no model boy scout. He had the sneakiest, lying, rottenest way about him and I came to hate him good and proper. YVell, this wore on for weeks, and several times we nearly tore each other apart. All the time my hate for him increased. Then Christmas came along and we got together some kind of a party in the main dugout. There were drinks, and cards, some singing, and we had a pretty fair time. All the boys were a little under. Can't blame 'em. They were trying to make believe they were happy. But, I noticed that Iohnson especially had taken too much. He was flushed and quarrelsome 3 he annoyed me. Iack leaned across the table. Now listen Ieff. Now comes the important part. You know those little dolls they stick on wedding cakes? YVell, someone had dug up something like it for our cake. He remained silent for a moment. I was a little under the weather that night too, he resumed, and all sorts of funny things cropped up in my mind. Among other useless bits of information which insisted on running through my brain was how Ye Olde Magicians did away with their enemies by sundry operations and attacks on wax figures, made to represent the person at whom they were sore. You know? A To me in my tipsy state the doll on the cake presented great opportunities and I thought the time had come to do away with Iohnson once and for all. I was drunk, remember. Accordingly, I drilled a neat hole with a pin through the figure's heart, murmuring at the same time Iohnson's name. I, in my drunken innocence, was surprised to see that the object of my charm was talking and wrangling as boisterously as before. My scheme was unavailing. ' At this point our party was broken fConf'in'ucd on. page 465