Soldan High School - Scrip Yearbook (St Louis, MO)

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The man caught his hand warmly and noticing that Scotty's pulse was growing jerky and feverish, took a field kit from his pack, selected a hypodermic needle and began cleaning it. So you're one of those adventurous Americans, not satisfied with your own country, over here fighting for a foreign government. Fritz smiled good-naturedly as he said this, and going over to the cot, injected the opiate into Scotty's arm. H-m-m! Why, you must not be much over twenty-one or two, are you ? Scotty shook his head. He did not care to talk much. In a few moments the soothing effect of the narcotic deadened his pain-then he told the whole story. He was like a child now, a very small child. It did his heart good to tell all that was pent up. It was the first time he had ever confided his story to anyone, and when he had finished there were tears in the eyes of the other. All through the following night Scotty dreamed-half delirious, and several times the German was awak- ened by Scotty's: Oh, Clara! Tell me it's a lie, Clara-a lie, a lie, a lie ! Once toward morning, the German injected more morphineg then he slept heavily until daybreak. The gray light of the dawn crept in through the window of a cabin in a devastated part of Flanders and touched the eyelids of one Scotty Blake, of the Third Canadian Reserves. Scotty awoke to find a strong aroma of coffee filling the room. This refreshed him somewhat, but he was very weak, and the blood-soaked bandages were oppressive. He saw his newly-made friend leaning over a small fire boiling coffee in a pan. The German turned, and smiled when he saw his prisoner was awake. This will brace you up, he promised, shifting his position by the i-ire so that he might see Scotty. Do you know there is something about a day like this that reminds me of Missouri? I don't know whether it is the snap in the air or just the cold, gray look everything has. Say, returned Scotty, that was just exactly what I was thinking as I looked out there. Coincidence, isn't it? How I remember those winter days! Wait a minute-1et's see-twenty-second, twenty-third, twenty- fourth-by George,-Merry Christmas! To-day's Christmas-this is Christmas morning! The German stepped over to the cot and grasped Scotty's hand. Scotty thought for a moment. Yep, you're right-it's Christmas morning, his forced smile quickly vanishing. I wonder what they're doing back home right now! I suspect they're all sitting about the Christmas tree giving out the presents. There was a catch in his voice as he said this and he turned his face down to the cot. The German turned to the window and stared out across the plain. He said nothing. He, too, was thinking of Missouri, and a snow-covered 16

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..-,'f:-.:7-'- -ggnifi A L-sg. -J 15- f,f Y df.: . 2542 -13.1-'-f,3T ,le s-.L-PES. around. Through a small window he could see that it had stopped snow- ing. He gazed out at a patch of clear, cold sky. Gradually it dawned upon him that he was in a strange room. Had he been found by the Red Cross, or, perhaps, was he taken prisoner by the Boches? Slowly turning his head toward the center af the cabin, he saw, lying at the foot of his cot, a man in German uniform. Scotty's heart sank. ' The man stirred, and lifting himself on his elbow, looked up. Cold 9 he asked, noticing the shiver that passed over Scotty. Nope, Iim O. K.-say, is this a prison camp, or what P For some reason or other, Scotty liked the looks of this big, broad-shouldered, clean-cut fellow. The Boche was getting up now, taking off his coat with the evident intention of giving it to his charge. ' Aw, keep your coat. Sure enough, I'm not v-very c-cold. The German said nothing, but after throwing his heavy, warm coat over Scotty, drew up a box and sat down beside him, leaning his elbows on his knees. In a minute he began to speak in good, unbroken English: Never mind just where you are. Here-take a drink of this, you look weak. Scotty did as he was bid, while the German reachedover to his knapsack and took out a piece of dark bread and a small can of meat, which he opened and dumped out on a little tin plate. This is not quite so good as they usually give you Englishmen, is it? he asked with a smile, proffering the food to Scotty. Say, Fritz, don't call me an Englishman! returned Scotty with heatg 'Tm an American-born in the State of Missouri, U. S. A. Well, for God's sake-say- are you telling me right? he added suspiciously. ' Scotty looked up. The German seemed to be all aquiver with excitement. You don't think I look in any condition to be 'kidding' you, do you, Fritz? The German smiled. By the way, where did you learn to speak English as you do? Do they teach that over in your country along with destruction of hospitals, the murder of women and the making of those infernal Krupp guns ? The German winced, then laying his huge hand upon Scotty's shoulder, he exclaimed, Why, man, I was born in the very state you come from. My brother, my sisters-all of them-are living to-day in St. Louis. You see, my folks were German, but I was born in Americag was over here visiting when the war came, was rushed to the front. It certainly is good to see someone from America. That's one country I d never fight against. ' ' Scottyis surprise showed upon his face. He leaned over and thrust out his hand. Put 'er there, friend, I want to shake the hand of a real man. Scotty leaned too far. His knee twitched, and the intense pain of it caused him to emit a low groan. His breath was comingfaster. He felt himself growing weaker. 15

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.,-,K-1--.,f - -3-W' YQ, -1 ,fag - A ' 5-1--1gL:, -g-3' -rff-Y-'-T37 cottage he had learned to love. Well, we'll be men-Americans, any- way-even though we can't enjoygour Christmas at home. Let us pray to the Almighty that we may be home for the next Christmas that comes around. The sound of marching feet came from without. A gruff voice called a command. The door opened. A German officer and two pri- vates entered. The oflicer glanced at Fritz. Your prisoner? Yes, sir, answered Fritz. Leg shattered. A cold chill shot through Scotty. He turned to the window wearily and a sense of hopelessness came over him. Bring him out! commanded the officer sharply. Fritz protested in German, pointing to Scotty's bandaged leg. The officer smiled ironically. Bring him out! he snapped, speaking to the two soldiers who had entered with him. Then to Fritz: Our division is to withdraw at once. Our movements cannot be hampered with prisoners. Orders have been issued to shoot all captured men. You will immediately carry out this command. Shoot your prisoner! Fritz stood motionless. The command was not repeated. Slowly the officer drew an automatic, then lifting his arm and directing it at the American, he grunted, You die. Scotty understood now, but was helpless. Shoot, you-coward! he hissed, clenching his teeth and looking steadily into the muzzle of the revolver. But partly through love and partly through anger, Fritz interposed, arresting the ofI'icer's arm. A struggle ensued. The two soldiers holding Scotty dropped him and rushed upon Fritz who sank down, bayoneted by a fellow-soldier. Scotty's eyes blazed with hatred. He cursed and groaned as he dragged himself io his feet. The bandages about the wounded leg turned bright crimson. He clenched his teeth and hopped forward. To sink his lingers into the throat of that fiend! But to once feel the hot blood of this creature warm his hands and he would be content to die. His opponent did not hesitate, but calmly raised his gun and shot into Scotty's body. The body wavered for an instant, then crumpled up in a heap on the ground. In a little one-street town in Missouri, Scotty's mother called the little family to the Christmas dinner. When they had bowed their heads, she prayed- Oh, great and merciful Father, we thank Thee for these blessings, May Thy will be done on earth as it is in Heaven. -Harold F. Lee, 7. 17