Stuyvesant High School - Indicator Yearbook (New York, NY)

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TI-IE INDICATOR in stature that from a distance it was impossible to tell the difference between them. Qnce I gleaned from an overheard remark that, tho Fournier had openly taunted him, Pierre refused to strike back. It was then I first asked myself: Was this due to a natural reticence, finally to be overcome, or was it rank cowardice? :ie :lc wk rl: Ik ak Then came that hideous night which shall never leave my memory. No Mans Land was hushed to an uncanny stillnessg only the groans of a dying lad, calling in vain for his mother, interrupted the heavy silence. From my position behind the trench parapet I could see the spurts of flame from a Boche machine gun, as it tried to locate him. The enemy had stopped sending up his Hares, but the intermittent light- ning Hashes of a rapidly approaching storm lit the scene with a ghastly sharp- ness. A fresheningqwind also heralded the imminent tempest, bringing with it the sickening stench of carrion. As a hnal touch of weirdness could be heard the distant rumbling of thunder slowly but gradually gaining in volume. I turned about to see how my men were faring. Their nerves had been severely overwrought during the past week by repeated night attacks and I was already anxious for relief from the rear. Too frightened to go to their dugout they sat huddled together on the firestep murmuring some half-forgotten prayers. In a towering rage I accosted them. So this is the type of soldiers France must depend upon! Men who cringe with fear because of a peal of thunder or a flash of lightning! 'iPardon Lieutenant Dupont, one of them ventured in reply, but have you not heard it? Yes, I laughed scornfully, 'fthe storm? No, Monsieur, he answered in a hoarse whisper and pointed far out beyond our trenches. Listen! Good God! My blood ran cold and an irre- pressible shudder shook my body. It was the ominous hooting of an owl ghoulishly flitting over No Man's Land. With an effort I mastered myself. Enough of this superstitious folly, I cried, there is a raid planned for to-night. Eleven of you are here, but only six are needed. Who will volunteer? Without a word five figures instantly stepped forward. Though the dark- ness made their features very indistinct, a timely streak of lightning was sufficient to tell me that one of the men was Henri Fournier. I watched the latter carefully as he strode over to a seated figure at one edge of the group, - a figure that I had no difficulty in recognizing as my own brother. ' 26

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I' THE cowfxao By Ralph Alan Freed Poi che il passato non si puo dirfare -Tansillo fI3or what is past can never be undonej I I-IE day is ebbing. From my cot I can see the sinking sun far off in the West, a great ball of fire. The bleak shell-torn landscape before me is bathed in a bloody radiance. A crimson shaft of light strikes the paper upon which I am writing. It recalls to me my terribleqpast, the awful agonies and sorrows I have endured. For have I not wallowed in the gore of my fellow beings? I-las blood not covered me until I was well nigh unrecognizable7 I-las it not caked my face and blinded my eyes? I-Ias it not even rotted the very clothes which -covered me 7 Oh, I-Iorror of I-Iorrors! Must I always be confronted with that fearful apparition? All day has she stood here by my bedside, those farewell words upon her lips. Even now, I dare not look up to meet that accusing gaze. An insatiable thirst is burning my throat and my head is wracked with everlast- ing pain. Will the end never come? I hear her again fthere is quiet in the next wardj - Ch, God! Why doesn't she speak lower i- the whole place will know. i'Remember Louis, he is my youngest. I-Ie means everything in the world to me. Watch over him as you would a child. for you are both his brother and superior officer. I-Ieaven bear witness! how I cared for him. If we were behind the lines, his squad had always the best billet, if at the front, the dryest section and most comfortable dugout. Yet. in spite of all I did for him, it was not difficult to perceive from the very outset that Pierre was never destined to be a soldier. It seemed as if he were possessed of a delicate nature which could withstand neither the sight of blood nor the rough jests of his comrades. And then, worst of all, Pierre aroused the enmity of I-Ienri Fournier, another private in my company. I-Iow it began I never could Hnd out, but I-Ienri always looked at him with the eyes of a panther about to spring upon his prey. They were at any rate an equal match for each otherg the same height, the same breadth of shoulder and the same suppleness of body. In fact even tho their features were totally dissimilar, the two were so alike 25

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l TI-IE COWARD Then it was true after all. The question I had turned over in my mind so often was at last answered. Pierre was a coward! Fournier bent over him and with a low contemptuous laugh murmured something too low for me to hear. Pierre stiffened abruptly, and rising, joined the party with a curt salute. Now that the desired six had been obtained I snapped outi En avant Marche! and took the lead. In single file we plodded thru the thick mire of the trench. Finally the last outpost was reached and our cavalcade, crawling now on all fours, moved with utmost caution. Worst of all the storm was about to break. Terrihc peals of thunder shook the earth and dazzling flashes of lightning uncovered the darkness from the faces of the dead. Once my hand touched something soft and slimy. With a terrible sensation of horror I shrunk from what proved to be a putrefying mass of Hesh. Suddenly the shrill cry of the owl burst upon us, unnerving the men completely. One poor fellow rushed forward wildly imploring me not to go further. At last, realizing that a successful raid under these circumstances was impossible, I ordered the men to go back in twos, counting from the rear. Each pair was to take another trail in order to avoid detection. But as I watched them make off, imagine my horror when I observed that I-Ienri Fournier and Pierre had been destined to be paired off together. I-Iowever, It was impossible for me to prevent their going back alone, because of the gossip that such an act of intervention on my part would cause. It was sufficient for me alone to know that Pierre was a coward. Therefore I marked the course the two had taken and, after making sure the others were well on their way, I followed in the footsteps of these mortal enemies. Pierre was, of course, a coward,-that I had decided. I-Iad he not been taunted openly and had he not refused to strike back? I knew that this was not due to physical incapability, but because he lacked moral stamina. And then again were it not for the goading of Henri Fournier, Pierre certainly would not have joined the raiding party. With these thoughts uppermost in my mind, I crept in their wake. Again At last I found them. Disclosed by a vivid streak of fire were two familiar Figures grappling below me in the hollow of a huge shell-crater, On the opposite brink was a lone spectator, an enormous black owl, perched on a decaying orpse and raving madly. 27 I again I stumbled into ditches or fell headlong over some mangled body.