University of Santa Clara - Redwood Yearbook (Santa Clara, CA)

Page 15 text:

THE REDWOOD strike at each Hitting shadow, knowing not whether it were friend or foe. Jack was blinded to all else, save the Boche he had encountered. He grew aware of the fact that the fierce on- slaught of his companions was carry- ing the Germans back. To Jack it was all thrilling, incomparable, and he eag- erly pushed on flushed with his first taste of victory. But suddenly a thund- erous crash halted him. A weird ring- ing sounded in his ears, his knees grew weak, his eyes were dimmed even to the white mantle of snow about, he falter- ed, stumbled forward and then plunged headlong into a shell hole, unconscious. Day dawned crisp and clear. All was quiet amid the hovering phantoms of death and the unspeakable. In the shell crater a young German, indescrib- ably jumbled moved ever so slightly. He groaned as he straightened and sat up, gazing about bewildered. Beside him lay a body straight and supple ; the features clear-cut and clean, a mere youth like himself. A boy ' s face with frank and fearless brow looked at him. There was no malice there, only shocked surprise. The German was deeply im- pressed. This is not one of the brutes we ' re fighting against ! ' ' His thoughts were uttered in perfect English. Where are the heartless, cruel terrors, he continued, we had to kill for our self- preservation. He gazed around in search of them. That unmalicious, kind- ly face disproved all his superiors had drummed into him. Has it come to this? he groaned, has all my education in Europe ' s best schools, but taught me how to kill, to maim and to wound? There were tears in his eyes and he shook with resentment. From an inner pocket of his blouse he drew a picture, the only thing that could console him. It was a woman with kindly eyes. Scrawled beneath the portrait was the word, Mother . He kissed it and fondled it like a mother would a babe, and he wept in his anguish. For who in time of trou- ble or doubt or grief will not seek his mother for advice or soothing words ? Ah, father, why in your love of militarism have you deprived me of a mother ' s companionship; her tender rearing and her loving care? It ' s made me a merciless murderer. For the moment he hesitated; a burning rage filled him. I never believed your side aright, but you forced me into it. There was wailing in his tone. But the body beside him appeared to move. Instinctively he felt for life. There was a faint thumping of the heart, hardly perceptible, but there was life. His fingers met a piece of cardboard. He pulled it from the coat pocket. It Avas a picture — a picture of a woman. To Jack from Mother , was inscribed beneath. Well, that ' s strange! he exclaimed in surprise, comparing it with his own. The similarity was unmistakable. Why — why, they ' re the same! In a daze he began to ponder. From

Page 14 text:

THE REDWOOD he assumed his position at the loophole in the sand-bag parapet. The night filled with so much driving snow had become less penetrable than the dark- ness itself. Only that shifting while wall met his gaze. Even the perennial roar of shrieking shells had ceased. The feeling of something sinister and uncanny, something vast and mighty came over him. Man had made war for ages but never before on such a huge scale. Then suddenly a blinding white glare cut through the gloom. The blaze played for a few minutes over the trenches, sweeping to right and left and back again, dying away at a far distant point. After it came the same white gloom and deep silence. To the watchers along the line this betokened but one necessity and that to prepare for a massed attack. But the storm was now letting up and with its abatement came an order for volunteers to go over the top, on listening duty. To Jack this afforded a novelty too good to let by and he was lured by the thought of its romantic danger. That their persons might blend the more perfectly with the surrounding snows, fifty grimly determined men, shroudded in white, clambered out of the trenches into No Man ' s Land. All was still and they advanced rap- idly fifty yards or more. Almost at the same instant, warned by a trail of sparks rising in a long arc from the German trenches, the little party dropped flat and lay moveless. The star-rocket paled and winked out in mid-air. Jack noticed in the flare that the weary land was flecked with what he concluded to be poor, dead, broken bodies of men who had fallen days or months, hours or weeks before in the grim contests that were waged for a few yards of that debatable char- nel ground. Two lay so close to him that he could have touched eit her by slightly moving his hand. But he was at pains to do nothing of the sort; he desired to clench his teeth against their chattering, even to hold his breath and regretted that he might not mute the thumping of his heart. In a semi-crouching posture the troupe slipped forward again, ready to flatten themselves to earth when an- other trail of sky-spearing sparks warned them. Then a strange coinci- dence occurred. With the brave little band from the British side, there also ventured out into that waste of littered and inde- scribable abominations a listening par- ty of Germans. Thus had Fate de- cided. In the middle of that desolation they met. They needed no urging; they al- most flew to their task. Foe met foe, amid the din of clashing bayonet. Shrieks of the dying pierced the start- led night ; a mortally wounded comrade here, a dying foe there and all muffled to insignificance by the rasps of strik- ing steel. Neither side dared fire, lest in doing so they mow down their own men. Only the mere handful must

Page 16 text:

10 THE REDWOOD the dim past he recalled the inquisi- tiveness with which he had pestered his father to learn more about his mother, why was she not with them, where did she live, why could he not write to the brother he yearned to see. But ever that arrogant parent dispelled these questions from his mind. Jack, he returned, brother of mine, you ' ve awakened me to my sense of duty. And he raised the supine form in his arms, kissed those parched lips and stroked gently the unconscious brow, with a feeling and tenderness that were heartfelt. IV The base hospital was filled. Every- where scurried those little immaculate- ly habited heroines, the red cross nurses caring for, resuscitating their heroes who had returned from the glor- ious fight, bleeding and torn and wounded. Madamoiselle, said one of the attending doctors gravely, prepare this man for operation. His condition is serious. And he pointed to a wounded man whose face was wrapped in a maze of bandages. The wounded groaned and muttered as if in a delirium. Tenderly the lit- tle nurse stroked the fevered brow, staring intently upon the partly un- covered face. She started, then drew closer for a confirmation. Yes, it is he, she whispererd. Jack, Jack, speak to me. And she shook him gently. The unconscious form moved. Slow- ly he opened his eyes, and passed a bruised hand across his forehead, for there was pain there, excruciating pain. Jack, she pleaded, don ' t you know me? Don ' t you remember? He stared into the little face. A smile of recognition flitted over his emaciated features. Miss Tevis, he whispered. And he relapsed again into insensibility. Several days passed and with their passing Jack came out of a successful operation. Miss Tevis, he said one bright sun- ny morning, tell me how I came into this paradise, and — with such a bright little angel to hasten along my recov- ery. She smiled. It might excite you too much, she answered, and, be- sides the Doctor says you are to remain perfectly quiet at least another day. There was a slight trace of feminine in- tuition in this reply. Ah, please, Miss Tevis, he pleaded, I ' ll promise not — No, Jack, she interrupted, call me Alice, it sounds more friendly, more like our trip across. ' ' 0. K. with me, Alice. I am your humble servant. She drew a chair close to his side. Jack was impressed by her charm and grace. How did I get away alive from No Man ' s Land? Did the attack prove successful?