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Newspaper Page Text
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"They have shot my husband
"But, Dora," I shout to her anx
iously for it suddenly flashes upon
me that she is ill "why, here I am!
Don't you know me any more?"
But she shakesier head, and turns
away from me comfortless, and
passes me by like a stranger.
"Dora!" I shout aloud, "Dora!"
and stretch out my arms' toward the
vanishing figure. A sob chokes my
Then I start and am sitting up in
bed, resting on my elbow. Through
the window sounds the long-drawn
reveille. Dawn is peeping through
So I did nod off after all, and did
not have a pleasant dream. But I
have no time to be grumpy over it,
for footsteps are ringing along the
corridor. Hobnail boots clatter across
the floor. The door is flung open.
"Turn out!" a cheery voice shouts
It is the sergeant on duty. By this
time he has already reached the next
door. And sleepy figures are rising
from their cots, yawning and stretch
ing their arms; are turning out and
slipping, shivering with cold, into
their clothes. Yawning, they stretch
their limbs and flap their arms until
the second, more welcome morning
signal, "Breakfast rations," lends life
and animation to fasting men.
We are already drawn up in the
barrack-yard in service kit. We have
stacked our rifles and have fallen
out No one thinks of kit inspection
or anything of that kind today.
Everything is now being pushed on at
"Stand by your packs!"
How heavy the full knapsacks
weigh in one's hands, and yet as soon
as it is settled in the small of your
back you do not notice it so very
"Stand by arms!"
As if we "were marching out for
parade, the captain's orders sound as
crisp as that We shoulder arms as
smartly as if we were moving out on
"Form sections ! Right about turn !
And we swing around smartly in
four at the command.
"Fifth, sixth, seventh, eighth com
pany!" shouts the Major, who has
pulled up in the middle of the yard.
We are the eighth company, and
are following on the heels of the
seventh. The gates of the barrack
yard are open. We are marching)ut
Our legs mark time on the pavement
of the street in the goose-step of
"March at ease!"
And the muscles of our legs relax
and advance at more natural gait
The streets are full of people.
They are lining the pavement on
both sides and watching us march
past Though it is still quite an
early hour of the morning, yet the
whole town is up and about They
weren't able to stay abed. They
wanted to see the soldiers march out
And they welcome us with their
eyes and wave their hands to us.
A 15-year-old lad is running along
beside us. His brother is marching
in our file.
"Mother sends you her love; she
says she is feeling better again but
she wasn' well enough to get up yet,
else she'd have come with me this
morning but I was to give you this
And the lad stretches his open hand
out to his brother, and tries to hand
him something wrapped up in paper
money! But the elder brother
waves It aside.
"Put it away. Tell her I said she
was to spend it on herself, and to
look after herself properly, and be
well when we come back again." .
The drums and fifes strike up
briskly, and play a merry march.
Some one or other, somewhere in
the crowd, sets -up a loud, crowing
sort of cheer.