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"BACK FROM HELL' 
 
SAMUEL CRANSTON BENSON 
 
 Who went to the war, a pacifist, but returned a fighting 
 American. 
 
"Back From Hell 
 
 99 
 
 BY 
 
 SAMUEL CRANSTON BENSON 
 
 Illustrated 
 
 CHICAGO 
 
 A. C. McCLURG & CO. 
 1918 
 

 Copyright 
 
 A. C. McClurg & Co. 
 
 1918 
 
 Published September, 1918 
 
 Copyrighted in Great Britain 
 
 F. HALL PRINTING COMPANY, CHICASO 
 
to 
 
 dl$Ip Wife 
 
 QPOr^QQ 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 I A Former Pacifist i 
 
 II Red Tape in Traveling 9 
 
 III How I Got into the Service .... 15 
 
 IV A Unit in Its Infancy 20 
 
 V The Northwest Front — Mud ! ... 25 
 
 VI A Weird Night 30 
 
 VII The Red Cross 36 
 
 VIII When France Was First "Gassed" . . 42 
 
 IX When Jacques "Went West" . ... 47 
 
 X "Trench Nightmare" 51 
 
 XI Calm Before a Storm 56 
 
 XII If an Ambulance Could Speak .... 60 
 
 XIII A Ticklish Attack 64 
 
 XIV The Death of a Comrade 67 
 
 XV On an Old Battle Ground 74 
 
 XVI The Verdun Attack — Life and Death . 79 
 
 XVII Barrage, or Curtain Fire 93 
 
 XVIII The Ragpicker 106 
 
 XIX Camouflage ii2 
 
 XX The Heroism of the Wounded . . .116 
 
 XXI The Treacherous "German Souvenir" . 123 
 
 XXII The Nigger's Nose 128 
 
 XXIII Getting By the Consuls ...... 132 
 
Contents 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 XXIV A Close Shave 145 
 
 XXV Meeting Brand Whitlock 148 
 
 XXVI My Maps of Belgium 151 
 
 XXVII The "Cat and Mouse" Game . . . .156 
 
 XXVIII Shadowed at Liege 159 
 
 XXIX Results of'Trightfulness" 163 
 
 XXX My Mental Processes 168 
 
 XXXI A Night in Lou vain 174 
 
 XXXII Ruin and Death 178 
 
 XXXIII In the Palace of the King 187 
 
 XXXIV The Kaiser's Envy 190 
 
 XXXV Caught by the Huns and Tried as a Spy 196 
 
 XXXVI Threatened with Crucifixion .... 204 
 
 XXXVII My Escape and Return to Good Old 
 
 France aio 
 
 XXXVIII No Man's Land 215 
 
 XXXIX Jean and "Frenchie" 223 
 
 XL The Psychology of France 228 
 
 XLI The Contagious Spirit of Sacrifice . . 233 
 
 XLII The Heritage of Hate 238 
 
 XLIII "Back From Hell" 243 
 
ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Samuel Cranston Benson Frontispiece 
 
 American Ambulance Headquarters, Neuilly, France 22 
 Ambulance Ready to Leave for the Front .... 22 
 An American Woman Caring for a Little Wounded 
 
 French Child 38 
 
 An American Ambulance Ready for Duty .... 60 
 American Ambulances on the Road to the Front . . 80 
 Allied Troops Charging Through Barbed-Wire 
 
 Entanglements 102 
 
 A Dressing Station Set Up on Newly Captured 
 
 Ground I20 
 
 A Hurry Call 134 
 
 "Jumbo," the Biggest Ambulance on the Western 
 
 Front 134 
 
 The Burning of a French Field Hospital . . . . 1 70 
 Ambulance Men Working Over a "Gassed" Soldier 225 
 Destruction of a French Hospital by a German Bomb 238 
 American Hospital at Neuilly Transferred to General 
 
 Pershing 246 
 
"Back From Hell 
 
 99 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 A FORMER PACIFIST 
 
 WHEN the old Chicago cut loose from her 
 moorings in an Atlantic port it was a red 
 letter day for me. She was a good sized craft, 
 of the French Line, and was to carry a lot of 
 other Americans, besides myself, from the United 
 States to France. We were all in a spirit of 
 expectancy, mingled perhaps with sadness, for we 
 were going over to see and have a hand in the 
 most stupendous event of history, the Great War. 
 Although many different motives actuated us, 
 our destination was the same, and all of us would 
 soon be within striking distance of the scene of 
 action. Some of those on board were going pri- 
 marily from a sense of duty and gratitude to the 
 great European Republic, whose men had come 
 over here in '76 to help America kick off the chains 
 which George in had welded on her ankles, and 
 secondarily, because they wanted to kill a few of 
 the Germans whom they right well hated. 
 
^'Back From Hell 
 
 Others were going, and made no bones about 
 saying so, because they were natural born soldiers 
 of fortune and were inclined to go anywhere that 
 action and excitement were likely to be found. 
 A few were to be mere onlookers who were 
 crossing the sea as students of a great world move- 
 ment, who, from an economic or social point of 
 view, would tabulate in a cold and matter-of-course 
 way, the facts which they observed and the con- 
 clusions to which they came. 
 
 I belonged to neither of these classes. I was 
 an innocent idealist, though soon, alas, to be dis- 
 illusioned. I had resigned a comfortable pastor- 
 ate in order to go over and, as I conceived of it, 
 relieve the pain and soothe the fevered brow of 
 those who were in suffering, irrespective of 
 whether they were Allies or Germans, and thus 
 help usher in a world Utopia. 
 
 I had always taken myself rather too seriously 
 at home, and thought I was a broad-visioned per- 
 son whose universality of mind elevated me to 
 a position where I could see beyond provincial 
 boundary lines, and overlook such things as race 
 and creed and national ideals, thinking of all men 
 as made in the image of God, and all destined 
 for one great goal which was the Brotherhood 
 
A Former Pacifist 
 
 of Man, where all would be happy, and each 
 would deal justly and kindly with his neighbor. 
 
 It Is a natural tendency, I suppose, of most 
 ministers to be optimistic about the ultimate out- 
 come of the human race, and I was one of this 
 class. I had buttoned my long frock coat close about 
 my collar and rubbed my hands in that familiar, 
 good-natured way, saying that sometime national 
 prejudices would be wiped out and the people of 
 the various countries would come to see each 
 other's viewpoints, and then their differences 
 would vanish away. I hadn't yet seen the German 
 at his worst. The time would come, I thought, 
 when all would fraternize as God Intended that 
 they should and this wicked rivalry and jealousy 
 would cease. 
 
 It seemed to me that even my fellow-Ameri- 
 cans, along with the French and other nations, 
 were too narrow In their views of things, and that, 
 they were equally guilty with the Germans In 
 falling or refusing to understand the minds of 
 other people. The men who had urged inter- 
 vention in Mexico and intervention in Europe, I 
 took It, were men who were engaged in manu- 
 facturing munitions, or who were directly Inter- 
 ested In war from a business point of view. They 
 
Back From Heir' 
 
 wanted dollars. A part of my philosophy was 
 that God would bring about a settlement of all 
 these conflicts In His own good time, and we need 
 not worry about it. Another part of my philos- 
 ophy, so it happened, was pacifism. I was a 
 great admirer of William Jennings Bryan, and 
 I thought his peace teaching was — well — great 
 stuff I I had interpreted the life and teaching of 
 Jesus as being unalterably opposed to violence 
 of any kind. No matter what the circumstance, 
 bloodshed could not be justified. " Resist not 
 evir* was His ideal and, therefore, it should be 
 mine also, and as I look at it now, I guess I went 
 even further than He did, in my theories at any 
 rate. For He did use violence occasionally, when 
 it was necessary. 
 
 " If a man smite thee on one cheek, turn the 
 other also," was my motto, and I did not believe 
 in striking back. Tolstoi, with his doctrine of 
 nonresistance, from whom Mr. Bryan received 
 large Influence, as he once told me, was my Ideal 
 man, and the only real Christian since Jesus. 
 
 I had also said there would never be another 
 war; a war of any size. I knew, of course, that 
 there had always been crusades in history, and 
 even the most religious people had killed each 
 
A Former Pacifist 
 
 other by thousands, and had often made the 
 claim that God had told them to do so, but 
 I considered them to have been misguided fa- 
 natics of an outgrown age who may have thought 
 they were doing right, but who were in reality 
 committing murder and breaking God's great 
 law. 
 
 My father had also been a minister, and he 
 was so meek and peaceful that he held one 
 pastorate for a quarter of a century, a thing 
 which, by the way, I doubt If I shall ever do! 
 He was Inclined to be a bit pessimistic and to 
 lament the heartless struggle which takes place 
 all through nature and human life, and he was 
 extremely pacific. I inherited the same traits. My 
 mother also had been a peace-loving woman, but 
 she believed in justice, and I think I Inherited 
 from her my aggressive disposition. I was such 
 a pacifist that I was militant In It and some- 
 times alienated even my admirers by my doc- 
 trine. 
 
 However, after Europe went to war I could 
 see the storm gathering In the United States, and 
 I looked upon It with feelings of fear and fore- 
 boding. I was down In the depths. I felt that 
 "over there" they were already, and over here 
 
Back From Hell 
 
 it was likely that we soon would be violating 
 God's commandment, 
 
 "THOU SHALT NOT KILL." 
 
 I did not believe in killing. I had lectured 
 with David Starr Jordan and spoken with Mr- 
 Bryan. I hated war. As a minister of the gospel 
 my natural inclination was to preach gentle for- 
 giveness and tender mercy, and how I did preach 
 it I I was for peace at any price. I preached 
 peace in my church and I preached it on the 
 street. I even went so far as to rent halls and 
 denounce the doctrine of military preparedness 
 as a dangerous and vicious propaganda. 
 
 I declared with all my power that America ,, 
 ought to keep herself out of this war and that 
 she ought to suffer any indignity rather than take 
 up the sword and slay other people. I said that 
 was murder. While not approving of the sink- 
 ing of the merchant ships, yet I said that those 
 people who traveled on belligerent vessels did, 
 so at their own risk and that the United States 
 ought not to bring blood upon her hands because 
 others had done so. I had no antipathy toward 
 the German people. I liked them. I had shown 
 this by studying German in college as my only fof- 
 
A Former Pacifist 
 
 eign language. I joined the " Deutscher Verein" 
 as my only fraternity, and when I went abroad to 
 study, It was a German university that I sought. 
 
 I knew of course that Germany's military system 
 was a despotic one and that her own people were 
 virtually slaves to the government. But above all 
 I cried " Peace for the United States I '' So when I 
 resigned my pulpit in Patton, Pa., and told my con- 
 gregation that I was going to the scene of war In 
 Belgium, they were astonished beyond measure. I 
 hastened to reassure them, however, that the pur- 
 pose of my going was not to fight, but rather to re- 
 lieve distress and carry In the wounded. I had felt 
 a call to take up this task, and at this they became 
 somewhat more reconciled. So In a few weeks' 
 time I was on my way. 
 
 When I embarked upon that great ship In New 
 York I was alone. And I want to tell you if you 
 have never gone down the long pier and walked In 
 solitude up the gangplank of a transatlantic liner 
 you cannot Imagine the feeling of loneliness I had. 
 Especially strong was this feeling because that ship 
 was to take me to the hell of a world war and I 
 did not know to what else. As we put off and 
 glided down by that old Statue of Liberty, leaving 
 it in the distance, I began to cry, for I didn't know 
 
8 ''Back From Heir 
 
 whether I should ever see it again. It seemed as if 
 I had said good-bye to my last friend. Many of the 
 people aboard were foreigners and I suppose I 
 looked a pathetic figure as I stood there. I know I 
 felt like one. 
 
 That night the lights were doused and we be- 
 gan to realize that things were serious. When 
 great ships sail in darkness there is something 
 wrong. The ensuing voyage lasted ten days and 
 when I was not walking the decks those days I 
 used to lie in my berth and look out the porthole 
 and often wonder what was ahead for me. \ 
 
 After a week and a half on the ocean we finally j 
 landed on the coast of France. Meanwhile I had \ 
 made several acquaintances, mainly with French 
 people, and I had begun to think I had learned 
 their language. A rude awakening was in store 
 for me before I had been in France an hour I 
 
CHAPTER II 
 
 RED TAPE IN TRAVELING 
 
 AS WE bumped into the dock at Havre I was 
 given my first scare. I was taken in charge 
 by a French soldier who wore a red and blue cap, a 
 huge overcoat with the corners buttoned back, and 
 red trousers with the lower parts stuck in his boots. 
 These things, however, did not have any particular 
 interest for me; not that I was an indifferent on- 
 looker by any means, but the thing I was interested 
 in was on the end of his rifle; the big shining steel 
 bayonet, which to me had a most vicious aspect. 
 It was sixteen inches long but I thought it looked 
 like sixteen feet. 
 
 Without losing any time this mian took me over 
 to the Registration Department, where another 
 man asked me a lot of fool questions, scanned my 
 passport, and finally gave me a permit of some 
 kind or other. I then asked him what time the 
 train went to Paris. "One minute," he said in 
 French. I thought I'd have to hustle, but he was 
 very deliberate. He filled out a printed blank, 
 
 9 
 
lo ''Back From Hell'' 
 
 taking five minutes to do so and then handed it to 
 me, saying in English, *^Zis will give you ze per- 
 mission to inquire what time ze train goes to 
 Parees.'' From that moment on my stay in Eu- 
 rope, as I now look back upon it, was one continu- 
 ous performance of asking for, and getting, or 
 being refused, permits to go somewhere or to 
 come somewhere or to remain somewhere. 
 
 Now time, money, and patience were all limited 
 assets with me, but the European officials did not 
 seem to realize this or else were very inconsiderate. 
 They wasted half my time, extracted at least two- 
 thirds of my money, and absolutely exhausted my 
 patience. At risk of having my name instantly 
 recommended for membership in the Ananias 
 Club, I will defiantly state that I had to have five 
 different kinds of papers on my person to allow me 
 to start for Paris, to get to Paris, to remain In 
 Paris, to be Identified In Paris, and to drive an 
 automobile In Paris. If I slipped a cog anywhere 
 I was lost. They say a chain Is no stronger than 
 Its weakest link, and I had to possess every link 
 In this chain of paper. 
 
 I remember one fellow who had lost his per- 
 mit to come to Paris. When he passed his ex- 
 amination for a driver's license, the old fossil in 
 
 I 
 
Red Tape in Traveling 1 1 
 
 charge would not give it to him. As I understood 
 the matter, the theory was that he could not pos- 
 sibly be in Paris at the time as he could show no 
 paper allowing him to come. And let me say in 
 passing, some of these papers come high. I have 
 figured it all up many times, and as near as I can 
 estimate, the papers, all told, which I had to take 
 out during my European stay, set me back about 
 fifty pounds, five shillings and four pence, or in 
 the neighborhood of two hundred and fifty dollars. 
 It seemed as though every time I turned around 
 some fellow was extending to me a handful of 
 papers and an empty palm. But relieving me of 
 money was not all. The red tape connected with 
 it was what worried me most. Before I could re- 
 ceive the particular permit I wanted, I usually had 
 to take another paper over to another man and 
 swear to a lot of things and get his O. K. upon it. 
 This went hard with me because Fm not used to 
 swearing. Tm a preacher. 
 
 In my experience the application was a more 
 formidable thing than the permit itself, and then 
 after I finally received the permit I had to take it 
 down to the Prefect of Police and have it regis- 
 tered before evening. If this was neglected my 
 permit was invalidated and the whole perform- 
 
12 ''Back From Heir' 
 
 ance had to be gone over again next day. After 
 the permit was registered I had to bring back the 
 voucher of registration and deposit It with the man 
 who Issued the permit. 
 
 The reason for all this Is that every nation in 
 the war takes It for granted that every foreigner 
 is a spy, until he Is proved not to be, and every na- 
 tion not In the war thinks all visitors are trying to 
 get them to violate their neutrality and thus get 
 them into the war. I will admit, however, that deal- 
 ing with neutral diplomats Is a lot easier than deal- 
 ing with the belligerents. 
 
 Then also you have to remember a great many 
 passwords. If you go out of Paris you are given a 
 password, after proving your right to receive the 
 same, and you can't get in again until you give it. 
 If you happen to go to another town or city on the 
 same trip, the same thing happens, only the pass- 
 word Is different and all of them change every day. 
 So It Is not hard to Imagine something of the in- 
 tricate system which Is kept up, and the confusing 
 details which are required In order to get from one 
 place to another and back again. Of course. If you 
 absolutely forget or lose the password, there are 
 other alternatives but they require a tremendous 
 lot of red tape. You can hunt up the proper offi- 
 
Red Tape in Traveling 13 
 
 cial, wait until he is at leisure, perhaps two hours, 
 tell him about your unfortunate predicament, pre- 
 sent all your papers, and after convincing him that 
 you are entitled to the password you may receive 
 it from him if he is willing to give it to you. 
 
 I traveled in Europe before the war and it irri- 
 tated me as it does most Americans, to be com- 
 pelled incessantly to register my name and address, 
 age, occupation, place of birth, and the same de- 
 tails of my father and mother, place of entering 
 the country and length of time I had been there; 
 but this was nothing compared to the formalities 
 and the irritating requirements of the present time. 
 French officials try to be as accommodating and 
 polite as possible, but if you object to any point, 
 they tell you with a shrug of the shoulders, that 
 they must live up to the regulations and that they 
 must be very careful, as the country is full of spies 
 and peace propagandists. 
 
 If you travel at all through the country by auto- 
 mobile, you have to come to a halt at every cross- 
 road and every bridge. Patrols with rifles are sta- 
 tioned at these places and the man who tried to run 
 by one of these would be shot down instantly. You 
 are required to produce all your papers, which are 
 scanned by the guards, who, if satisfied, will then 
 
14 ''Back From Hell'' 
 
 let you drive on in peace until you come to the next 
 guarded point. If the guards are not satisfied, you 
 sheepishly turn your car around, go back to Paris, 
 get your papers rectified, or get additional ones and 
 strike out again. You often lose hours of time and, 
 not infrequently, days as well, in getting the re- 
 quired permits. You get angry at first, but it does 
 no good and you may as well quickly learn to keep 
 your temper, for when you think it all over you will 
 realize that when such a vital issue is at stake, every 
 possible precaution must be taken. 
 
CHAPTER III 
 
 HOW I GOT INTO THE SERVICE 
 
 MY FIRST formal call when I got to Paris 
 was upon Ambassador Sharp. This, how- 
 ever, was not until I had been in the city several 
 days. I had become acquainted on the ship with a 
 party of Serbians who had been mining up in Alaska 
 and were now going back to fight the Austrians. 
 They had some difficulty and delay in arranging 
 their passports, so I remained with them until they 
 got away. 
 
 When at last I called on Mr. Sharp and told 
 him I wanted to go to Belgium, he asked me why 
 I didn't stay and do relief work in France. He 
 informed me that I would not be allowed to go to 
 Belgium anyway, as the German Government had 
 already required the United States to withdraw 
 many of the consuls. He said my work was 
 needed there in France. Of course I agreed with 
 him — under the circumstances I Acting upon his 
 suggestion and with his letter of endorsement I 
 went to Neuilly and applied for work in the now 
 
 IS 
 
i6 '' Back From Heir 
 
 well-known American Ambulance. I was ac- 
 cepted almost immediately and then I carefully re- 
 moved my frock coat and folded it up. Without 
 delay I received a uniform and equipment and set 
 to work. The outfit was issued to me free, although 
 men with plenty of money had to pay for theirs. 
 I remember having my picture taken in uniform 
 and sending it to my parishioners in the States, 
 who wrote back and told me of the interest and 
 comment it caused when shown at a church social. 
 From the outset we were very busy. I was put 
 on the base or Paris squad in the beginning, as most 
 all of the new men were, temporarily, and the very 
 first night I was sent out with a Swiss Frenchman 
 to a depot at Aubervilliers, which was being used 
 as a receiving hospital. There on the floor of that 
 great building many hundreds of wounded soldiers 
 lay mutilated and suffering. Some had their jaws 
 blown off. Others had eyes or noses gone. I shall 
 never forget that dreary night. There was a cold 
 rain driving and I was soaked to the skin, but 
 there were many human beings who suffered worse 
 than I did for their country's sake. When I saw 
 one man who had been hit by a German dumdum 
 or explosive bullet, I gritted my teeth. We were 
 kept working all night transporting those poor 
 
How I Got into the Service ij 
 
 fellows in Ford ambulances from the railroad 
 station to the different hospitals, as the French 
 officers instructed. On each trip we carried three 
 lying-down cases, or if the wounded could sit up we 
 conveyed five. For some time thereafter this was 
 our main work. 
 
 But after several weeks had passed, the winter 
 began to break and with it the spring offensive 
 opened up. I was with section two of the Ambu- 
 lance, later called section Y, and a very capable 
 man from the Middle West, was in charge as 
 commander. This section had been stationed at 
 Beauvais, doing local duty mainly, but occasionally 
 working up toward the Soissons Sector and on a 
 line directly south of Ypres, afterward being trans- 
 ferred to the East. The wounded, whom we car- 
 ried, were little more than bundles of mud and rain- 
 soaked, blood-stained masses of human pulp. Most 
 of them were French soldiers, we being with the 
 French forces, but we did have also quite a num- 
 ber of British Tommies and still more Belgians. 
 I shall always think of those Belgians as such 
 plucky fellows. No matter how badly wounded 
 they were, as a rule when we talked with them, 
 and spoke about getting the "Allemands" or the 
 " Boches " or the " Kaiser " they would double up 
 
1 8 ''Back From Heir 
 
 their fists and jocularly show fight by hitting him 
 an imaginary undercut, or they would draw their 
 open hands across their throats and say, ''The 
 Kaiser Kaput!" 
 
 At first I liked the Belgians best. One night we 
 carried a Belgian soldier who had both legs and 
 both arms fractured, and every time we made a 
 move he must have suffered the tortures of hell, yet 
 never a sound came from him. In fact their 
 stoicism was remarkable; hardly ever was there 
 any groaning or complaining. 
 
 But as time went on and we became better ac- 
 quainted with the French disposition, through inti- 
 mate contact with French individuals, we liked 
 them better. At first, I had not cared much for 
 the French. I am ashamed to say it now, as it was 
 my own lack of appreciation, but when my eyes at 
 last were opened, my regard for them became high 
 and lasting. 
 
 One day after a terrible bombardment near 
 
 S , a hlesse or wounded soldier, whom we had 
 
 carried back to the hospital said, '' Comrade, I love 
 ithe Americans." I did not reply at once. He con- 
 tinued, "Do you love the French?" "Yes," I 
 said, " I have come to love them very deeply. At 
 first I did not know about it but now I do." He lay 
 
How I Got into the Service 19 
 
 very still and white, and after a moment said, " Mu- 
 tual understanding is the basis of love," and then 
 he went to sleep. He never woke up. 
 
 Many a poor mangled poilu who was just about 
 to "go West" spoke in the same strain, and I 
 came to realize that the old love for America which 
 LaFayette had kindled over a century before, still 
 lurked in the heart of France. America threw off 
 the tyrant's yoke in 1776, and France threw off the 
 despot's chains in 1789, and thirteen years is a 
 very small difference in ages between brothers, na- 
 tionally speaking. Since then both Republics have 
 made a lot of mistakes and rectified many of them, 
 but let it be said both have made marvelous rec- 
 ords in the development of democratic government 
 and they are now working and fighting side by 
 side, comrades in the cause of human liberty. 
 
CHAPTER IV 
 
 A UNIT IN ITS INFANCY 
 
 THE Story of the American Ambulance Serv- 
 ice has been written by abler pens than mine 
 and so I will give but a brief account of it. 
 
 When the war first began the idea of serving 
 France through ambulance work was con- 
 ceived by a few large-visioned Americans. The 
 plant of the fine new boys' school called the " Lycee 
 Pasteur" was turned over to these men for the 
 ambulance headquarters. The beginnings had 
 been small, Henry Ford having donated in 19 14 
 ten ambulances with which the movement started. 
 Early in the next year, however, the American Am- 
 bulance institution became attached to the French 
 forces which were in active service. The work of 
 the preceding months was quite essential in its way, 
 as its errors no doubt pointed out the path to the 
 later efficiency, and a larger number of ambulances 
 were being accumulated from week to week. The 
 first donation of machines made it possible for the 
 organization at the very beginning to participate 
 
 20 
 
A Unit in Its Infancy 21 
 
 in the transport work, and the ever Increasing num- 
 ber of cars necessitated the forming of squads in 
 the endeavor to broaden the scope of the service. 
 There were at first five ambulances In each 
 squad and these were loaned to the French forces, 
 but because the squads were so small they were 
 used by the French to supplement the regular gov- 
 ernment sections which were already in action be- 
 hind the lines. Their chief work was that of hos- 
 pital evacuation, which it was soon perceived could 
 be performed more advantageously by the heavier 
 ambulances of the sections which had been working 
 at these hospitals before. But in the early spring 
 a change was made in the organization of the 
 American service and a new man was given charge. 
 Through his Influence the French officials gave the 
 American Ambulance Service a trial on the firing 
 line. A section was dispatched to the Vosges 
 which soon gained the recognition of its com- 
 manders, who requested that It be doubled in size. 
 When this request was complied with, the section 
 moved to the front In Alsace, in connection with 
 a similar French section. Very soon after another 
 section of the same size was organized and sent to 
 Pont-a-Mousson, connected also, as the former one 
 had been, with a French section. During this time 
 
22 ''Back From Hell'' 
 
 also a squad had been stationed at Dunkirk in 
 northern France. 
 
 The American Field Service was at last a reality. 
 These three sections now began to make history 
 and demonstrated considerable usefulness to the 
 cause. The Americans in Alsace took over the 
 dressing station on the battle line, and soon found 
 themselves caring for an entire region, which be- 
 came famous for its baptism of fire. 
 
 The section at Pont-a-Mousson has an enviable 
 record. When it first went to Pont-a-Mousson the 
 French service which was already stationed there 
 was amalgamated with It. Later on this section 
 made the mountain dressing stations possible, 
 which heretofore had been quite Impossible. The 
 section at Dunkirk had been engaged In caring for 
 the wounded from air raids and from bombard- 
 ments by the Germans almost twenty miles away. 
 This section was now honored by being doubled 
 again and given work to do at several Important 
 points along the battle line, and with the French 
 army In Belgium. 
 
 All the sections now became of acknowledged 
 value and In a remarkably short period their prac- 
 tical possibilities were recognized. Wherever pos- 
 sible the French sections were speedily removed 
 
AMERICAN AMBULANCE HEADQUARTERS, 
 NEUILLY, FRANCE. 
 
 This magnificent building was its first home. 
 
 ^"^M^^y% ^M 
 
 
 
 Ifj^p 
 
 ^^a 
 
 m 
 
 AMBULANCES READY TO LEAVE FOR THE FRONT. 
 
'A Unit in Its Infancy 23 
 
 and the whole work given over to the American 
 units. No car could have been chosen for ambu- 
 lance service which was better fitted for it than the 
 Ford. The mud is the greatest problem around 
 Dunkirk, but it was no barrier to the Ford. The 
 large supply trucks at Pont-a-Mousson were out- 
 stripped by the Fords, and the slow and somewhat 
 clumsy mules In Alsace were superseded by them. 
 The drivers were largely college men from Yale, 
 Harvard, Princeton, Columbia, and other univer- 
 sities, who put great action and inspiration into 
 the service. Later on the section from Dunkirk 
 was sent up to the Aisne. The section at Pont-a- 
 Mousson went to Verdun, and that in Alsace was 
 sent over to Pont-a-Mousson. Several other sec- 
 tions were also organized and played a most im- 
 portant part in transporting the wounded of the 
 Allies. 
 
 From the very first day of mobilization it had 
 been a terrible problem for the French, who 
 needed every last man to fight the enemy, to spare 
 enough to care for those who were wounded in the 
 fighting. This is most important work, as it means 
 the getting of the wounded men into shape as 
 quickly as possible, so they can be put into the 
 fighting line again. The world knows that from 
 
24 ''Back From Heir' 
 
 the first the man power of the French Republic has 
 been strained to its capacity and the French wel- 
 comed with joy the aid which the Americans offered 
 in this direction. It released many of their own 
 men and furnished many cars which otherwise 
 they would have had to supply themselves, di- 
 verting them from the most vital points. The taxi- 
 cab army which Paris sent out in the first days of 
 the war was not equipped for ambulance work, 
 and so from that time on, for almost three years, 
 the men and ambulances from America were uti- 
 lized and welcomed with enthusiasm. 
 
 The French will never forget and certainly the 
 Americans will remember with pride the assistance 
 they were able to render in the days when the lib- 
 erty and existence of the nation hung by a patheti- 
 cally slender thread. 
 
CHAPTER V 
 
 THE NORTHWEST FRONT — MUD I 
 
 THE section which had been at Dunkirk and 
 in Flanders had some interesting experi- 
 ences. The larger part of the time the boys were 
 put up in stables and slept on straw or in the ambu- 
 lances. They had gone out in the early spring 
 and were detailed to work around Dunkirk carry- 
 ing the blesses from the freight depot to the sev- 
 eral hospitals as the French authorities directed. 
 Working In mud under air raids and long range 
 bombardments was not unusual to them. 
 
 The history of the northwest front Is a history 
 of men in mud. From Dunkirk to Verdun and 
 much farther, this ugly nightmare tears the soul. 
 [The world has heard of the mud In Flanders, long 
 ere this, and I believe this war has done more to 
 advertise the real estate of that country than any- 
 thing else could do. I suppose the people of the 
 Western Hemisphere never knew there was so 
 much mud In the world. I know I never did. And 
 Flanders Is not the only place that has It either. 
 
 *5 
 
26 ''Back From Heir 
 
 That entire front Is blessed with it extending two 
 hundred miles long and almost two feet deep. If 
 I had unlimited time I would figure up just how 
 much mud there was. We think we have mud in 
 America, Missouri boasts of most of it, and has 
 thus become proverbial. I once read of an old 
 colonel who was riding along on his horse one day 
 in Missouri during the Civil War when he saw an 
 old hat lying in the mud on the side of the road. 
 Strange to say, the hat kept revolving, first one 
 way and then the other. The colonel's curiosity 
 finally got the better of him and he dismounted 
 and went over to where the hat was lying. Giving 
 it a kick he discovered a private's head under It 
 smiling up at him graciously. *' Well, my man," 
 said the colonel, "you'll pardon me, but can I do 
 anything to help you ? You seem to be In a pretty 
 bad way." "Oh, yes," answered the private, "but 
 as for myself, I'll make out all right, for I can 
 breathe. It's not myself I'm worrying about, but 
 the horse that's under me sure Is In a bad way." 
 I thought of this story a thousand times while 
 over there, and I think I told It at least half that 
 number of times. The mud In the spring is so 
 thick that It oppresses one. It gets on your mind 
 as well as on your body. A person who only has 
 
 i 
 
The Northwest Front — Mud! 27 
 
 an occasional trip may laugh at it, but when one 
 drives through it day and night, and night and day 
 for weeks the humor of It all wears off. It be- 
 comes a mighty serious affair. In many places it 
 is thick and sticky like bread dough and piles up 
 on your wheels or feet making It almost Impossible 
 to move. The clay, or gumbo, in America cannot 
 compare with It. It Is whitish gray In color and 
 even when It Is not heavy It Is exceedingly dis- 
 agreeable. It splashes on your clothes and flies 
 in your eyes. It gets Into your ears, your nose, 
 and your hair, and not Infrequently Into your mouth 
 if you talk or laugh too much. It has a resem- 
 blance to gray paint and partakes very much of 
 Its nature. Once it gets on your clothes It is im- 
 possible to get It off and It even sticks to and stains 
 your flesh so that it requires hard scrubbing with 
 soap and hot water to remove It. Yet when It 
 splashes you In this manner It Is pleasant — com- 
 pared to the discouraging effect when it Is heavy 1 
 One day when I was going to a shop with an 
 empty car for some repairs, I met my old antago- 
 nist, French mud. It was the genuine article this 
 time too, the kind that gets a hold and doesn't let 
 go. I was turning out of the road to allow a 
 camion to go by but In my eagerness to avoid it I 
 
28 ''Back From Heir' 
 
 swerved an inch too far. Little by little I felt 
 the back end of my car sliding off the road so I 
 threw in low speed and opened the gas. The 
 front wheels stayed on the higher ground but the 
 rear wheels seemed to be trying to catch up with 
 them and finally did so, but when they did, they 
 pulled the whole car off into the gutter which was 
 not steep but oh, so muddy. I labored and strug- 
 gled with the gas and the low speed. I groaned 
 and swore, I stalled my engine and got out to 
 crank it, and when I did I couldn't get in again. 
 I used up ten minutes in getting my feet out of that 
 mud and getting them cleaned up. I tried it again 
 but it was no use, the car would not come, for it 
 was stuck. That was the only explanation there 
 was, it was stuck in French mud. Not having any 
 chains I tried to put sticks and boards under the 
 wheels and I succeeded but they went so far under 
 that I could not see what became of them. I finally 
 began pulling a farmer's rail fence to pieces in my 
 attempt to pry out the wheels and get a founda- 
 tion to start from, but at last I had to walk more 
 than a mile till I found two men at a farmhouse 
 who came down with a heavy team to pull me out. 
 When they arrived at the place where the car was 
 stuck, lo, the fence which I had dismantled be- 
 
The Northwest Front — Mud! 29 
 
 longed to one of the men. He looked at me with 
 a peculiar expression. I thought he was angry 
 and was going to scold me and demand payment 
 for damage to his property. In a couple of sec- 
 onds, however, we both burst out into a hearty 
 laugh for he appreciated the situation as well as I. 
 With a large log chain looped around the front 
 axle of the car the great horses put their necks 
 into the collar and hauled it out. The men would 
 not accept a cent of pay, one of them saying, " Not 
 a sou, it*s for France." 
 
CHAPTER VI 
 
 A WEIRD NIGHT 
 
 ONE midnight after a certain engagement 
 " somewhere in France " in which many men 
 fell, I learned of an experience which burned its 
 way into my soul, and I believe will stay there till 
 the Judgment Day. I have read in history of indi- 
 viduals such as the one I am telling of, but never 
 In my life have I had actual knowledge of any but 
 this one, and I hope that I shall hereafter forever 
 be delivered from such. 
 
 This particular night the firing for some reason 
 had suddenly ceased. A man named Valke was 
 an emergency watcher at a listening post, when 
 the most blood-curdling thing I have ever known 
 occurred. 
 
 A listening post is a branch off from the main 
 trench toward the enemy or In his general direc- 
 tion, which is dug secretly as you go, the dirt being 
 carried back In bags so as not to disclose its loca- 
 tion. These posts must be changed often, as the 
 enemy is apt to discover them, and then look out I 
 
 30 
 
A Weird Night 31 
 
 Valke was standing in the darkness and seclu- 
 sion of the post when a shriek rent the air, the 
 sound of which he said he would hear through 
 eternity. It came from a man who was prostrate 
 on the ground. He had noticed the body lying 
 there before, a few yards away, and had assumed 
 that the man was dead. He was a Frenchman, 
 and on account of the darkness could be seen with 
 difficulty. But he was not dead, only unconscious, 
 and something had suddenly revived him. 
 
 "O God,'' he cried, "my marriage ring!" 
 and then he moaned and groaned like a lost soul in 
 agony. Immediately another form raised up to 
 full stature and looked quickly about. Valke had 
 to strain his eyes to see him and he trembled with 
 nervousness. He did not know what to do for an 
 instant. The man's head jerked this way and that. 
 He must have expected someone to hear the cries 
 and groans of the other man, and evidently was 
 looking around for watchers or listeners. The 
 Frenchman kept on groaning, and the man, seem- 
 ing to fear that if any watchers were near, they 
 would immediately let loose upon him, started to 
 run. Valke kept very still in his dark post. 
 
 Suddenly the fugitive stopped. He turned and 
 ran back to the prostrate Frenchman. Valke saw 
 
32 ''Back From Heir' 
 
 the gleam of a knife drawn from a sheath. It 
 was in the hand of the apache. In an instant the 
 horrid thing was done — a swift movement of the 
 arm, a flash,» and the blade plunged into the body 
 of the helpless soldier I Then silence : silence more 
 terrible than the groans of agony that it stilled. 
 Valke's fists clinched by instinct, the nails cutting 
 into the very flesh of his palms ; and then his right 
 hand went to the holster on his hip. It was all 
 too plain: the hideous vulture of the battlefield 
 knew that " dead men tell no tales," and that the 
 wounded sometimes recover and tell things that 
 lead to fearful reprisals on their enemies. More 
 than that: wounded men cry out and groan; but 
 the dead are quiet. The knife had done its work: 
 escape might be surer for the assassin. That's the 
 logic of ghouls. 
 
 Valke drew his service pistol, but hesitated to 
 fire. To do so might betray his listening post and 
 draw the enemy's shrapnel; it might be fatal to 
 the section. In the second that Valke cast up the 
 chances, he heard whisperings from another lis- 
 tening post. The ghoul had risen and was slink- 
 ing for cover when the crack of a rifle tore a gap 
 in the stillness. A light flashed up fifty yards 
 ahead. Instinctively, the prowler sought the cover 
 
A Weird Night 33 
 
 of a bush nearby and waited for the lapse of atten- 
 tion which might let him dash to safety. A sentry 
 on patrol came up, passed, and vanished. That 
 was the apache's chance I He came out of hiding 
 and skulked along the entanglements hoping to find 
 an alleyway to safety. The way led him right in 
 front of Valke's listening post. A flash lamp shot 
 its beam of blinding light full on the assassin's 
 face. 
 
 "Who goes there?" challenged Valke. No 
 answer. 
 
 "Who goes there?" . . . Silence; not a 
 sound. 
 
 ''QuiVivef' . . . No reply. ''Qui Vive?" 
 
 Then Valke pressed the trigger and with a 
 groan the apache crumpled up, dead. 
 
 " For a minute," said Valke in telling me the 
 story, " the thought of what I had done made me 
 shudder, though it was nothing but a plain matter 
 of army duty. The man had been challenged, 
 well knowing the penalty of war for silence. And 
 yet — I had killed him I It made me feel faint. But 
 when we examined the body it was all right again 
 inside of me. That German held In his hand a 
 bleeding human finger, still at blood heat, and 
 
34 ''Back From Heir 
 
 around that finger was a marriage ring! In his 
 pocket he had an emblem pin and a gold watch and 
 chain; and on his own finger a diamond ring — all 
 snatched from the dead or dying bodies of men 
 who had made the supreme sacrifice for France I 
 Who could pity such a vile ghoul as he ? " 
 
 From that hour I believe my transformation 
 began. I thought of my sacred calling, the min- 
 istry. My church at home flashed into my mind. 
 What would people think? How would I stand 
 in the eyes of God? I reflected on my former 
 teachings and beliefs. Could I face my friends, to 
 whom I had preached peace and gentleness, now 
 that I had applauded violence and war? Was 
 it right or justifiable? My mind was very much 
 perturbed and I was extremely nervous. A proc- 
 ess of moral regeneration of my ideas was going 
 on. This, I now believe, to be as important as a 
 man's spiritual conversion, and step by step this 
 book unfolds the process in my life. I stood at an 
 hour of decision. I faced life. Its issues must be 
 met. Here In the presence of death I had my 
 supreme struggle. Time divided I The roads 
 parted. Eternity was ahead. Where was I ? I 
 was In hell ! Right then it surrounded, enveloped, 
 engulfed me. The hour was freighted with des- 
 
A Weird Night 35 
 
 tiny. Then came a sudden high resolve. '* I must 
 take the path of right and duty, wherever it may 
 lead, e'en * though I walk through the valley of the 
 shadow of death, Thou art with me.' Duty may re- 
 quire violence and war." My pacifism began to 
 fade away, as I saw visions of mutilated men. 
 Then all went black. 
 
CHAPTER VII 
 
 THE RED CROSS 
 
 CARING for men, not only those who are 
 wounded, but for those who are sick or in 
 trouble as well, the Red Cross is without a doubt 
 the greatest relief organization in the world today. 
 It is so far-reaching in its scope that it does not 
 stop with the soldiers, but includes also in its min- 
 istrations indirect victims of war — the widows, 
 the fatherless, the aged left desolate, the homeless, 
 and the refugees of every age and.condition of life. 
 Heretofore some people have had a wrong impres- 
 sion of this great agency, thinking that it minis- 
 tered merely to unfortunate men on the battle field. 
 This is far from being the case, however. It holds 
 out its hand of hope and help to many other thou- 
 sands who would languish in hopelessness and de- 
 spair but for its kindly succor. 
 
 To be sure in war time the most critical point 
 of all is the battle line. And the most important 
 man Is the soldier. He must be kept fit to do his 
 work or all else fails. Therefore naturally enough 
 
 36 
 
The Red Cross 37 
 
 the Red Cross, or Croix Rouge as it is called in 
 France, focuses Its attention mainly on the fighting 
 men. The problem of caring for the wounded 
 in the present conflict is so different and so much 
 more vast than in any previous war that a com- 
 parison is well nigh impossible. Back in our Civil 
 War there was no Red Cross organization and 
 the facilities for attending to the needs of the in- 
 jured and the sick were extremely limited to say 
 the least. Consequently while we did the best we 
 could, hours and days often passed, before a 
 wounded soldier could be attended to, and many 
 deaths ensued which would be avoided today. In 
 fact the mortality percentage was immensely higher 
 than in the present war. This sounds almost un- 
 believable in view of the many fearful devices 
 which the Germans have used and the constant 
 reports of awful carnage. But when we base our 
 death estimates upon the actual number of men 
 engaged the face of the situation changes very ma- 
 terially. We must remember that even in time of 
 peace in civil life among twenty million men there 
 will be thousands of deaths each day and the 
 chances of saving a sick or wounded man are far 
 greater today than ever before. 
 
 The marvelous Red Cross institution has 
 
38 ''Back From Hell'' 
 
 sought out the best physicians and surgeons of 
 every country and the most efficient nurses as aids; 
 and by research investigation and experiments 
 has brought down to the finest point that science 
 has yet attained the matter of saving life. Any 
 person who has had anything whatever to do with 
 this great agency will testify to its marvelous skill 
 and efficiency. 
 
 Moreover, aside from its merely utiUtarian 
 aspect, there goes with the Red Cross Angel in 
 Europe that sentimental sweetness and that deli- 
 cate touch which is so treasured by the heart of 
 every soldier. It Is the beginning, by the greatest 
 Mother in the world of the fulfillment of the 
 prophecy of Jesus, *' I was hungry, and ye gave 
 me to eat; I was thirsty, and ye gave me drink; I 
 was a stranger, and ye took me in; naked, and ye 
 clothed me ; I was sick, and ye visited me ; I was in 
 prison, and ye came unto me ; verily I say unto you, 
 Inasmuch as ye did it unto one of these my breth- 
 ren, even these least, ye did it unto me." In this 
 way real religion Is practiced in the trenches. In 
 this way Is that new Christianity taking shape In 
 Europe which Is to be the religion of the future 
 In America. 
 
 Another of the great movements for the uplift 
 
Copyright, Underwood & Underwood, N. Y. 
 
 AN AMERICAN WOMAN CARING FOR A LITTLE 
 WOUNDED FRENCH CHILD. 
 
The Red Cross 39 
 
 and welfare of the soldiers is the Y. M.C. A. It 
 has long been recognized that there are many 
 strong and peculiar temptations in the life of a sol- 
 dier which do not come to people in the ordinary 
 walks of life. The first of these is the temptation 
 to homesickness. With armies from all over the 
 world concentrated in France, and with millions of 
 boys for the first time in their lives separated from 
 their old associates and environments and set down 
 in the midst of a new atmosphere among people of 
 a foreign tongue and different habits and modes 
 of living, it would be strange, Indeed, if they did 
 not have a longing for home, old acquaintances, 
 and familiar faces. Companionship and sympathy 
 are the things they need above all else. Confiden- 
 tial relations between themselves and those whom 
 they can call friends is worth everything, and 
 this is exactly what the Y. M. C. A. establishes. 
 It counteracts, If not entirely in large part at any 
 rate, the tendency toward homesickness. In a land 
 which Is strange, where there are no acquaintances 
 and no home atmosphere, the Y. M. C. A. secre- 
 taries and the Y. M. C. A. huts furnish the only 
 touch of home that the soldier has. Here he 
 comes when tired and beaten and spent with war; 
 here his footsteps turn when his soul longs for an 
 
40 ''Back From Heir 
 
 association which money cannot buy. Here he 
 finds exactly what he needs, namely other boys 
 who are lonely too and who are seeking the same 
 satisfaction that he wants. 
 
 In the hut he first finds the secretary. The man 
 who has charge of the building is there to be used 
 in any way he is needed. He is not there to push 
 religion on to homesick soldiers. Above all things, 
 remember that the secretary is a failure who Is 
 continually trying to force his religion down the 
 throats of the men and boys who want good fellow- 
 ship. After gaining the friendship and respect of 
 a man and his confidence it is not unlikely that the 
 influence of a secretary will exert itself in a reli- 
 gious manner; but even then it will be indirectly, 
 unless and until there is some definite evidence 
 from the man himself that he is interested and 
 wants it. 
 
 In other words the Y. M. C. A. as such, is not a 
 revival meeting whose object is to impress the 
 weight of men's sins upon them when that weight 
 presses heavily enough anyway; but rather it is a 
 place of human feelings and homelike atmosphere. 
 A boy comes in and finds writing paper for a let- 
 ter to his mother. In one corner at the top is the 
 Red Triangle, emblem of body, mind, and spirit; 
 
The Red Cross 41 
 
 and in the other corner are the words : " With the 
 Colors." When the letter is written, stamps can 
 be had in the building and the letter is mailed 
 there. The boys have different kinds of games to 
 play and good books to read so that with the 
 amusement and comradeship they can also get 
 some mental benefit. When a man comes in from 
 the trenches dirty and fatigued and about disgusted, 
 there is nothing else in the whole makeup of the 
 war-organization which will do what this institu- 
 tion does. 
 
 The Knights of Columbus contribute quite as 
 freely to the comfort of the soldiers, and I do not 
 believe there is a boy on the Western front who 
 would tolerate a word against either of them. It 
 strikes me that the religion of the Red Cross type 
 — a type which includes the Y. M. C. A. and the 
 Knights of Columbus — is the kind which the Mas- 
 ter exemplified in His life and the kind which he 
 intended for us. I feel that it is a far truer and 
 higher form of religion than many of the brands 
 that are being peddled about the world today, 
 and I hope when the war is over, that the whole 
 world may adopt it. 
 
CHAPTER VIII 
 
 AT THE stations these days we found num- 
 . bers of poilus who were "done In" by the 
 German explosive bullets, many of them breathing 
 their last. Poor devils, writhing In pain and agony ! 
 It was bad enough to have their flesh penetrated by 
 the capsule of lead and steel, but to have added to 
 it the excruciating torture of having the bullet 
 explode or expand after It got inside, was 
 fiendish. 
 
 But such was the German^s Idea of "military 
 necessity." They had thrust aside every consider- 
 ation of humanity, and every ideal of morality, and 
 were employing ruthless and frightful methods to 
 gain their military goal, which as they said "must 
 be attained at all costs." 
 
 And cost it did. 
 
 It cost innocent life and untold agony. 
 
 It was daily costing conscience and character. 
 
 It was costing Germany that standing among the 
 nations which is so necessary to the future, and she 
 
 42 
 
When France Was First ''Gassed'' 43 
 
 was sacrificing her national honor for transitory 
 dreams of power and wealth. 
 
 The Germans had employed the most fearful 
 implements that the genius of their fertile brains 
 could devise. 
 
 Liquid fire which seared the flesh, and electric 
 currents which burned most dreadfully, were 
 among the lighter forms of their torturous war- 
 fare. 
 
 The poison gases capped the climax. 
 
 One afternoon, at the second battle of Ypres, 
 they let loose this demon of the devil. 
 
 From a distance of two miles the ambulance 
 men had been watching the engagement, waiting 
 for the signal to come forward to transport the 
 wounded men. 
 
 The field glasses betrayed every movement on 
 the battle line. 
 
 Suddenly, and without any apparent cause, the 
 Allied lines seemed to break, and the fields were 
 alive with running figures. 
 
 Astonishment took hold of the spectators. 
 
 The impossible had happened, and the French 
 Army was In wild retreat. 
 
 Figures were seen tottering and stumbling 
 across the meadow, soldiers were reeling to and 
 
44 ''Back From Hell'' 
 
 fro, staggering like drunken men. Falling down 
 upon the ground, waving their arms frantically, 
 they kicked their legs in the air, agonized and 
 groaning. Some of them came into the Red Cross 
 dressing station, coughing, choking, and strangling. 
 Their faces were green and their chests were 
 heaving. Between gasps, they related an incredi- 
 ble tale. 
 
 The Germans had opened up a bombardment of 
 our trenches with some new, but hellish, weapon. 
 A greenish, gray gas had appeared above them, 
 and hung low, instead of rising. It seemed to be 
 heavier than air, and soon it made its way down 
 into the trenches, choking our men and throwing 
 them into a state of terror. 
 
 They tried to fan it away with their blankets. 
 But no use, it only spread the gas, which got into 
 their throats and lungs and tortured them beyond 
 all description. 
 
 *' God knows we will fight like men," they said, 
 "but to be smothered like rats is different. No 
 human being could endure such suffocation. God 
 never meant a man to breathe that stuff and we'll 
 make those hell-hounds pay for it." 
 
 But hundreds of poor poilus had already "gone 
 West," and those who escaped were in such a con- 
 
When France Was First ''Gassed" 45 
 
 ditlon of permanent disability and weakness that 
 there was no danger of their making the Germans 
 pay. Many Canadians, too, brave fellows, died 
 that day, but on that day also they became immor- 
 tal. 
 
 The stretcher bearers had seen it all, and now 
 upon the signal, plunged into the work of lifting 
 the sufferers into the ambulances and carrying them 
 back to be treated and cared for. For days this 
 thing endured, until at last the Allies devised a gas 
 mask or respirator which completely nullified the 
 effects of the deadly chlorine, but they paid an 
 awful price before they got it. It is a very simple 
 device, consisting of a long cap of light canvas or 
 similar material, soaked in a chemical solution 
 which absorbs or neutralizes the poison of the 
 gases. The cap has large eye holes with glass 
 windows. The air from the lungs is expelled 
 through a tube which has an outward opening 
 valve, so that you must breathe In through the 
 treated gauze. One's coat Is buttoned tightly 
 around the lower end of this cap or " smoke hel- 
 met," so that no gas can enter from below. It Is 
 put on In twenty seconds and can withstand five 
 hours of the poison gas. 
 
 Poison gas! Had the nation of Kultur de- 
 
46 ''Back From Hell'' 
 
 scended to such fiendish methods of torture ? Yes, 
 and to worse ones. It angered me. I had already 
 pulled off my frock coat. I now shed my vest also. 
 I was in process of preparation for the supreme 
 battle — the moral struggle — to decide when a 
 man's a man; to determine what attitude and in- 
 ward action I should take in regard to this kind of 
 thing. I could see that I must settle that problem 
 sooner or later. 
 
CHAPTER IX 
 
 WHEN JACQUES " WENT WEST" 
 
 ONE of the most pathetic of the personal ex- 
 periences which I had while I was in the 
 service was in my association with a young poilu 
 of about nineteen. 
 
 I had become well acquainted with the lad and 
 we had many an interesting talk together, he speak- 
 ing in his inimitable French manner and I respond- 
 ing in my butchered-up attempt at that language. 
 
 One day, however, after we had been speaking 
 of how we were going to get the Germans, Jacques 
 must have become a little careless, and when he 
 went up to his fire step, raised his head a little too 
 high, for he received an ugly skull wound. 
 
 Some time afterwards I was by his side and, in 
 a husky whisper, he told me he was seriously 
 wounded. He asked me to bring him a pencil, and 
 said he was afraid he was "done in." He then 
 fumbled clumsily about in the pocket of his grand- 
 tunic, or great coat, until he found a piece of paper. 
 It was in reality a piece of cardboard on which 
 
 47 
 
48 ''Back From Heir 
 
 was a photograph of himself taken with his mother 
 some years before. It was old, faded, and dis- 
 colored, and on the back of It he wrote a message 
 which ran something like this : 
 
 Dear Mother — It has been some time since I heard 
 from you. You doubtless know that father and both 
 brothers have been killed in the trenches some time ago. 
 Now I am wounded also, and I may not be able to come to 
 you, as I expected to do next week. But, Mother dear, even 
 if I do not get to see you, don't feel badly anyway because 
 youVe given all for La Belle France, and I may see you 
 some time — over there — beyond the range. — Lovingly, 
 
 Jacques. 
 
 Personally I had thought and hoped that his 
 wound was not so serious and It would not be neces- 
 sary for me to deliver the message to his mother. 
 But he knew better than I. And three days later 
 worse came to worst and poor Jacques "went 
 West." The tragic duty of taking his body back 
 to his lonely mother, somewhere in France, de- 
 volved upon me. I also handed her his message, but 
 I could not remain. Her grief was too deep. I 
 fairly ran away from that house. 
 
 But that mother's eyes penetrated my soul for 
 days and weeks, and my thoughts, try as I might, 
 could not get away from her lot. In about three 
 weeks I felt a strong pull and I made my way back 
 
When Jacques "Went West'' 49 
 
 to her little humble home to see if I could in any 
 way lighten her burden a bit, or perhaps say some 
 word to bring just a little comfort or assuage her 
 heart's grief. When I rapped on the door and 
 she answered and saw who I was, she fairly beamed 
 with pleasure and threw her arms about my neck 
 exclaiming, " Mr. Benson, I am so glad you have 
 come," and then rushing over to the dresser drawer 
 she brought out that worn and faded photograph 
 with her son's message on the back, and as she 
 showed it to me she exclaimed: "I am going to 
 keep it till I die I It's not for the value of the pic- 
 ture, but that message interprets the heart of my 
 boy to me. It tells me that he loves me, and, Mr. 
 Benson, do you know, I wish I might have an- 
 other husband and three more boys to go and fight 
 for La Belle France I " 
 
 That's an example of heroism and patriotism 
 for America I 
 
 And after that, for several weeks, that little 
 loyal French mother, now alone in the world, sent 
 me regularly some cakes and delicacies, with the 
 message that as she did not have any of her own 
 now to care for, she must try to do her best to help 
 those who were helping France to win the battle 
 for liberty. 
 
50 ''Back From Hell'' 
 
 Poor Jacques had " gone West." And she need 
 not send him any more clothes or food, but Jacques 
 and his two brothers and his father too, have 
 thrown their lives into the scale, and have added 
 just so many more names to that honor roll, which 
 already is large, of patriots of France. They 
 loved their country. Every man, woman, and 
 child over there does likewise, and France will 
 honor them all eternally. 
 
 I pray God's blessing on Jacques' mother now. 
 
CHAPTER X 
 
 OFTEN in the long, long hours of the mid- 
 night during that period I brooded over 
 the situation. Frequently the wheels of my 
 thought would turn swiftly, and cause me to reflect 
 upon that life in the terrible trenches; in those 
 uncanny and frightful sewers, dug in the ground, 
 out there in No Man's Land, and, it sometimes 
 seemed, in no God's land, where the guns bark, 
 and the red fire leaps, and the shrapnel hisses, and 
 the howitzers rip and snort in the daytime, and 
 where glassy-eyed rats and vermin sneak and glide, 
 spying upon the fatigued soldier In the night time, 
 ready to finish up the work which the explosive 
 may not quite have ended. 
 
 Out there, in those animal burrows, surrounded 
 by mud and blood and bacterial mold, where, week 
 after week, the poor, plucky poilus existed. It could 
 not be called living, and month after month re- 
 mained in the weird, grim business of killing their 
 unseen opponents by machinery. 
 
52 ''Back From Heir 
 
 I can picture them now lying upon that bank of 
 dirt, some two feet high and, eighteen inches wide 
 — the fire step, they call it — which runs along 
 the front side of the trench, six feet in the ground 
 and three or four feet wide, with nothing overhead, 
 or nothing but branches of trees covered with dust 
 and mud. 
 
 As I write I can see the entire spectacle : How 
 those men stuck out their rifles through the open- 
 ings left for them and, at the given signal, fired, 
 never knowing whether they hit and killed their 
 objects. 
 
 But those bullets went home, all right. 
 
 The list of wounded on either side, at the end 
 of the week or the end of the month, told more 
 tragically than any individual report could tell 
 that those bullets went home. And day after 
 day, and week after week, every three minutes, 
 or every four minutes, those men raised their 
 smoking, reeking tubes of death, and let fly the 
 fatal messengers. 
 
 And night after night they had to lie upon 
 that bench bed of dirt and indulge in disturbed 
 sleep, or else gaze out upon that knotted, gnarled 
 mass of barbed-wire entanglements in front of 
 the trenches, as it glistened in the moonlight ; that 
 
''Trench Nightmare'' 53 
 
 barrier, which, unlike the barbed wire that civil- 
 ized man — and civilized beast — is accustomed 
 to, has barbs upon it, not one but four inches 
 in length, to rend and tear and catch the flesh 
 of man, and hold him wriggling, writhing and 
 squirming as he tries to charge the enemy, just 
 long enough to give that enemy the chance, from 
 his hiding place over yonder under the ground, 
 to shoot him full of bullet holes. 
 
 God, what a nightmare it is I And when an as- 
 sault was ordered and they charged down the alley- 
 ways between the sections of barbed-wire en- 
 tanglement, they found themselves confronted by 
 storms of bullets from those wicked machine guns, 
 each one of which speaks at a rate of 450 to 3,000 
 times per minute. 
 
 In order to have even a gambler's chance of cap- 
 turing the enemy's trench, therefore, sometimes it 
 became necessary to abandon the open alleyways 
 and charge right across and "over the top" of 
 those awful masses of barbed wire. This was 
 almost certain death for those of the first ranks. 
 Other lines of men following close upon the first 
 might also be mowed down as well, as they were 
 caught upon the wire, but after a while all the wire 
 is covered up, and all the space is filled between the 
 
54 ''Back From Hell'' 
 
 top of It, waist high, and the earth, with soldiers* 
 bodies, a veritable foundation of human flesh, upon 
 which the following waves of men usually rushed 
 over successfully without becoming entangled. 
 
 If fortune was with them, they had some pos- 
 sibility of taking the trench of the enemy. 
 
 If they did, what next ? 
 
 The enemy, or what was left of him, retreated 
 through communicating trenches to others in the 
 rear, of which there are many, planted a stick of 
 dynamite after him, to blow up his retreat, and 
 found himself. In a few moments, a hundred yards 
 back, and intrenched just as solidly as he was be- 
 fore. Perhaps even more solidly, because he had 
 now the men who escaped from the front line 
 trench in addition to the same number In the second 
 line, which now became the first. 
 
 Such is war today. 
 
 And, because of this method of warfare, the 
 death list Is a hundredfol4 more frightful, and so 
 along that battle line In France, three hundred and 
 fifty miles in length, the weekly toll of human life 
 staggers all conception. The contemplation of 
 It saddens the soul. Nothing but the vision of 
 Liberty and Right triumphant can ever compen- 
 sate for the slaughtered loved ones. 
 
''Trench Nightmare'' 55 
 
 The piles of dead and wounded men, bleeding, 
 groaning masses of human pulp, rotting flesh and 
 decaying bones, carry disease and fever to ambu- 
 lance rescue workers and all. These are the black 
 silhouettes which go to make up that grim and 
 gloomy picture, that nightmare of the trenches. 
 These, of course, are the things one sees in his 
 dark and somber moments. But it is not all like 
 this. 
 
CHAPTER XI 
 
 CALM BEFORE A STORM 
 
 SECTION '' Y," to which I had been attached, 
 was about this time transferred to a point 
 much farther east and south. They were a jolly 
 bunch of good fellows and always had a sociable 
 time together. As a rule the best of feeling existed 
 between all of the members but I remember one 
 occasion on which the tranquillity of the party 
 came perilously near being upset, temporarily at 
 least. One of the boys was of a rather argumenta- 
 tive turn of mind and would often deny the state- 
 ments of the other boys apparently just for the 
 sake of controversy. I think he believed that 
 matching wits and defending one's position were 
 wholesome mental exercises. I will not mention 
 his name as there is no animosity whatever between 
 us, but I will say that he went later into the diplo- 
 matic service of our country. He had been a kind 
 of soldier of fortune and without a doubt had 
 knocked about the world a lot and seen a number 
 of things. In his time he had been to nearly all 
 
 56 
 
 I 
 
Calm Before a Storm 57 
 
 the countries of the globe and had been In some 
 colleges and universities. 
 
 On this particular evening we were sitting 
 around the tables at our quarters, each fellow tell- 
 ing of some exploit of his previous life, and he had 
 related some strange experiences of his travels. 
 It happened that the night before, when I had 
 made the statement that I once crossed the Atlan- 
 tic on the Lucania In six days he had flatly con- 
 tradicted me, saying that the Lucania was a 
 much slower boat. It Irritated me to have him con- 
 tradict me in front of aU, the boys concerning a 
 thing which I knew I had done. But I let It pass. 
 This night, however. It was different. Heaven 
 only knows how we drifted upon the subject but 
 I happened to make the remark that students at 
 Princeton were compelled to sign a pledge that 
 they would not belong to any secret fraternity 
 while they were members of the school. My friend 
 promptly g^^eeted this remark with the astounding 
 statement, " They do not ! " I said, " Well, I went 
 to school there and I was required to sign the 
 paper, and so I ought to know." He still persisted 
 in his denial, placing me in a rather embarrassing 
 position before the other fellows. I got crusty. I 
 said, "Look here, son, you denied a statement 
 
58 ''Back From Heir 
 
 that I made last night about a fact of my own life, 
 and now you have done it again. You had better 
 tend to your own business hereafter, and stop try- 
 ing to make me out a liar, or there is going to be 
 trouble." He said, " What will you do about it?" 
 I replied pugnaciously, '^I'll flatten your face, 
 that's what I'll do about it." Of course, he said 
 something about ''starting in" whenever I got 
 ready, and so forth, and the argument died down a 
 bit. A moment later when I stepped outside, some 
 of the boys asked me if I knew who I had been 
 talking to. I said, " No, but I'll do what I said 
 I would, anyway. Who is he?" They said, "That 
 fellow is an ex-prize fighter and at one time was in 
 the ring with th^ greatest pugilist in England." 
 "Is that right ?^JW said in astonishment, "Well, 
 I don't think I'jSslap his face at all, and he can 
 deny any statem'fent I make with perfect impunity." 
 We all had a laugh and in his presence thereafter 
 I was very meek and lamblike. I pulled my horns 
 way in. 
 
 After all he was a good fellow and from this 
 moment we got along on the best of terms. We 
 had a good many days of calm about that time and 
 not very much to do but wait for the storm and 
 action of war. Sometimes, to be sure, we would 
 
 I 
 
Calm Before a Storm 59 
 
 be called out on long trips to the front to bring in 
 some wounded officer or some dignitary but our 
 ordinary duties were to carry from the station to 
 the several hospitals the wounded who came in on 
 frequent trains. The French officials, however, 
 seemed to appreciate our work even though it was 
 quite humble. French courtesy and gratitude are 
 such wonderful things that the officers gracefully 
 accepted the work and praised It anyway, though 
 I have often thought that generosity must have 
 blinded them to the many deficiencies and short- 
 comings. I sometimes wonder if they do not smile 
 Inwardly and, when they are alone, laugh out- 
 wardly at the service which we thought quite credit- 
 ably done. Americans have a way of thinking that 
 their work is superior even though It may not be 
 looked upon as such by others. At any rate ours 
 was done In the best spirit of good will and It was 
 certainly accepted in a similar spirit. 
 
 For a while things were comparatively quiet. 
 Then, however, all of a sudden attacks were begun, 
 and the boys had all they could do making trips 
 back and forth carrying the wounded from the 
 front to the hospitals. 
 
CHAPTER XII 
 
 IF AN AMBULANCE COULD SPEAK 
 
 IN SILENT moments of rest between trips I 
 occasionally would reflect, "If an ambulance 
 could only talk, what tales it would tell I" No 
 doubt, sometimes it would tell of the pleasant 
 occasions and of merry conversation, and then 
 again it would turn to the tragic and the sad. 
 Now it would be of victorious moments, and again 
 it would be of defeat and discouragement. Occa- 
 sionally It would be gay and glad, and speak of 
 heroism if some slightly wounded man was riding 
 in it and talk joyfully of the hope and gladness 
 in his heart. But far more frequently, I fear, it 
 would tell of blood and pain and hate and 
 death. 
 
 As an example of ambulance tales there is one 
 little incident which I feel I must relate. After 
 
 the battle at B , where the French Colonials 
 
 of Africa composed the main force of the Allies' 
 soldiers, we had hundreds of these dark-hued 
 men to transport In our ambulances. The slaugh- 
 
 60 
 
>H « 
 
If an Ambulance Could Speak 6i 
 
 ter had been terrific, and the wounded men were 
 extraordinarily mutilated. 
 
 Two of these Turcos had been loaded into 
 our ambulance and we were waiting for a third 
 passenger, when a German prisoner was brought 
 out on a stretcher. He was very seriously 
 injured, and lay there quiet and pale. One of 
 the Turcos was badly wounded, and the other 
 one not so seriously. We received orders to 
 carry the German wounded prisoner to the same 
 hospital as the Turcos, and so we lifted his stretcher 
 and slid it into the upper story of the ambulance, a 
 suspended arrangement which enabled us to carry 
 three men while otherwise we could have carried 
 only two. There was a considerable distance to be 
 traversed between the station where we received 
 our men and the hospital to which we were told to 
 take them. After we had been on the road for 
 some minutes and were driving along at a fairly 
 good rate, there was a violent vibration and shak- 
 ing of the car. We switched off the gasoline and 
 threw in the brakes and, bringing the car to a stop, 
 jumped down and ran around to the rear to see 
 what was wrong. 
 
 The first thing I saw was a stream of blood 
 trickling down from the stretcher above and soak- 
 
62 ''Back From Hell'' 
 
 ing the uniform of one of the Turcos in the bot- 
 tom of the car. I then saw that this fellow had 
 his knife in his hand, and I excitedly asked what 
 was the matter. The other Turco, who was not 
 so badly wounded explained that his partner did 
 not like the idea of having a live German riding 
 in the same car with him, and so he had slipped 
 out his trench knife and with what strength he had 
 left, had rallied and raised himself up enough to 
 thrust it upward through the stretcher and into the 
 back of the German above. There was a smile of 
 satisfaction on the black face of the Turco, who 
 had fallen back exhausted. We unbuckled the 
 straps which held the German's stretcher and 
 slipped it out, but he was already dead. While 
 we were examining him the two Turcos said a few 
 words to each other, and when we were about to 
 start forward they both refused to ride with a dead 
 German in the car. Before we were done with 
 him we had to carry the corpse to the side of the 
 road and bury it there. 
 
 We folded up the stretcher, put it back into 
 the car, and again set out. When we got to the 
 hospital several miles farther on, we lifted out 
 the stretchers, but one of the Turcos was dead. 
 He had used up all his strength and life in the 
 
If an Ambulance Could Speak 63 
 
 great effort he had put forth to kill the hated 
 German, but the other one said he was very con- 
 tented, and had died willingly and gladly. 
 
 Such little Incidents of different kinds are con- 
 tinually happening, where millions of men from 
 all classes of society and with different ideals are 
 thrown together, and I am sure any ambulance 
 on the Western front could tell many a thrilling 
 tale if it but had the power. Perhaps it is better 
 that It can not speak. 
 
CHAPTER XIII 
 
 A TICKLISH ATTACK 
 
 AT ONE time I was called upon to go to the 
 city of A on a particular errand. While 
 
 there I had a unique experience. I had gotten 
 a permit allowing me to remain there over night, 
 which, speaking accurately, allowed me to leave 
 next day. You have very little difficulty " stay- 
 ing" in a place as long as you stay, but if you do 
 not have a permit you will have your troubles 
 when you try to " leave " next day. 
 
 All permits in Europe today read "allowed 
 to leave '' such and such a place on such and such 
 a day for another place. 
 
 Well, I had gotten my permit to leave A 
 
 on the following day, the 24th. I wandered 
 around over the city viewing the destroyed por- 
 tions and making the acquaintance of some women- 
 folk who ran a restaurant, and at last I found a 
 hotel and went to sleep. The next morning after 
 breakfast I left my hotel and made my way up 
 the main street until I came to a narrow alley-like 
 
 «4 
 
A Ticklish Attack 65 
 
 street with tall buildings on either side, into which 
 I entered, bent on investigation. I had not gone 
 more than a hundred feet down this street when I 
 distinctly heard a boom! 
 
 I did not pay much attention to it, for I thought 
 it was likely some blasting in the vicinity, and 
 presently I heard another boom! 
 
 I then looked about and saw a man ahead of 
 me leading a horse hitched to a high-wheeled 
 vegetable cart, heavily loaded. He was trying to 
 run and drag along with him, horse, cart, and all. 
 Everybody was running and — well — I guess I 
 ran, tool I don't know just why I did — I know 
 I wasn't scared I But some way a feeling inside 
 of me told me I would rather be in some other 
 place than there. If I was to be killed, I thought 
 It would be more consolation to the folks at home 
 if my body wasn't loaded down with hundreds of 
 tons of brick and mortar. For nine and one-fifth 
 seconds I beat the world's record. 
 
 Boom! Boom! Boom! 
 
 When I got out into the main street again and 
 turned to get my breath, along with a good many 
 other runners, I saw three airplanes dropping 
 bombs down on the city alt the rate of a hundred 
 in a little over three minutes, and with the deto- 
 
66 "Back From Heir 
 
 nations and the reverberations of the anti-aircraft 
 guns which were being fired, added to the explo- 
 sions of the bombs themselves, it just seemed as 
 though the entire atmosphere was raining bombs. 
 And any way I went, a whole flock of the bombs 
 followed me. I learned later that an important 
 factory was destroyed and that forty people were 
 killed. If they had told me forty thousand, I 
 think I should have believed it. The feeling on 
 such an occasion as this is indescribable. It is 
 not like any ordinary bombardment when you 
 know the enemy is letting you have it from only 
 one side — the front. The sense of utter help- 
 lessness when you feel he is all about you and 
 peppering you from a thousand angles isn't 
 comfortable to say the least. That afternoon 
 I strolled about the city taking in the ruined dis- 
 tricts, and that evening I set off for my post, com- 
 plying with the provisions of my pass. If I hadn't 
 left then, I couldn't have gone at all without a lot 
 of difficulty. 
 
CHAPTER XIV 
 
 THE DEATH OF A COMRADE 
 
 ON A certain Friday afternoon at M the 
 day had been ominously quiet. Several of 
 the boys had gone out for a little stroll and lunch 
 before retiring, and a few were hanging around 
 the cars. The sun was sinking low in the west 
 and appeared to be loath to drop out of sight. An 
 orderly from the hospital came rushing over out 
 of breath and told us to come quickly. Two boys 
 went with me immediately and as we entered a 
 darkened room we saw our old friend, Gaston, 
 apparently "passing out." Some of us had been 
 pretty well acquainted with him. We went in 
 noiselessly but as soon as we stepped over the 
 threshold he opened his eyes a little wider and 
 smiled faintly. He looked so peaceful that we 
 hated to disturb him. Speaking In a kind of hoarse 
 whisper he said, " I sent for you. I am glad you 
 came. You boys have been good to me and I 
 wanted to thank you. I am lonesome, and I want 
 my mother, too. Pneumonia has set in, but I'll 
 
 67 
 
68 ''Back From Heir 
 
 be better — in — a — couple — of — days. How 
 
 — is — the — battle — go ?" Here his eyes 
 
 closed and he seemed to sleep. Yes, I can truth- 
 fully say he did find sleep. The sleep which knows 
 no waking. But the room was so quiet and he 
 looked so calm and happy as he lay there that it 
 did not seem like death. It only seemed as if some 
 white angel had come down and touched his tired, 
 feeble body and transfigured him. Poor fellow, 
 he had been gassed at the battle of Ypres, and we 
 had met him at the hospital. Several times we had 
 had good visits with him and neither he nor we sur- 
 mised that his time was so near at hand. He had 
 not appeared to be in pain and he always said he 
 did not suffer. And he was so hopeful to the end. 
 
 His life story had been a sad one. Married 
 when very young he had been a farmer on one of 
 those little places so common and yet so unique in 
 France. Things had not gone well with him and 
 his farm had almost been forfeited. He had a 
 family of children but his little twin boy and girl 
 had been killed in a runaway and the shock had 
 prostrated his wife. She had been an invalid ever 
 since. Years had gone by and then when the Ger- 
 mans came, a shell had struck his home killing his 
 wife in her bed and injuring his other boy. A few 
 
The Death of a Comrade 69 
 
 hours later the Germans entered the place, driving 
 him out of his home, taking his farm. He had 
 barely time to escape being captured, which would 
 have meant service for Germany instead of for 
 France. His heart had been saddened but he was 
 glad to get away and go into the French Army and 
 he had gone back to fight the Germans. He had 
 gone through several battles without being injured 
 but the gas caught him at Ypres. He lived sadly 
 but died peacefully, and we were requested to be 
 present at the last little service over what was 
 earthly of him. They put him In a plain casket 
 covered with a French flag and the procession 
 started down toward the little church. 
 
 At this time the Germans were bombing the dis- 
 trict quite regularly. On reaching the graveyard 
 we could see dozens of tombstones demolished, 
 and one grave had thrown its occupant to the sur- 
 face of the earth and it lay there a crumbling, rot- 
 ting corpse — yet smiling, or at least so it seemed 
 as the pearly white teeth were exposed to full view 
 — smiling in derision, beyond the power of the 
 German and his Kultur. Here Gaston was laid 
 to rest. 
 
 But war furnishes strange contradictions. It is 
 a continuous panorama of lights and shadows ; of 
 
70 ''Back From Heir 
 
 beauties and hideous monstrosities. It furnishes 
 some of the truest and bravest acts that history 
 records and It produces some of the foulest deeds 
 of crime. Experiences are so varied. Some eve- 
 nings, while loafing about the headquarters sitting 
 at little tables writing letters or talking peacefully 
 there was nothing whatever to remind us of battle. 
 Beautiful parks were in front of us, fountains and 
 flowers, and all was quiet and serene. Then a call 
 would come and within an hour or two we would 
 be enveloped in the harsh stern facts of war. 
 
 After witnessing the death of our comrade and 
 seeing the shattered cemetery and the decaying 
 corpse sticking out of the grave, all in one day, 
 I felt a bit weird myself. A man's nervous consti- 
 tution isn't made of Iron and even after seeing 
 many morbid spectacles, unless he has become 
 hopelessly hardened, he will still be affected by 
 tragic experiences and brutal scenes. I didn't rest 
 any too well that night after those creepy sensa- 
 tions and the next day my nerves were rather shaky. 
 The grim spectacle which was now to greet my 
 eyes did not tend to quiet me either. 
 
 I was sent on quite a long trip to bring in two 
 wounded men of the Colonials, one French, the 
 other British. These two men, Turko and Senega- 
 
The Death of a Comrade 71 
 
 lese, proverbially speaking, were as black as the 
 ace of spades. Neither of them was very dan- 
 gerously wounded and both were talking cheer- 
 fully. One had a leg broken and the other had 
 been caught In the shoulder. As we slid out the 
 stretcher of the first man and placed it on the 
 ground, his knapsack fell off and to my astonish- 
 ment out rolled the head of a German soldier! 
 The African spoke of it with great satisfaction, 
 turning it over In his hands and boasting of his 
 good fortune, as, I suppose the primitive Ameri- 
 can Indian boasted of the scalp dangling from his 
 belt. The other fellow, not to be outdone, ran his 
 hand Into the cavernous depths of his pocket and 
 brought forth a human eye. It was a ghastly look- 
 ing object. It seemed to me to be penetrating the 
 soul of the Colonial, but he just laughed and en- 
 joyed very much my discomfiture. 
 
 One evening as I was about to "hit the hay," 
 two wounded men came In on foot from the front. 
 They were so weak they could drag themselves 
 along no farther. I was requested to take them 
 to a hospital which was some distance from the 
 place. I got my car ready and saw that everything 
 was right. The night was dark as pitch. The 
 men were put on a brancard, or stretcher, and 
 
72 ''Back From Hell'' 
 
 placed in the ambulance. We were making our 
 way toward our destination when we came to a 
 piece of road running through a cut in the hilly 
 country. The road was rather narrow, just allow- 
 ing enough room for two vehicles to pass. On 
 either side was a great bank fifteen or more feet 
 high. Right in the main part of the cut was a mud- 
 hole perhaps a hundred feet or more in length. 
 When we came to this place we were suspicious of 
 it and stopped for a few moments to consider be- 
 fore making the plunge. As we did so a line of 
 motor lorries and soldiers came down from the 
 other direction. I was afraid it was too daring an 
 enterprise but two or three of the trucks got safely 
 through and my fears began to be allayed. A 
 truck now came loaded high with ammunition 
 cases and just behind it two men on horses. Into 
 the mudhole plowed the ammunition truck, and 
 the riders followed close behind. The mud was 
 getting deeper and deeper and the wheels began to 
 clog. An awful tattoo sounded as the driver threw 
 In the low speed and tried to pull ahead. The boys 
 on horseback turned out to go around the truck, 
 which was evidently sticking. As they did so Its 
 rear wheel struck a rock and broke short off, up- 
 setting the entire load. In falling down, the shell 
 
The Death of a Comrade 73 
 
 cases frightened the horses. One of them reared 
 and fell, throwing the rider right under the over- 
 turning truck. He was fatally crushed. The 
 soldiers coming up extricated the poor fellow from 
 the wreckage and brought him to our ambulance. 
 I quickly saw that he was "done in." tte could 
 talk a little, and he said that It was foolish to at- 
 tempt to ride around the truck in the narrow space, 
 especially where the mud was so deep. 
 
 We doubled back part way on our journey and 
 made a detour. But the mangled man died before 
 we reached our destination. We delivered the 
 other wounded and made the return trip with little 
 difficulty. Later on many soldiers came In on foot 
 over that piece of road but they said that the other 
 trucks had all turned back and gone around an- 
 other way. They did not dare to brave that awful 
 mudhole. These soldiers were dirty, worn and 
 battle-weary for they had walked from the trenches 
 for miles through the mud, and they plainly showed 
 It too. There was not a spot as big as your hand 
 on them that was not dyed with that cream-colored 
 mud and their faces were speckled with it so that 
 they looked almost as If they had had the smallpox. 
 As one of them turned to leave me, he uttered the 
 words, " Some mud." 
 
CHAPTER XV 
 
 ON AN OLD BATTLE GROUND 
 
 IN A certain section of the country one could 
 see from a prominent hill across some cities 
 and onward to the edge of the German lines. The 
 region has been much fought over and in fact Is an 
 old battle ground. One terribly drizzly day it be- 
 came necessary to go over to a nearby village to 
 evacuate a hospital. Wild tales had come in about 
 the " strafing" which the town was being subjected 
 to and we were immediately ordered to hurry to 
 the spot. It was said that the Germans were shell- 
 ing the place with "H. E.'s" from a distance of 
 about twenty miles, with shells of fifteen and seven- 
 teen inch caliber. If there is anything which will 
 put the fear of God in a man It is the explosion of 
 one of those "big fellows." 
 
 From the frightened faces of the men who had 
 just come from there, I think the whole town had 
 suddenly become a God-fearing people — since six 
 o'clock that morning. They told us that hundreds 
 of people had been killed and that many buildings 
 
 74 
 
On an Old Battle Ground 75 
 
 were in flames. Well, we went to our car and tried 
 to start it but it would not crank. We tried every- 
 thing we could think of but it was of no use. The 
 chilly night evidently had cooled the engine too 
 much. We heated a kettle of water and fed it into 
 the radiator and poured it over the carburetor. 
 This helped some, for she sputtered a little but the 
 engine did not take enough gas to turn over. Fin- 
 ally after I had taken out all the spark plugs and 
 given them a good cleaning with gasoline, I cranked 
 up and she started off with a bang. 
 
 All this time the men who had come in from the 
 burning village had been urging us to hurry. Their 
 impatience added so much to our nervousness that 
 it made us almost angry. Any man who has motor 
 trouble will appreciate it. At last we started the 
 ambulance. Just as we were going out the gate — 
 whish I We picked up a tack and our rear tire was 
 flat! It took me about eight minutes to take off 
 that tire and put a new one on, but it seemed like 
 hours. The men who had been telling us how to 
 do it now chmbed into the back of the car and went 
 along with us. We had been on the road only a 
 few minutes when we met a man coming down the 
 road pulling behind him a two-wheeled cart. He 
 raised his hands as a signal to stop. We did. 
 
76 ''Back From Heir' 
 
 Then, with tears streaming down his face, he be- 
 gan to talk to us, pointing to the cart which was 
 covered with old rag carpet. At last he lifted the 
 carpet and showed us the lifeless body of a woman, 
 of his wife I The body was horribly mutilated, the 
 head and right arm were entirely gone and the left 
 hand was blown to shreds. As the poor man 
 looked at the corpse he became fairly frantic, 
 screaming and moaning. We tried to say some 
 words of sympathy but the only answer he could 
 give us was, O, ma femme! ma femme! We 
 climbed out of the car and while we stood there an 
 old man and a little girl came trudging up — the 
 daughter and father of the woman. They, too, 
 began to cry. Suddenly the old man reeled and 
 fell to the ground. When we picked him up he was 
 dead. He had died of a broken heart. We lifted 
 his body into the cart beside that of his daughter. 
 I never felt so heartless in my life as I did when 
 we left that man and little girl to stumble on with 
 their burden of sorrow. 
 
 When we reached the village, the situation con- 
 firmed all the rumors. The shelling had stopped, 
 but the burning of the buildings was almost as bad. 
 We drove down the street to the public square 
 and just then over on the opposite corner a large 
 
On an Old Battle Ground 7J 
 
 caliber shell came crashing In, striking a school 
 building, exploding and producing a fearful effect. 
 Twelve children were killed and the entire school- 
 house destroyed. The force of these large projec- 
 tiles Is almost Inconceivable. Very often a single 
 one will completely annihilate an entire building, 
 reducing It to a pile of bricks, dust and kindling 
 wood. I have seen one of them practically de- 
 molish two houses separated by several feet. 
 
 Well, at last we got to the hospital. Shells had 
 burst around it but none had struck It as yet, and 
 the few people who were there were badly fright- 
 ened. We carried a load of wounded back to the 
 base and with the help of the other ambulances 
 after several hours we evacuated the hospital. Be- 
 fore the work was finished, however, the Germans 
 had shelled the road and It became a difficult mat- 
 ter to pick our way along and dodge the craters. 
 A shell burst just In front of one of the cars and 
 covered the driver with fine pieces of stone and 
 dust. 
 
 As evening drew on the great volcano-like 
 explosions from the guns in the distance lighted up 
 the sky and made an inspiring and awful spectacle. 
 As the guns belched forth their messages of death 
 one might have thought he was In the midst of a 
 
78 ''Back From Hell'' 
 
 hundred powder factories which were exploding 
 periodically. There was something fascinating 
 about It all, yet frightful, but as I reflected on the 
 capacity for ruin and death which those engines of 
 war possessed, I thought I would prefer to be 
 farther away. The firing ceased as night came on 
 and the atmosphere cleared up. A wonderful red 
 moon rose In the heavens above those awful scenes 
 and for some brief hours brought a feeling of 
 peace and calm. 
 
CHAPTER XVI 
 
 THE VERDUN ATTACK — LIFE AND DEATH 
 
 MULTITUDES of people without doubt 
 would like to know what an attack is 
 like, consequently I will try to describe one in 
 the region of Verdun. After serving six hours* 
 notice on the city the Germans* big guns opened 
 up, with large caliber shells at short intervals. 
 Frightened by the fearful bombardment the civil 
 population in multitudes swarmed out of the town 
 and took to the country roads. Thousands of 
 trucks and numbers of guns and soldiers advanc- 
 ing towards the enemy passed these fleeing people. 
 Many camions slipped off the road, turned over, 
 smashed, and were left there, but the procession 
 moved on and on. Horses died and were left to 
 rot on the roadside. Yet the procession bent on 
 grim business never paused. The routes of travel 
 were jammed with soldiers and the rumble and 
 roar of the monster guns of the Teutons dinned 
 into one's ears the message that the world was 
 locked in a death struggle. 
 
 79 
 
8q ''Back From Heir' 
 
 Men and munitions are the only things that 
 count in such an hour; and at Verdun in those 
 perilous times so many thousands of noble men 
 were wounded and cast aside that inconceivable 
 numbers were required to take their places and fill 
 the ranks. Such is the wonderful spirit of France 
 that men always are ready to fill the gaps In the 
 line. They go gladly and I believe they will sac- 
 rifice thus until the very end. 
 
 Peasants were passing by in haste, dragging 
 two-wheeled push carts loaded with the baubles 
 which they counted dear, but which in death are of 
 little value. Coming and going, coming and go- 
 ing, the two processions moved through the weary 
 hours, and still on the horizon the mouths of Hell 
 belched forth their smoke and fire, and across the 
 field was heard the awful rumbling of the guns. 
 Many different kinds of shells were used, produc- 
 ing different effects which could be distinguished 
 by the various colors of smoke emitted In explod- 
 ing. They also filled the air with strange and 
 nauseating odors, and the crumbling houses sent up 
 enormous clouds of dust. 
 
 Without warning out of the night came a bat- 
 tery of guns with a clatter of horses' hoofs and 
 clamor of wheels on the pavement, and in a few 
 
52 -t=' <u 
 
82 ''Back From Heir' 
 
 Verdun is an old fort and reputed to be one of 
 the most formidable fortifications in the world. 
 Had it not been so it would certainly have been 
 crushed like an eggshell before the German on- 
 slaught, for a dozen shells often exploded at the 
 same time, blowing up many buildings, yet the 
 fortress never weakened for an instant. If Verdun 
 had fallen, nothing could have stood. But as Vic- 
 tor Hugo says of Waterloo, " God was passing by 
 and He took charge of things." To our little 
 minds it is all mysterious. Wonderful are the 
 ways of His working, but through one agency or 
 another He always thwarts the designs of evil men 
 and has His way at last. 
 
 Verdun was most important. In every war 
 there are certain battles which the historian calls 
 " strategic," certain points which are pivotal, and 
 the outcome of the engagement there is particu- 
 larly vital. The history and destiny of nations 
 hangs upon them. Such a one was Waterloo a 
 century ago. Gettysburg in the Civil War was an- 
 other one. In this present struggle the Marne and 
 Verdun have been the outstanding pivotal battles, 
 but they were won I Won by the French, who, as 
 I look at it, were held up and led on by the very 
 hand of God. I am not a military expert, and I 
 
The Verdun Attack 83 
 
 have no knowledge or insight that other folk do 
 not possess, but it is my inward judgment that from 
 this time on the battles will be fought east of Ver- 
 dun. That is to say in the main, I doubt very much 
 if the Germans will push through much farther 
 than they are already and I believe that little by 
 little the Allies will crowd them back along the 
 greater portion of the front until victorious. The 
 world must bear in mind, however, that Germany 
 is by no means weak and that she will not be van- 
 quished without an awful struggle. She may also 
 at places advance her line somewhat, but I think 
 no one need now fear as many did in the beginning 
 that Paris will ever be taken, or that Verdun will 
 fall. It has stood the supreme test I 
 
 One must remember, however, that Verdun to- 
 day is not a beautiful sight. The forts are still in- 
 tact and from a military point of view that is all 
 that counts. But from an artistic or aesthetic 
 standpoint, the place is ^orry indeed. When the 
 Germans sent over their incendiary bombs setting 
 the buildings on fire, and then their hail of shrap- 
 nel so the fire could not be put out, they accom- 
 plished sad destruction. Broken pieces of glass, 
 bits of shell and upturned cobblestones fill the 
 streets, and battered carts and wagons lie every- 
 
84 ''Back From Hell'' 
 
 where. Houses are smashed to pieces and smoke- 
 blackened brick and charred timbers, the worthless 
 remains of burned buildings are seen on every 
 hand. From the individual viewpoint Verdun is 
 very sad, extremely so. Thousands of people have 
 been driven from their homes and when they left 
 they had to say good-bye to those homes forever. 
 Multitudes have had loved ones killed while oth- 
 ers have lost track of their relatives and probably 
 will never find them. Beautiful edifices, the ful- 
 filment of the artists' dream, have been battered 
 and burned down, and in that city at the present 
 moment Art is not I All this is lamentable. 
 
 Yet from the larger point of view, that of 
 France, Verdun is a glorious triumph. From the 
 national and even the world standpoint, Verdun 
 means one more thwarting of the tyrant's design 
 and one more victory for Truth and Right. When 
 we rise above today, and look at things in the light 
 of human progress, our value judgments alter 
 much. The world will not care much whether this 
 or that individual lost his house or farm, for a 
 ruined city will rise again, but the heart of the 
 world leaps with joy when It realizes that the des- 
 pot has been checked! And even the French in- 
 dividual possesses such an indomitable spirit of 
 
The Verdun Attack 85 
 
 patriotism that he will not mourn for his temporal 
 losses just so the future of France is not impaired. 
 The long sacrifice and the enduring suffering are 
 borne by these patient people with remarkable 
 calm. They endure today in silence, their Calvary 
 of war, the bloody Golgotha of France. 
 
 Yet I would not have you think that war is all 
 battle. Not all of the hours nor even the days of 
 the men in the war country are taken up with 
 thoughts of horror, or in listening to the explo- 
 sions of shells, or the carrying of mangled or lacer- 
 ated men. The war is so gigantic in its opera- 
 tion and it covers so vast an area that millions of 
 the people engaged find themselves many times 
 occupied with the most peaceful thoughts and the 
 most commonplace pursuits. If all of the people 
 engaged were compelled continually to face the 
 cannon and the barbed wire, or to listen to the 
 moans of the dying, and feel that they themselves 
 were apt to be taken off at any minute, they would 
 not be the cool-headed people that they are, but 
 Instead would be a crowd of raving maniacs. The 
 person thousands of miles away from the spectacle 
 who only reads about it often gets a wrong impres- 
 sion on this point. Nations are mobilized; multi- 
 tudes are under arms; thousands are engaged in 
 
86 ''Back From HeW' 
 
 assisting those who fight intermittently — and no 
 soldier fights except intermittently, a week or so on 
 and several days off — and, consequently, not in- 
 frequently there are hours or even days when one 
 takes the even tenor of his way far from the battle 
 front, much the same as he does in times of peace. 
 
 On such an evening, I found myself writing a 
 letter, as letters to me of late had been rather 
 scarce. I was sitting in a plain, bare hut with 
 a kerosene lamp, and a peculiar letter it was that 
 I wrote. I had seen some odd writing paper in a 
 little stationery store and had paid a couple of 
 cents for three or four sheets of it. Each sheet 
 was arranged by the manufacturer so as to make a 
 complete letter. If you were to take an ordinary 
 sheet of paper and perforate it on the sewing ma- 
 chine on all four sides about half an inch from the 
 edge, then put some mucilage on that half inch 
 margin and let it dry, folding it across the middle, 
 you would have a piece of this one-letter stationery. 
 As it happened there was a little wording on the 
 outside, and a square for the postage stamp. All 
 you have to do is to write the address on the out- 
 side, open it out, pen your missive inside, fold it 
 and wet the edges all the way round, thus sticking 
 it, and you then have your letter so to speak, on 
 
The Verdun Attack 87 
 
 the inside of your envelope and the receiver simply 
 tears off the perforated edges, opens it up, and 
 reads. 
 
 I was writing on this odd French stationery after 
 a day of idleness. My table consisted of two 
 boards thrown across a couple of sawhorses — a 
 very comfortable table by the way, but the kero- 
 sene lamp smelled badly. My thoughts were of 
 America and home. I was in a soliloquizing mood 
 and I also wanted the letter as a souvenir, when I 
 returned. And so I began : 
 
 My dear sir, self: U. S. A., When you receive this 
 epistle you will be far away from the scenes which now 
 confront you. You may sometimes think you have it 
 pretty hard staying out here in France away from home 
 and loved ones, having no money, dead broke, and labor- 
 ing without pay, and often getting little time to rest or 
 sleep. But listen, son, you must realize that you are at 
 this hour in the very midst of the biggest crisis of history. 
 The world has never seen such a moment and if you had 
 missed having a part in it you would have kicked yourself 
 throughout eternity. Your own little life anyway is not 
 an important thing to the world. A few dollars more 
 and a position of ease doesn't make any difference, and if 
 you learn the lesson, my boy, that giving yourself in a 
 noble cause and living for others, is the greatest thing in 
 life you will have found happiness and gained all things. 
 Please take this little suggestion in the proper spirit and 
 set it to work. Also remember that never again in your 
 life will you ever get a reception from anyone which is 
 
88 "Back From Hell" 
 
 SO beautiful as that which the French people are giving 
 you right at this hour - ' 
 
 At this moment the door opened and a hurry 
 call was brought in for three hundred wounded. A 
 great battle had been fought and our boys were 
 needed at once. I stuck the letter in my pocket and 
 went out. In ten minutes we were on the road. 
 Arriving In the night at the station where the men 
 were to be brought in we were told that the train 
 would not arrive for at least an hour and we knew 
 that that might mean six hours, as It often did. 
 Things were fairly quiet here, but now and then we 
 saw the shell flashes and occasionally heard the 
 booming of the guns. I went Into a little structure 
 nearby prepared to wait as long as need be. While 
 sitting there I got out my odd French stationery 
 and began finishing that letter to myself. I wrote : 
 
 And may that beautiful French hospitality always be 
 a bright spot in your life. And when your time comes to 
 " shuffle off this mortal coil," whether violently or peace- 
 fully, may you remember that many a better man out here 
 has done so courageously for a heroic cause. Take this 
 to yourself. Good-bye. 
 
 Sincerely, 
 
 Your Friend. 
 
 I folded the top of the letter down over the bot- 
 tom and wet the edges with my tongue, pressing 
 
The Verdun Attack 89 
 
 them together, and put it in my pocket ready to 
 mail. I had just turned around when — rip — 
 bang — a monstrous bomb burst right in the block 
 where I was sitting, tearing a hole fifteen inches in 
 diameter right through the roof, and totally envel- 
 oping everyone in blinding, choking dust. The 
 concussion put out the candle and as I had no 
 matches, I just sat there half dazed for several 
 minutes coughing and sneezing and wondering 
 what was coming next. Finally I rubbed my eyes 
 and felt my way out of the place, only to find that 
 one of the cars had been smashed to toothpicks 
 by the shell as it went off. 
 
 As I met one of the boys he said, " Where were 
 you?" I answered, "Inside writing a message to 
 myself — but it was a more thrilling message to 
 myself that came, in the way of that explosion." 
 
 ''Well, I should think so," he replied. ''Here- 
 after you had better not bother writing to yourself; 
 next time I'd write to the other fellow." And I 
 thought it was pretty good philosophy. 
 
 Half an hour later the trains came In, bearing 
 the wounded in numbers. By working until one 
 o'clock next day without any food, we finally got 
 the wounded cared for and distributed, there being 
 400 of them Instead of 300 as first reported. 
 
90 ''Back From Hell'' 
 
 Providence, however, appears to have seen to it 
 that men do not suffer when engaged In work of 
 this kind, and I never heard any of the men com- 
 plain of being hungry. Sometimes, however, at the 
 stations, kind women provided coffee and sand- 
 wiches for the ambulance men as well as for the 
 wounded, and when this was so they never went 
 amiss. 
 
 Back at headquarters one day an amusing inci- 
 dent occurred. I had bought a beautiful French 
 pipe sometime before which I valued greatly. It 
 happened, however, that I had gone out one after- 
 noon and left It lying on my bed, which consisted 
 of a straw mattress on the floor. While I was 
 gone a couple of French pollus had come in to 
 chat with the other boys. One of the pollus had 
 been imbibing a bit and was feeling pretty good, 
 I guess. He sat down on my bed and two of our 
 boys did the same, thinking to talk and have a 
 little fun with him. While the Frenchman was 
 sitting there his eye fell upon that pretty pipe of 
 mine and he picked It up admiringly, hinting to the 
 boys that he would like to have It. They told him 
 it was not theirs but they felt sure that the owner 
 would not care if he took it. So he put It in his 
 pocket with a wink and laid his cheap, smelly one 
 
The Verdun Attack 91 
 
 in its place. He then noticed a little yellow cap 
 on the bed. It was a sort of skullcap affair which 
 the boys all wore when sleeping to keep their 
 heads warm. When Mr. Poilu saw it he expressed 
 a desire to have it also. The boys told him the 
 cap belonged to me but they knew I would willingly 
 let him have it. He took the cap and presently 
 went out. 
 
 Imagine my chagrin on returning at being told 
 that one of the poUus had taken my treasured pipe 
 and my nightcap I I did not care so much for the 
 cap but I was very sorry to lose the pipe. I knew 
 that the boys would not be able to Identify this 
 one man among all those hundreds who wore long 
 blue coats and red trousers. But fortune was kind. 
 Early the next morning when we were going to 
 breakfast, we passed a large crowd of pollus, and 
 one of our boys began to laugh. He called out, 
 " Benson, there goes your nightcap ! " And sure 
 enough, on the head of a pollu, sticking down 
 below his military cap, was the yellow edge of my 
 nightcap. That identified my man, and I rushed 
 gleefully over and smilingly said in my execrable 
 French, " Monsieur, I believe I have your pipe," 
 holding it up to his gaze. He took it, saying, 
 "Yes; thank you." But he did not offer me my 
 
92 ''Back From Hell'' 
 
 pipe, and there was an embarrassing pause. After 
 a moment I said, " Perhaps, Monsieur, you have 
 my pipe?'* He smiled again and said, *'Yes," 
 and fished it out of his pocket. We both laughed, 
 and I felt so good that I did not ask him for the 
 cap. He's welcome to it. But as for the pipe, I 
 now prize it more highly than before. 
 
CHAPTER XVII 
 
 BARRAGE, OR CURTAIN FIRE 
 
 AT THIS juncture let me run over the devel- 
 opment of barrage fire as military critics 
 look upon and explain it. 
 
 Petain, the great French general, has given 
 expression to one of the outstanding facts of the 
 present war. He says, "The artillery conquers, 
 the infantry occupies.'* This, in a few words, is 
 the explanation of that new method of attack 
 by " barrage " or, as the English call it, " curtain 
 fire." 
 
 This system of attacking the enemy is a new 
 one and has proven most effective for the Allies. 
 In a nutshell, it creates what might be called a 
 danger zone, or, better still, a death zone, just in 
 front of the advancing soldiers. As the soldiers 
 move on ahead the barrage moves on, or it may 
 be more proper to say that the soldiers move just 
 as slowly as the curtain of fire moves, for if they 
 do not, fatal consequences follow. If they should 
 go too fast they would run into the barrage and 
 
 93 
 
94 ''Back From Heir 
 
 would be killed by their own artillery, which is in 
 the rear of the trenches. Occasionally a soldier 
 becomes too enthusiastic and goes too fast for the 
 barrage, and then disaster follows. Accuracy, in 
 time and in range, is the one thing which must 
 be most strictly observed by the men who are con- 
 ducting the barrage hundreds of yards back of the 
 line. 
 
 These men project a hail of shells over the 
 heads of their own infantry and across a thin 
 strip of land parallel to the enemy's trench and 
 directed in the first place at his barbed-wire de- 
 fenses. This line or belt of bursting shells must 
 be so fierce and continuous as to make it impossible 
 for any man to go through it, or at least so peril- 
 ous and costly to life that no one in his proper 
 senses would try the hazardous experiment. It 
 requires a rapid firing gun for this kind of war- 
 fare, and as armies have not had such guns here- 
 tofore, of course, the barrage fire was unknown. 
 It is one of the new things that have been evolved 
 during this war. The French soixante-quinze, or 
 " seventy-five millimeter," has been the marvel in 
 gun making which has made this curtain fire possi- 
 ble. It is a gun which shoots very rapidly, which 
 does not displace itself each time it shoots, and 
 
Barrage, or Curtain Fire 95 
 
 which is able to discharge an average of twenty- 
 five three-inch shells every minute without greatly 
 heating up. No gun was ever invented before 
 which could accomplish such a feat. 
 
 The older four-inch gun of the French Army, 
 which the seventy-five displaced, could never have 
 shown the efficiency in this direction that the soix- 
 ante-quinze demonstrates. In the first place its 
 rate of shooting was much too slow, but even if it 
 had been a great deal faster a continuous accuracy 
 was impossible. When it was first aimed its fire 
 could be carefully controlled, but the trouble with 
 it was it threw itself out of place every time it shot. 
 The recoil from such guns is very considerable and 
 the older gun made no provision for it, conse- 
 quently it had to be aimed all over again every 
 time it was fired because the rebound caused it 
 to dig into the earth and change its entire posi- 
 tion. The new soixante-quinze makes careful 
 provision for this factor of recoil and is fitted up 
 like a Ford car with shock absorbers, so that it is 
 ready for the second shot as soon as the first is 
 fired, and for the third as soon as the second is 
 fired. It maintains a fixed position, accelerating 
 very greatly the speed at which it can be fired at 
 any given target. The old four-inch gun fell down 
 
96 ''Back From Heir' 
 
 just here. The result was that its highest rate of 
 speed was only a quarter of that which could be 
 attained when a field piece was invented, absorbing 
 its recoil and thus leaving its position unchanged. 
 The only limit to the speed of the new gun, there- 
 fore. Is the rate at which it can be loaded and the 
 degree of temperature it can stand without explod- 
 ing shells prematurely, but even this latter danger 
 is provided for in this gun, thus keeping it to the 
 minimum. The only elements that prevent abso- 
 lute accuracy today are slight differences in the 
 shells or perhaps a change of wind, which are, 
 however, practically negligible factors. 
 
 Formerly, in the use of the other gun there was 
 the personal variation of the man who aimed the 
 gun quickly, after each shot had displaced or dis- 
 arranged it, and the other man who assisted him. 
 Each new aiming and shooting of the piece re- 
 quired an absolutely distinct series of movements 
 and thus for every shot there was that much more 
 possibility of error on account of the imperfect co- 
 ordinating of the two men engaged. In this con- 
 nection let me say that the curtain fire, which was 
 evolved by the modern quick firing seventy-five, 
 was very soon discovered and quickly adopted and 
 utilized by Germany also. 
 
Barrage, or Curtain Fire 97 
 
 When first used the purpose of curtain fire was 
 simply to guard or make possible the forward 
 movement of the infantry and was kept well ahead 
 of them, usually one or two hundred yards. It 
 was also uniform all along the line as far as it 
 extended; that is, if it moved ahead a hundred feet 
 at one point it moved the same amount at every 
 other point. It is a ticklish thing at first for men 
 to advance upon the enemy's trenches with their 
 own artillery booming away at their rear and 
 shooting right over their own heads. But the 
 trenches are seldom parallel. Often the country 
 is rough and whereas the enemy may be dug in a 
 hundred yards away at one point, it may be that 
 fifty rods farther down the lines, the trenches are 
 three hundred yards apart. In the main we speak 
 of the lines being parallel, but as a matter of fact 
 they very seldom are so. 
 
 During the early days of the war if one of the 
 opponents were going to make an attack he ham- 
 mered the enemy's position with heavy guns which 
 were concealed or camouflaged perhaps ^vt miles 
 behind the front line trenches. The bombardment 
 lasted until it was assumed most of the enemy's 
 soldiers had taken refuge in the dugouts and 
 were so disorganized that they could not effectively 
 
98 ''Back From Heir' 
 
 resist. Besides this his trenches would be so bat- 
 tered that the chances of success for the well- 
 planned assault would be the best. The time 
 must be accurately arranged previously. All lieu- 
 tenants and captains who directed the barrage 
 must keep exact time and have watches timed to 
 the second. My own brother, Brenton, is now a 
 lieutenant of artillery and I had the pleasure of 
 presenting him with a beautiful stop-watch before 
 he went into action. 
 
 At the given signal the barrage raised and the 
 doughboys went over the top, hustled down the 
 lanes which had been previously cut in their own 
 barbed wire by the wiring party, made their way 
 across No Man's Land, stooping low as they went, 
 dropping flat to the ground every few yards, and 
 trying to get to the trenches of the enemy before 
 they could be stopped. 
 
 But the machine guns of the enemy were found 
 to be too formidable and destructive, and as a 
 result of this experience they learned to use the 
 light artillery which could continue its fire even 
 while the attacking party were moving on, advanc- 
 ing as they advanced. The lighter field pieces were 
 placed within a few hundred yards in the rear of 
 the trenches and used to blind the Germans from 
 
Barrage, or Curtain Fire 99 
 
 protecting themselves, as well as to cover the ad- 
 vancing troops until they took the trenoh. Then 
 the curtain fire was thrown still farther back be- 
 hind the German line. 
 
 This process plainly was a very delicate one, 
 even in its beginning. It seemed a little nervy to 
 order soldiers to advance while above their heads 
 hissed and barked their own gunners' shells. Some- 
 times these would burst before they got to the cur- 
 tain line and casualties would inevitably result. It 
 was rather ticklish business for the men to charge 
 forward even if they were a couple of hundred 
 yards behind such a hail of steel. 
 
 Soon, however, another improvement was put 
 into effect and that was to shorten the barrage to 
 sixty yards, letting the soldiers advance with 
 the exploding shells nearer and nearer to their own 
 bodies. Of course, there was great advantage in 
 this, as the closer the troops were to the curtain 
 fire ahead, the better they were protected and the 
 shorter was the time after the curtain was lifted 
 until the troops occupied the trench. Cutting this 
 time down to the minimum made it so much harder 
 for the Germans to emerge from their hiding and 
 resist the oncoming troops. The science of this 
 was at last so well worked out that a gap of less 
 
lOO ''Back From Hell'' 
 
 than forty yards lay between the curtain and the 
 troops and sometimes only thirty yards which 
 could be covered In a couple of seconds after the 
 barrage was lifted* Time, of course, is the chief 
 element in the endeavor to get the bulge on the 
 other fellow. 
 
 Finally the British worked out what they call 
 the "creeping barrage.'* This takes into account 
 the fact that the trenches are never exactly straight 
 and parallel. But here the camera came to the 
 aid of the Allies and It told them just how much 
 deviation from the parallel there was. From 
 these photographs the relative positions of the 
 trenches at any given point were plotted out accu- 
 rately, showing the Irregular shape of No Man's 
 Land and the variation of Its width at all the dif- 
 ferent places. The Allies then dug identical 
 trenches in the rear and practiced on them. This 
 changed the method of curtain fire from " regu- 
 lar" to "creeping." From that time the barrage 
 started in a line which first followed the shape of 
 our own fire trench, but as it moved forward the 
 configuration was altered and it swayed and wrig- 
 gled like a snake gradually taking the shape of the 
 enemy's trench. Plainly, it required much deeper 
 skill to employ this method, but its advantages 
 
Barrage, or Gurilit'fi, pirtJ , ; , mOi. 
 
 were great. Instead of all the gunners shooting 
 in unison at a single command, each one had 
 a different job to perform in order to make the 
 barrage conform with the angle which the trenches 
 made. This is now the general method and has 
 been brought up to a marvelous degree of accu- 
 racy as well as speed. 
 
 At practically the same time the creeping 
 barrage was conceived, another idea which has 
 also been extremely useful was developed. This 
 was the second curtain of fire to be thrown in the 
 rear of the enemy's trenches to cut off his retreat 
 and to prevent the coming up of reinforcements. 
 The first curtain covered your advance and hin- 
 dered his resistance, and the second one beyond 
 him kept new forces from coming to his aid with 
 food, munitions, and information. 
 
 The method which is used almost universally 
 In attacking today, then, is this. 
 
 Big guns *' prepare '' the way by hammering the 
 trenches of the enemy and simultaneously driving 
 him to the dugouts and bashing In the trenches 
 which shelter him. Your doughboys then go " over 
 the top " and advance, covered by the curtain fire, 
 at first conforming In shape to their own trenches, 
 and little by little wriggling Into the form of the 
 
im ' : ; '/IBmk Rrom Heir' 
 
 enemy's trenches as it comes nearer to them. 
 Closely following the moving barrage is your in- 
 fantry. Then another barrage in the enemy's rear 
 is cutting him off from reinforcements and after 
 a time the trench is captured and perhaps many 
 prisoners taken. It Is hot hard to understand from 
 this modern method of attack what the French gen- 
 eral meant when he said, "The artillery conquers, 
 the infantry occupies." 
 
 Barraging on the field today is much the same 
 as running a great ocean liner. The man who sees 
 is not the man who does ! The lookout or observer 
 has nothing to do with the actual control of the 
 vessel. The battery on the field is pulled up into 
 position by horses, then lined up for action and 
 the horses are hurried back to a safe place. The 
 lieutenant directs the fire and the gunners do the 
 firing, but no one sees his target or his results. 
 Just behind them, a telephone operator receives 
 the messages, sitting perhaps, in a shell hole or 
 a dugout. The battery commander is the man 
 who really bosses the whole job from his obser- 
 vation post. He is well named because he really 
 commands the battery, though from a position 
 perhaps miles in front of the battery. The lieu- 
 tenant Is always listening as the telephone opera- 
 
Barrage, or Curtain Fire 103 
 
 tor is getting his instructions from the commander 
 at the front. In the first place the lieutenant 
 learns roughly the direction in which to shoot, 
 but soon he gets more detailed direction before 
 firing his first shot, which is in reality an experi- 
 ment. Standing a short distance behind the bat- 
 tery, he plainly sees every gun. Then he shouts, 
 " Ready I " When the command to fire comes over 
 the telephone he issues a signal. The man at the 
 first gun raises his hand, five seconds are counted, 
 and as he drops his hand the gun is fired. Gun 
 number two does the same and ^o on down the 
 line. The gunner cannot see and does not know 
 anything about the result. The man at the tele- 
 phone calls out, " Battery has fired." 
 
 The only man in all this operation who gives 
 orders and sees results Is the battery commander. 
 Usually he can see the target clearly. Sometimes, 
 however, when this is not possible the balloon and 
 the airplane have to do it for him. The battery 
 commander with the telephone operator in his 
 rear knows exactly the way the guns are pointed 
 and the distance to be covered. He can estimate 
 quickly and figure up the necessary corrections, 
 and this message may go back to the battery, " One 
 hundred yards over and fifty yards to the right." 
 
I04 ''Back From Heir 
 
 The sergeants then again revolve their control 
 wheels. 
 
 The Good Book says, *'A great ship is turned 
 about by a very small helm." And so does a great 
 gun respond very quickly to the most delicate 
 touch of the wheel. The gauge is very fine and 
 accurate and a hair's difference there means rods 
 of difference where the shell falls. If the initial 
 shot went a hundred yards over, perhaps the sec- 
 ond goes one hundred yards too short. The direc- 
 tion is correct. Again in obedience to a message 
 from the commander the little wheels move, and 
 the elevation of the gun is corrected. The 
 third shell, perhaps, goes over fifty yards and the 
 fourth fifty under. Very well, the range is some- 
 where between those last two shots. "Give 'em 
 hell. Salvo I " shouts the lieutenant : salvo mean- 
 ing the firing of all the guns at one time. 
 
 Sometimes it is not practical to have an observa- 
 tion post located so as to allow the commander 
 of the battery to see the result and direct the shell 
 fire. In this case he has a balloon which is fastened 
 to the earth by a cable and sent up behind the lines 
 and out of range of the Germans. At best it is 
 an uncomfortable position to be in ; hung up in a 
 basket maybe four thousand feet above terra 
 
Barrage, or Curtain Firs 105 
 
 firma, with German fliers hovering about and try- 
 ing to blow you into eternity. It's not soothing to 
 the nerves to say the least, even though you know 
 that if the balloon takes fire, you have a parachute 
 to drop with. 
 
 Again the enemy's battery may be situated so 
 that the balloon man cannot find its location. In 
 this case the airplane solves the problem, for it 
 goes to any desired height, then scouts over the 
 enemy's trenches and does the "spotting." Of 
 course, communication with an airplane is not as 
 easy as with a balloon which has wires running to 
 it, but the airplane can send wireless messages 
 down, which are received on the earth, and to 
 make up for the impossibility of the aviator receiv- 
 ing them in return, owing to the noise of his 
 powerful motor, the men on the ground use a sys- 
 tem of signals like the wigwag flag method. This 
 is done by large panels which are in distinct con- 
 trast to their background, and move according to 
 a certain code. 
 
CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 THE RAGPICKER 
 
 THE salvage from a modern battle is a thing 
 which I suppose few people ever stop to 
 think about. Where hundreds upon hundreds of 
 thousands of men have been engaged in shooting 
 iron and steel as fast as they can fire it, the amount of 
 these metals which lies about is something almost 
 beyond conception. And the amount too, which 
 buries itself beneath the surface of the earth is 
 enormous. The money value and military worth 
 of these vast quantities of metal is also a thing 
 which must be taken into consideration. A battle 
 field today is little less than a great ocean of craters 
 which oftentimes touch one another. Most people, 
 if they thought about it at all, would take it for 
 granted that this debris, this wastage, has gone 
 back to earth from whence it came, there to re- 
 main until the elements in the soil and water disin- 
 tegrate and metamorphose the metals from their 
 present form back to their original state In the 
 bowels of the earth. But this is usually not the case. 
 
 io6 
 
The Ragpicker 107 
 
 Walking over a battle ground after a severe 
 fight you may see thousands of shells which have 
 never been shot because the regiment to which 
 they belonged was obliged to retreat posthaste, 
 leaving these as well as other valuable material 
 behind. Frequently the Germans, having been 
 forced out of their positions, have abandoned thou- 
 sands of unexploded shells and hand grenades. 
 Bayonets lie around topsy-turvy and helmets by 
 the hundreds are to be seen on every hand. Mod- 
 ern rifles dropped by hands that will never hold an- 
 other and cartridges not fired because the company 
 went forward, perhaps when the Germans beat a 
 hasty retreat, are the commonest of sights upon 
 almost every battle field in Europe. Certainly all 
 of this necessary and vital material cannot be 
 wasted. It must not be allowed to lie unused when 
 it is so essential to the army. 
 
 Instead, it Is picked up and sorted out, classified 
 and cleaned, and prepared to be used again. Much 
 of It IS too dangerous to be left lying about and 
 most of it is too valuable to be ignored. There- 
 fore squads of men are organized, made up often- 
 times of the older soldiers, and a few days after 
 an engagement you can see them groping about the 
 earth and stooping over the shell-scarred ground 
 
io8 ''Back From Hell'' 
 
 carefully examining it in a most minute and pains- 
 taking manner. 
 
 In America the scavenger, the ragpicker, and 
 the garbage man are looked upon as very low in 
 the scale of social refinement, but these ragpickers 
 of the battle field are honored and respected by the 
 French Army, because they are conserving the ma- 
 terials which are most vital to the success of the 
 Republic. Much risk is also encountered in this 
 work of salvage and not infrequently these men 
 lose their lives, for shells from the German guns 
 often go beyond their mark. 
 
 When stores of supplies are found in good con- 
 dition, of course they are used at once, if possible, 
 but much of the material must be sent back in mo- 
 tor lorries to be sorted and remade. Some concep- 
 tion of the economic saving accomplished by this 
 work may be formed when you consider that after 
 one battle many tons of copper were gathered up 
 and loaded and sent back to the rear. Thousands 
 of tons of steel and iron were also rescued In the 
 same locality and in addition hundreds of rifles 
 with millions of rounds of ammunition. Of course 
 these materials are remolded and then go back once 
 more to Mother Earth where much of it will again 
 be picked up. At the close of the war, the 
 
The Ragpicker 109 
 
 land which is now being fought over will be of 
 little value for agricultural purposes because it has 
 been so tortured and mangled by the digging of 
 trenches and the gougings of the shell holes, but 
 it will be exceedingly valuable on account of the 
 steel and copper which are buried there. 
 
 Scientists tell us that nothing is in reality ever 
 lost or wasted and a battle field gives a most strik- 
 ing illustration of this law of the indestructibility 
 of matter. We are prone to say that war is all 
 waste, and that the enormous quantities of iron 
 and steel, trees and horses (and even men), which 
 are used up become a fearful waste in nature. Yet 
 it is literally true as a thoughtful Irishman said 
 to me in France, " Nature protects the land." In 
 other words, Mother Earth from which every- 
 thing comes protects and perpetuates herself so 
 that no nation or generation can destroy her. All 
 trees which are battered to pieces and all the flesh 
 which decays and rots, go back to earth once more 
 to fertilize and season it so that in the next 
 generation it will bring forth and bear plentifully. 
 As the Good Book says : " All go to one place ; all 
 is of the dust. The body returneth to the earth 
 as it was and the spirit returneth unto God who 
 gave It." 
 
[iio ''Back From Heir 
 
 There Is no waste in the material universe. The 
 only waste which comes from war materially is for 
 the present generation in that things which were 
 in a form which we could use have been changed 
 to a form less useful but which will be used some- 
 time again. The great waste of war as I look at 
 it is the moral and spiritual waste where men be- 
 come fiends and go out to conquer and steal and 
 rape and kill, thus using up their spiritual powers 
 and possibilities in destructive enterprises which 
 might have been put toward constructive elevation 
 of the race. Men lose their souls Instead of saving 
 them. And yet — the fiendlshness of one country 
 brings out the angel of the other In causing men 
 to rouse to duty and to honor and justice, whereas 
 without this incentive who knows but that we 
 might sink down in self-sufficiency and retrograde, 
 thus all of us losing our souls? It seems that all 
 through God's universe there is struggle and strife, 
 and that moral and spiritual fiber require these 
 things for their best development. 
 
 The work of Christ, Christianity, prospered be- 
 cause It had to struggle for existence, and when 
 a nation or an individual ceases to struggle it goes 
 backward. This thought may be a Job's com- 
 forter to those who pay the fearful price and yet 
 
The Ragpicker in 
 
 we must look at it in this way. Men must fight to 
 get the highest freedom, not lie back and accept 
 their fate, else they have only the freedom of the 
 Germans under the Hohenzollerns. There is al- 
 ways some remnant of salvage out of the most 
 fearful waste. Thus earth goes in a cycle. 
 
CHAPTER XIX 
 
 CAMOUFLAGE 
 
 THE system of camouflage which the French 
 have worked out in this war, is something 
 new also. The word has come to mean in America 
 " dodging," " deception," *' bunk," or anything that 
 is not out in the open and above board; and that 
 is just what camouflage means in the war in 
 France. It Is a method by which things are made 
 to appear to be what they are not, for the purpose 
 of fooling the enemy. It makes an artificial thing 
 seem to be a natural thing so that it will not excite 
 suspicion and draw his fire. When the French 
 place a battery of guns which naturally they do not 
 want put out of commission by the enemy's guns, 
 they have the camouflage artist get busy with his 
 paint and canvas and create a whole lot of little 
 trees or bushes just like the ones which grow in the 
 ground and then under cover of darkness when 
 the enemy can't see them, or when his attention is 
 distracted, they plant the trees, place the guns be- 
 hind them, and they have a concealed battery. 
 
 112 
 
Camouflage 113 
 
 Snipers are also often hidden in this same kind 
 of a manner. The camoufleur with his magic art 
 of scenery makes a dead horse. He has his head 
 stretched way out on the ground and his legs point- 
 ing up in the air, stiff and stark. A great hole or 
 chunk has been torn out of his body, but as it hap- 
 pens, it is never right through the middle part of 
 him because this would not leave protection for the 
 sniper. The horse "conveniently" had the shell 
 strike him on the side. He is placed wherever he 
 will do the most good in the night time and Mr. 
 Sharpshooter, with his noiseless rifle and plenty 
 of ammunition and one day's food, crawls in be- 
 hind him. There he stays till daybreak. Yes, and 
 a long while after. He must stay there all day 
 long until darkness again draws down a curtain of 
 safety about him, for if he attempted to move 
 out in daylight some sniper or machine-gun artist 
 would instantly pick him off. If he lays low till 
 dark he may fool them and get away all right. 
 
 But the camera sometimes discovers things 
 which the human eye would not detect, and the 
 camera is always busy. The air flier might soar 
 above a spot in the enemy's lines and not notice 
 anything wrong or see that there was any object 
 in addition to what was there the day before, but 
 
114 ''Back From Heir' 
 
 when he snapped the shutter of his camera and the 
 photograph was developed, by comparing it with 
 yesterday's photograph of the same place, he might 
 see that there was an extra horse's carcass lying 
 there. Now he knows there was no cavalry charge 
 through the night, and so he becomes suspicious. 
 Consequently the horse is watched. Perhaps in 
 time, some one sees the man's arm protruding a 
 little, or perhaps a man is picked off without any 
 apparent cause. 
 
 Just for luck the enemy takes a shot at the old 
 dead horse and suddenly a man rises and tries to 
 run back. But he stumbles and falls. He is killed. 
 Perhaps he has accounted for a half a dozen Boches 
 during the day and the Frenchman dies happy. 
 That's what he's there for, to sacrifice his life for 
 France in weakening Germany's cruel hold upon 
 his country. 
 
 If it was certain that they could account for 
 such a proportion of Germans, ten thousand 
 Frenchmen would willingly step out tomorrow and 
 go into sure death for La Belle France and Lib- 
 erty I Very often they camouflage roads with ever- 
 green trees so as to hide the view of the motor 
 lorries and camions which are so essential in tak- 
 ing supplies and ammunition up to the front. An 
 
Camouflage 115 
 
 old forlorn and battered gun may camouflage a 
 fine new field piece, and sometimes a weather- 
 beaten, broken-down piece of farm machinery may 
 be counterfeited In order to hide an observer, a lis- 
 tener, or a sniper. Such a man must be of a stout 
 heart and not afraid to go over the Great Divide 
 for it is full of hazard. If he is discovered it's all 
 over for him. 
 
CHAPTER XX 
 
 THE HEROISM OF THE WOUNDED 
 
 ONE poor fellow whose feet were bare, at- 
 tracted my attention. When I looked at him 
 more carefully I noticed that he had no shirt and I 
 asked him what had happened to him and what 
 had become of his clothes. At first he did not 
 want to tell me, but when I inquired again, with a 
 kind of embarrassed and self-conscious look upon 
 his face Louis related this tale to me. 
 
 His old acquaintance and fellow-townsman, 
 Paul, was In the same company with him. Back 
 in the little home town before the war they had 
 been enemies. They had both been bad men, 
 crooks and drunkards, and had at one time tried to 
 kill each other. For years they had hated and had 
 as little to do with each other as possible. It all 
 started over an insignificant something, but never- 
 theless the dislike had grown until It had become 
 very bitter and each was continually on the lookout 
 to find a chance to do the other a mean turn when 
 possible. They had cursed each other many a time 
 
 zi6 
 
The Heroism of the Wounded 117 
 
 when their paths crossed, but as far as possible 
 they had tried to avoid meeting. But when the 
 war came they had been placed together side by 
 side as comrades In the battle. Their officers 
 had told them that they were not to think of self 
 now, because their fight was for La Belle France, 
 Day after day they drilled together and week 
 after week performed the hard labor which was 
 allotted them, side by side, until at last they out- 
 grew their ancient antipathy, and finally became 
 bosom friends. Then they were sent to the 
 trenches. Together they held the line In the same 
 fire bay, and hour after hour both looked Into 
 the muzzles of the German guns. They had on 
 different occasions gone "over the top" together, 
 and neither of them had been hurt at all. At 
 last, however, early one morning when the Ger- 
 mans made a mighty charge, fate was against both. 
 The bombardment had been blinding and when 
 the Boches came tearing " over the top '' these two 
 sturdy poilus stood their ground and held the 
 enemy back. A German was just about to make 
 a lunge at Louis when Paul, with a spring, jumped 
 in front of him, receiving a bayonet thrust In his 
 lung, and also a terrible wound In his ankle. Louis 
 had been painfully wounded In his left shoulder. 
 
ii8 ''Back From Heir 
 
 His wound was not dangerous but Paul was about 
 " done in," and was breathing hard as he had lost 
 a large amount of blood from the hole in the lower 
 part of his leg. Here the narrator's eyes began to 
 fill with tears. 
 
 " I couldn't let the poor fellow bleed to death 
 after he had saved my life. I tore up my shirt 
 into bandages and tied them around his leg, and 
 then so they would not come off and also to keep 
 his feet warm I took my socks and pulled them on 
 his feet. What else could I do ? I tried to fix up 
 his injured lung also, but — " and then the tears 
 burst forth and he sobbed like a baby. " It didn't 
 do any good and Paul lies over there now." I 
 glanced over in the direction where he pointed and 
 sure enough there was Paul, bandaged up with 
 strips of shirt and wearing a pair of socks over 
 the bandages. But the black angel had already 
 come to him. He had " gone West." 
 
 I talked with the man a little more and he 
 opened up his heart to me. At best life is a strange 
 thing to understand. Here were two human be- 
 ings who previously, by heredity or environment, 
 or else their own devilishness, had been evil char- 
 acters. They were known as such by their ac- 
 quaintances and they knew each other as such. 
 
The Heroism of the Wounded 119 
 
 Their lives had been unenviable to say the least, 
 and then at last through war, that fearful and awful 
 thing, each man had been made better and the 
 angel had come out of what before seemed a devil. 
 Not only was Paul a bad man but he had hated 
 the other man and yet here he was doing a noble 
 and self-sacrificing deed and not only that, but 
 doing it for his enemy; giving up his life for his 
 old foe. 
 
 And here was the other man, showing a grati- 
 tude which was noble towards the man he had 
 hated and who had tried to kill him. He gave 
 up his own shirt and took off his own socks to 
 try to keep warm the feet of the dying Paul and 
 to keep the blood, which meant life, in his body. 
 It did not accomplish the result but my narrator 
 would not take back his socks as he said he wanted 
 the man who died for him to have this little gift 
 and be buried in them. Such heroism is not un- 
 common in the trenches. 
 
 After all there are some compensations even 
 for war. In many instances it may bring out all 
 the hate and the hell that is in a man's heart but I 
 have also seen hundreds of cases where it made 
 men much better than they had ever been before. 
 It made them better men and better Christians; 
 
I20 ''Back From Heir' 
 
 not necessarily of the shouting type but of the 
 kind, of which One said: "He that giveth a cup 
 of cold water to one of these little ones, shall 
 not lose his reward," and again, "Greater love 
 hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life 
 for his friend." 
 
 But someone may think I am preaching. Well, 
 if I am, I am preaching the gospel of service and 
 sacrifice, which to my mind is the greatest gospel 
 there is to preach at the present critical hour. I 
 am trying to tell men that they can be better men 
 wherever they are if they will it so. I have known 
 men to go over there from various walks of life, 
 some of them from wealthy homes and high sala- 
 ried positions to engage in this or that line of work, 
 perhaps relieving suffering without getting any- 
 thing for their labor, and yet boast that they had 
 received more than they had ever gotten in their 
 lives before, and it was true. They developed a 
 feeling of kinship for the suffering, and a satisfac- 
 tion in assuaging their pain which was a greater 
 compensation than anything they had ever had or 
 could ever have expected. I have known men 
 to go over in the very trenches themselves and 
 there learn the lesson of self-control and hu- 
 mility which is in reality learning to respect the 
 
The Heroism of the Wounded 121 
 
 rights of other people; men who formerly had 
 been accustomed to having their own way in 
 life. 
 
 Out there tonight there are wealthy land owners 
 standing knee deep in mud and water, side by side 
 with their own stable boys and treating them on an 
 absolute equality with themselves. It's a matter 
 of life and death out there, and after all when it 
 gets down to that very little else counts. A stable 
 boy's bullet from the enemy's lines will pick off 
 the wealthy magnate as quick as any other's, and 
 the rich man's usefulness is no greater than his 
 servant's, in the trenches. So they realize this 
 fact and act as though it were true. The only 
 place in all the world today where we have a real 
 Brotherhood of Man is in the Allies' trenches on 
 the Western front. Men display heroism there; 
 but they don't know it. Men are brave out there ; 
 but they don't think of it. It never enters a man's 
 head that he has been a hero, it's all duty, all just 
 natural; they couldn't do otherwise. As the 
 wounded Frenchman said about the worse 
 wounded Paul, *' I couldn't let that poor wounded 
 fellow bleed to death." There was duty. It had 
 to be done. " So I took my socks and pulled them 
 on his feet. What else could I do ? " 
 
(122 ''Back From Hell'' 
 
 After all, heroism and heroes are not always 
 shouted from the housetops and oftener they 
 pass by unmentloned. But Someone knows. 
 
CHAPTER XXI 
 
 THE TREACHEROUS "GERMAN SOUVENIR" 
 
 THE word " souvenir " means a remembrance. 
 The Huns have certainly left a number of 
 things which will be remembrances of them for a 
 long time to come. At one of the battles near 
 
 S: : after a successful charge In which the 
 
 French had succeeded in capturing the first and 
 second line German trenches, the boys found some 
 of these souvenirs. One of them, a lad of twenty- 
 two, picked up a fountain pen which had appar- 
 ently been dropped by some soldier In the hasty 
 retreat. The young poilu started to examine the 
 pen and In doing so unscrewed the cap from It. 
 Just as he had it about off, an awful explosion 
 occurred and the fellow's face was blown half off, 
 and his right hand was torn to pieces. We car- 
 ried him to the hospital where he was treated by 
 the surgeons but he hardly came to consciousness 
 and the next day died In horrible agony. 
 
 Two days later another Frenchman discovered 
 a watch hanging on a nail. It was a cheap thing 
 
 123 
 
124 ''^^^^ ^^om Heir 
 
 without any intrinsic value, but when he saw it he 
 thought it would be a nice little relic of the war 
 and reached up to take it down. It went off with 
 a boom and as a result he has no eyes. That will 
 be his remembrance of the savage Huns to his 
 dying day. He had been through many months of 
 war and seen much severe fighting, but the only 
 thing he will remember about the enemy is their 
 treachery. Sometimes in war even the vanquished 
 will praise the gallantry and the bravery of the 
 enemy and will acknowledge that the fight was a 
 fair one, but all the way through the present conflict 
 the evidence against the Germans has been more 
 damning and conclusive than has been brought to 
 light against the most savage peoples that ever 
 lived. Primitive Indians have done some fear- 
 fully horrible deeds in days gone by, but the In- 
 dian never had a fraction of the ingenious power 
 for deviltry that the followers of Attila possess. 
 A chair was fonnd in one of the dugouts and when 
 a soldier sat in it he was blown to atoms. There 
 was not enough left of his body to be recognizable 
 and the pieces were gathered together and buried 
 in a nameless grave. 
 
 One British Tommy started to move a shovel 
 which was found to be connected with wires lead- 
 
The Nigger's Nose 129 
 
 lips, a typical negro, only he spoke French instead 
 of English. This French negro had had his nose 
 shot entirely off. I had previously helped carry 
 him into the hospital and he was indeed a dreadful 
 sight to behold. A piece of shrapnel had got him 
 and he came very nearly *' going West." 
 
 But the doctors took him and labored with him 
 day after day, and week after week. They took a 
 piece of bone out of his side and some skin from 
 another place and by working, and grafting, and 
 rubbing, they finally brought out a new nose on 
 the fellow, and he used to boast in front of his 
 black pals that when they got back to Africa he 
 would have the edge on all of them with those 
 swarthy girls because his comrade's noses were 
 big and flat and he now had a better looking one 
 in place of his old flat one. 
 
 Many a little incident of a similar nature hap- 
 pens, both in the hospitals and on the field, and 
 the men even though badly " cut up " are not all 
 the time groaning; and the nurses even though 
 very sweet and gentle are not constantly weeping. 
 They'd soon be shipped back home If they were. 
 They go about their work and do it, just as a doc- 
 tor does at home. 
 
 A good many cases of mutilation were found 
 
130 ''Back From Hell'' 
 
 which were just as bad as that of the negro, and 
 which in the beginning seemed just as hopeless. 
 We carried in one British Tommy who had his 
 entire lower jaw blown off. He presented a fear- 
 ful spectacle. He was put to bed and very care- 
 fully prepared and treated to get his body into 
 proper shape for the operation. This required 
 some days. Then those confident surgeons started 
 in on him. Day by day they built a jaw for him, 
 taking a piece from here and another from there 
 and by skillfully massaging and rubbing they by 
 and by, got him fixed up, and then the most skilled 
 dentists in the world took him in hand and put in 
 teeth for him so that today you cannot discern 
 that he was ever badly mutilated. All you can see 
 IS a little mark from the left corner of his mouth 
 and a very small scar from the right corner. He 
 lisps just a little also, as his tongue was partly 
 shot away. 
 
 In cases where the limbs are fractured, or where 
 certain positions must be maintained while the 
 patient is lying In bed, a clever device has been 
 arranged. 
 
 A frame which holds up the several parts of 
 the body Is attached to the bed, or is a part of 
 the bed, and In this frame are many pulleys with 
 
The Nigger^s Nose 13 II 
 
 ropes and weights attached. When the wounded 
 soldier who is all *' broken up " is laid in this bed, 
 his arm is laid in a form, and the form is lifted 
 to the proper position and held there by the weight 
 over the pulley. Some positions are necessary for 
 rapid healing; some are necessary for comfort or 
 for avoiding intense pain. By this arrangement, 
 invented by Dr. Alexis Carrel, any portion of the 
 body can be lifted to any height or angle and kept 
 there as long as necessary. It is a very ingenious 
 apparatus, at the same time simple and of inesti- 
 mable value. 
 
CHAPTER XXIII 
 
 GETTING BY THE CONSULS 
 
 FROM the very beginning I had had an over- 
 whelming desire to go to Belgium. Some- 
 how that country has gripped the imagination of 
 the world and mine as well. Neither did I think 
 of any of the drawbacks, but simply said, "I'm 
 going to Belgium for relief work.'* I had not 
 been successful in being assigned to any unit 
 before I left the States, so I started for France 
 en route for Belgium on my own initiative. Mr. 
 Bryan gave me a passport, but when I arrived in 
 France Ambassador Sharp urged me to remain 
 and serve there, as he thought it would be ex- 
 tremely difficult to get Into Belgium when men 
 were needed in France, and while I did as he ad- 
 vised, I never gave up the idea of going to Bel- 
 gium. I had seen enough of German Kultur to 
 whet my appetite and change my peaceful views, 
 but now I wanted to get the evidence from the 
 Huns themselves in the country which they were 
 governing. Consequently it was this, which at 
 
 132 
 
Getting By the Consuls 133 
 
 the time impelled me to ask for a leave of absence 
 and to apply for a pass out of France. I wanted 
 to go to Belgium, but now for a different purpose 
 than formerly. 
 
 I got a ten days* leave, but the only possible 
 way of going was by way of England, thence to 
 Holland, and from there over the Belgium border. 
 I had my troubles. Of course I kept pretty mum 
 as to where I intended to go. I went to the Ameri- 
 can Consul and got my passport vise^ that is, 
 stamped or O. K.'d. I then had to go to the 
 French Consul and ask him to vise my passport. 
 Inasmuch as I was going to England, which was 
 an allied country, it was not very difficult to per- 
 suade the French Consul to let me go. I then 
 had to go to the English Consul and get his con- 
 sent to enter England. He did not seem very 
 formidable and I finally got past him also. My 
 reason for going to England I told him, was " en 
 route to Holland." You have to have a reason 
 for doing everything. But since England was not 
 my destination, but only "en route," my reason 
 did not need to be very definite and was accepted. 
 
 When I got to Dieppe, a British soldier or 
 young officer I believe he was, who had had sev- 
 eral "Bass' Ales," took me under his wing and 
 
134 ''Back From Hell'' 
 
 undertook to see me through. He told the cus- 
 toms man that I was one of their boys from the 
 front and all right, as I was going home to 
 Blighty. Consequently I had little difficulty there. 
 I was still wearing my ambulance uniform, which 
 much resembled theirs, although I had a civilian 
 suit in my grip. I wore the uniform so as to get 
 the benefit of the special rate on the railroad, 
 namely, one-fourth fare. As I sat down to have 
 a chat with this Englishman he was so good to me 
 that I got quite confidential. We had been talk- 
 ing about the brutalities of the Germans In Bel- 
 gium. I said, ** I'm on my way to Belgium now, 
 Fm going around behind the German lines to see 
 the Huns as they are.'' " You don't say so I" said 
 he. *' Yes," I said, " I'm going over to Belgium to 
 see with my own eyes the picture of devastation." 
 He didn't take It well. He got a little excited and 
 said, " Well you better not. In fact I'll see to It 
 that you don't go over to the German lines. I'll 
 have you know that we're not funnin' in this busi- 
 ness." I saw that I had got In bad. I always did 
 have trouble in that way. I couldn't keep my 
 mouth shut, and whenever I opened It I put my 
 foot In it. I began to back up. I don't remem- 
 ber just what I said, but I suddenly became very 
 
A HURRY CALL. "CLLAR THE TRACK. 
 
 'JUMBO," THE BIGGEST AMBULANCE ON THE 
 
 WESTERN FRONT. 
 
 The author is the second man on the left. 
 
Getting By the Consuls 135 
 
 conciliatory and gave him to understand that I'd 
 far rather take his judgment on the matter, and if 
 he thought I had better not go, why, of course, I 
 wouldn't do it I think he almost forgot it after a 
 bit, but to make sure I opened up my grip and took 
 out half a pound of smoking tobacco which I had 
 drawn gratis at the Ambulance, contributed by his 
 own countrymen, the Overseas Club, and with all 
 the ceremonies, presented it to him. 
 
 That tobacco (added to the ale) caused him to 
 completely forget my purpose, and as the boat 
 whistled off from the dock, he waved me a merry 
 "Best 'o Luck." 
 
 But I thought many a time how close I came 
 to being balked, by my tongue. A word from him 
 to headquarters would have cooked the whole 
 game. 
 
 On the water the night was very stormy. I 
 guess all nights are on the English channel, but 
 this one was particularly so. It rained all the way. 
 It was a four-hour trip, and while I am an excel- 
 lent sailor and had never been sick in crossing the 
 ocean, I was fearfully sick that night. The next 
 day I was in London. 
 
 What was the procedure ? I was told by some- 
 body, that wherever I was going I would surely 
 
136 ''Back From Hell" 
 
 be held three days in England. I went to the 
 American Consul. I wanted my passport vise 
 for Holland. My reasons? Well, I couldn't say 
 "en route" anymore because they don't approve 
 of people going through Holland to the enemy. 
 Going to Holland, what for? Why, naturally, to 
 see my old friend and professor. Doctor Henry 
 Van Dyke, American Minister there. Of course 
 the doctor didn't know I was coming, and wouldn't 
 have remembered me anyway. But nevertheless 
 I had conceived a sudden and irresistible desire to 
 visit him. 
 
 A young fellow by the name of Ripley Wilson, 
 about my own age, was vice-consul. He waited 
 on me, but he did not seem satisfied with my expla- 
 nations, or my reasons for wanting to go to Hol- 
 land. He talked and argued and hemmed and 
 hawed, and finally said, "What is your real object 
 in going to Holland, Mr. Benson?" I answered, 
 " I have told you that I am going over to visit my 
 old professor. Doctor Van Dyke." Then he tried 
 to trap me. He said, " Oh, did you go to Har- 
 vard?" I said, "No, sir." He said, "Then 
 where did you know him?" I said, "Dr. Van 
 Dyke never taught in Harvard. I knew him at 
 Princeton, naturally, the place where he taught." 
 
Getting By the Consuls 137 
 
 This kind of floored him, but still he persisted. 
 *' But, Mr. Benson, what would anybody say about 
 such a reason as you give, * going to Holland to 
 visit a friend in war time ? ' " 
 
 I saw the situation. Ripley Wilson just needed 
 a little domineering, and for the first time in my 
 life I was a little saucy to a diplomatic officer. I 
 said, " Mr. Wilson, I have told you what I am 
 going to Holland for, and furthermore what 
 would anybody say about you asking me so many 
 petty questions? Wouldn^t they say it was none 
 of your business?" It worked. 
 
 In a few minutes I had his signature and stamp 
 on my passport, and we bade each other a good- 
 natured good-bye. Then I had to go to the Brit- 
 ish foreign office to get their permission to leave, 
 and that was not so easy. The young fellow who 
 first handled the case asked me a lot of similar 
 questions and I answered them in the same way. 
 Then he asked me if I was going to try to go to 
 Belgium when I got to Holland. " Why, I hadn't 
 thought of it," I replied. All the time with a 
 straight face. After a while he went into another 
 room and presently returned and asked me to 
 come back at four o'clock, as I had better have a 
 personal talk with the colonel. 
 
138 "Back From Heir 
 
 I went up to Trafalgar Square and saw the mili- 
 tary demonstrations and then went up the Strand 
 and looked about a bit, and at four o'clock went 
 back to Whitehall. I was ushered Into the pres- 
 ence of the colonel. He was in all his glory. 
 Trappings of every kind adorned his person, 
 shoulder straps and all. But surprising as it was 
 to me, he was not at all officious and I had a very 
 pleasant hour with him. At first he was a little 
 curious. He wanted to know my reasons for going 
 to Holland and so forth, but after a little he be- 
 came very cordial and said, they simply wanted 
 to be careful, as people going to Holland were get- 
 ting very near the enemy and might tell something 
 even unwittingly which would hurt the cause. He 
 then said he would get me a special permit to go 
 that night on a certain boat on the Zelande Line at 
 eight o'clock. He called Mr. Haldane-Porter 
 on the telephone and told him he was sending me 
 over, and also gave me a letter to him requesting 
 him to give me his special pass. I later figured out 
 that it wasn't any special honor at all that he was 
 favoring me with, but that his words and actions 
 meant I was to go at the hour he said and on the 
 boat he Indicated and have every movement I 
 made thoroughly known to Scotland Yard. 
 
Getting By the Consuls 139 
 
 Nevertheless I felt fortunate and glad. Then 
 I had to go to the Dutch Consul in London and 
 get his permit to enter his country. He was neu- 
 tral and didn't give a rap where I went, so I didn't 
 have to spend much time on him, but only ninety 
 cents. My khaki uniform I checked at the North 
 London Railway. I didn't care to have any khaki 
 about me when I went to Germany. They don't 
 like it over there. I stuck the check in a safe 
 hiding place in the back of a book of cigarette 
 papers which a pollu had given me as a souvenir. 
 Then I caught my boat and sailed for Holland. 
 On the boat I noticed a sign saying that no letters 
 were to be carried across, on pain of summary 
 justice. It scared me, as I had several letters that 
 I did not want to part with. Two were addressed 
 to Brand Whitlock, the American Minister in 
 Brussels, and one to a woman who is the mother 
 of one of my ecclesiastical flock In America. 
 Nevertheless, I kept them. 
 
 When I got to Holland I went straight to The 
 Hague. The first thing I did was to have two 
 photographs taken, one with my arm band on my 
 sleeve, and the other without it. Doctor Van 
 Dyke I found in his office, and his son also, who 
 remembered me in college. However, the doctor 
 
I40 ''Back From Hell'' 
 
 said that he had serious doubts whether I could 
 get Into Belgium. He recently had received word 
 from Mr. Whitlock to be very careful about let- 
 ting people come over from Holland, as there was 
 not much for them to do and they often made a lot 
 of trouble. 
 
 The Doctor suggested that I write Mr. Whit- 
 lock and ask him If he had something for me to do 
 in the relief work. Well, as a matter of fact, I 
 did not want to do this. There were two reasons. 
 One was that I knew It would take a week to get a 
 reply, and I did not want to wait. The other was 
 I was afraid he might say no, thus effectually block- 
 ing my plans and hopes. I wanted to get to Bel- 
 gium above all things. At last. Dr. Van Dyke said 
 he did not feel he should be the one to vise my pass- 
 port, but I had better go down and have a talk 
 with Colonel LIstoe at Rotterdam. He was the 
 real official who should do it, being the closest to 
 the border, but the Doctor was doubtful If he 
 would do it. I gathered from the conversation 
 that he and the Colonel were very Intimate friends. 
 I then went to a hotel, VAmericatn, on the 
 Wagonstraat and went to bed to sleep over it. 
 The next morning a happy thought struck me. I 
 said to myself, " I'll try some diplomacy on these 
 
Getting By the Consuls 1411 
 
 diplomats." Again I went over to Dr. Van Dyke's 
 office, and said, " Doctor, I haven't much identifi- 
 cation, and I wonder if you would be willing to 
 give me a note saying that I am the person I pur- 
 port to be, and an American citizen. He said, 
 " Why certainly," and wrote me such a note on the 
 official stationery. I put the note Into my pocket, 
 gleefully. I forgot to tell him that I had come 
 all the way from France and England to have a 
 visit with him, but nevertheless I had had It. I 
 now thanked him and bade him good-bye. I 
 hastened by electric to Rotterdam, and hunted up 
 the American Consulate. I knocked on the floor 
 and asked, *'Is Colonel Listoe In?" "Yes, the 
 name, please?" "Mr. Benson." A man rose and 
 stepped cordially forward to greet me. I said, 
 " Colonel Listoe, I believe, I just came down from 
 my old friend. Doctor Van Dyke ; I was under him 
 at college, and his son was In my class. I have 
 a letter from him here and I am going over to 
 Belgium." 
 
 " Oh, oh. Dr. Van Dyke ; well, well, to be sure ! " 
 He took my passport and had the vice-consul vise 
 it before ever he looked at the note. Then while 
 I was getting out the letter I explained that It 
 was just a formal note of Identification; but my 
 
142 ''Back From Hell'' 
 
 passport was already fixed and everything was 
 fine. 
 
 I chatted with him for an hour, smoked one of 
 his fine black cigars and, of course, found him a 
 delightful man. Then I said, " Colonel, is there 
 anything else I need to do before I can go to Bel- 
 gium?" "Oh, by George I" he said, slapping 
 himself upon the knee, " I almost forgot the most 
 important part. Sure, you must go over to the 
 German Consuls and get their consent, and go be- 
 fore four o'clock." Ah! there was the rub. I 
 knew it. But I went. And I had some whale of 
 a time getting their consent, too. When I went 
 into the room there were six of them sitting behind 
 the table. I went up to the first one and told him 
 I wanted to go to Belgium. I was now in my civil- 
 ian clothes and I had put the set of photographs 
 with the Red Cross arm band on, in my left 
 pocket and the set without the arm band in my 
 right pocket. The man asked me, " What do you 
 want to go to Belgium for?" I replied: "Re- 
 lief work." "What kind?" "Red Cross." "Are 
 you a Red Cross man?" "Yes, sir." " Have 
 you a commission?" "N-n-no." "How do you 
 prove you are a Red Cross man?" I began fum- 
 bling for my photographs. For the life of me I 
 
Getting By the Consuls 143 
 
 couldn't tell which kind were in which pocket. I 
 reached and shuffled, and turned red, and pulled 
 out — the wrong one I Well, it didn't make much 
 difference. I said, " That's just a civilian picture for 
 putting on my passports, but here is my Red Cross 
 picture." Then I pulled the other on him. He 
 seemed satisfied. That Red Cross on the sleeve 
 seemed to do the business. He said "You will 
 offer yourself to the Red Cross in Belgium ? " I 
 said, "Yes, sir." When he was about finished, 
 another consul passing by became curious. He 
 said, "What Is it this man wants?" And about 
 the time I had satisfied him, still another came. 
 And if you don't think it is some job to convince 
 six Germans to be of the same mind at the same 
 moment, try it sometime. The man finally said, " I 
 shall write it on your passport that you will offer 
 yourself to the Red Cross in Belgium?" I 
 knew that he meant business, and if It was written 
 on there it meant for me to do it, but I was ready 
 to do anything. I wanted to get into Belgium. I 
 had been five days making the trip up to the doors 
 of Belgium, a trip that would take ten hours 
 ordinarily, and I did not want to be balked. I 
 said, "Yes, sir, you may write it on my passport." 
 He did it, too. He then said, "Eight marks!" 
 
144 ''Back From Hell'' 
 
 and I fished out two dollars. That passport is one 
 of my valued souvenirs today. I was now getting 
 poor, as every consul had been bleeding me both 
 to leave and to enter his countjry. The Americans 
 were the only ones whose stamp was free. My 
 pass was given me to Brussels and the next morn- 
 ing I embarked. When we crossed the border 
 a mile or two in, the train stopped at Esschen. 
 Most of the cars were locked and the passengers, 
 a few at a time, were taken out and searched. I 
 was among them, and it was not a pleasant sensa- 
 tion. But I was in Belgium, had come from the 
 enemy and had literally bluffed my way through. 
 
CHAPTER XXIV 
 
 A CLOSE SHAVE 
 
 ON MY way to Brussels I had to pass through 
 Antwerp. My pass allowed me to go to 
 Brussels — and nowhere else. But as the train 
 stopped at six o'clock in the evening at Antwerp, 
 and I learned that it would be there about three 
 hours, I got off and asked the Germans who 
 guarded the gate if I might stay in Antwerp over 
 night. They told me that I had plenty of time 
 and I might go down to the Kommandantur of 
 the city and make my request. I did so. 
 
 " Herr Kommandantur'* was a big, bull-necked, 
 red-faced fellow who responded to my request 
 with the grunted word, JVarum? When I ex- 
 plained why I wanted to stay he asked me sev- 
 eral qi^stions about myself and wrote down the 
 charges ^Igainst me, and finally said If I would 
 give him a quarter I could stay overnight — no, 
 that was not exactly the way he said it, either. He 
 did not speak English anyway, but after writing 
 down all these answers, he said in a harsh, guttural 
 
 145 
 
146 ''Back From Heir 
 
 tone, Eine Mark! I took the hint, and it didn't 
 take long for me to produce the quarter. He 
 then handed me the paper, which said that I was 
 permitted to leave Antwerp and go to Brussels 
 the following day. That was all I wanted. I 
 wanted to see Antwerp — but I also wanted to go 
 on, when I got ready. I had to have that paper 
 then, permitting me to go on the morrow, or else 
 I'd " find out the meaning of German authority I " 
 The next morning I took a walk to have a look 
 about. I had already, on the previous day, as I 
 came into Antwerp, witnessed many towns lying 
 in ruins, the remains of which I could see from the 
 car window. But when I went out Into the town 
 of Antwerp, I learned just what the German could 
 do In the way of vandalism and ruthlessness. I 
 saw the forts which they had bombarded for three 
 days, on the third day of which they had tossed 
 over those forty-two centimeter shells at the rate 
 of one every five seconds all day and all night. 
 The destruction was terrific. I came back to the 
 center of the city and went Into a little cafe to 
 get some lunch. The woman who kept the place 
 showed me two big pieces of Iron and steel, chunks 
 which must have weighed ten to fifteen pounds 
 apiece, which she had found in her bed after the 
 
A Close Shave 147 
 
 bombardment ceased, and she tpld me with tears 
 in her eyes that later, after the capture of the 
 town, the German officers outraged her daughter. 
 
 Fortunately, the woman had not been sleeping 
 at home at the time, but had been over with her 
 sister, otherwise she would not have shown any- 
 body those iron relics. It was a close shave. This 
 woman was very kind to me, and the only reason 
 I do not mention her name, and many other 
 names of Belgian people, who were courteous and 
 helpful to me, is that some pro-German would 
 very likely report them and have them harassed by 
 the military governors there. 
 
 These governors are most thorough in their 
 policy of persecution and inquisition, the same as 
 in their scientific research, and I often hold my- 
 self back from telling names of Belgian people 
 who were hospitable to me, for their own safety. 
 When the war is over I shall write them all and 
 try to demonstrate my deep appreciation. They 
 bore up so nobly when their kinfolk were killed, 
 their homes destroyed, and their country de- 
 vastated. As soon as I got to Brussels I called on 
 the American minister. 
 
CHAPTER XXV 
 
 MEETING BRAND WHITLOCK 
 
 A DIPLOMATIC officer is a peculiar indi- 
 vidual. I wish I were one — sometimes. I 
 wouldn't have liked to be Brand Whitlock, how- 
 ever, when this war broke out. He had been liv- 
 ing a quiet, peaceful existence in that wonderful 
 city of Brussels, no doubt having a good time in 
 general, when suddenly and without warning the 
 country was invaded by hordes of hostile Ger- 
 mans, who bombarded the cities, burned the ham- 
 lets, and slaughtered the people in large numbers, 
 driving others by thousands from their homes and 
 out of their country. Then the conqueror began 
 oppressing the captive people, and Brand Whit- 
 lock had to act as intermediary. Besides this, he 
 had to defend himself from those other hordes 
 from the outside; I mean the Americans who 
 bombarded him with offers to come over and help 
 care for the poor, starving Belgians. I was one 
 of them. Their motives were excellent, but their 
 judgment was questionable, and it never seemed 
 
 148 
 
Meeting Brand PF hit lock 149 
 
 to enter their heads that if thousands of them went 
 over to care for the starving Belgians, it would 
 take a large amount of food to keep them, before 
 ever the Belgians got any. Furthermore, the 
 Germans did not like Americans in the country, 
 seeing what they had done to Belgium. It wasn't 
 pleasant to have them around. They arrested 
 them and harassed them and caused a lot of 
 trouble. No wonder Mr. Whitlock wrote to Dr. 
 Van Dyke asking him to be very careful about 
 sending Americans over. But I am a persistent 
 person. 
 
 When I got to Brussels I went to call on this 
 same minister. I did possess two personal let- 
 ters addressed to him from American Congress- 
 men who were good friends of Mr. Whitlock. 
 And I felt it would be a shame not to deliver them. 
 
 But the young lady who received the visitors 
 asked me what I wanted to see him about. I 
 replied, "On business." She said, "He is very 
 busy." I asked, " Is he too busy to attend to busi- 
 ness?" "Well," she answered, "I don't believe 
 he could see you." 
 
 I responded, "Say, my young lady, I am an 
 American citizen, a stranger in a strange land. I 
 am among a people who are not particularly 
 
I50 ''Back From Hell'' 
 
 friendly, as I have already learned. They are 
 the bosses over here. I am expecting to be about 
 in this country somewhat, and I feel I have a 
 right to be known by the American Minister. If 
 anything happens to me, I ^ant him to be able to 
 Identify me. Our diplomatic officers are sent 
 here by the United States, paid by the people, to 
 look after our interests, and our traveling citizens, 
 and then when we come here the secretary says he 
 cannot see us. Why is it ? " 
 
 This evidently made some impression, for she 
 said finally, "Well, If you will come back In the 
 afternoon, I suppose you can see him." 
 
 I went away then, saying, " I certainly expect to 
 see him." In the afternoon I did. I found Mr. 
 Whitlock the most genial man In the world. He 
 had plenty of time to be civil and obliging and to 
 chat a while, although I did not abuse the privi- 
 lege. I told him I wanted him to know me, and I 
 delivered the letters. As I left he stamped my 
 passport and said, " Come in again when you can, 
 Mr. Benson." I had occasion to do so — before 
 long. 
 
o 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI 
 
 MY MAPS OF BELCrUM 
 
 N LEAVING Mr. Whitlock I went down 
 town and engaged a room at a little private 
 hotel for the duration of my stay in Brussels. One 
 day shortly afterwards, while I was sitting in a 
 cafe of the little hotel, a neighbor of the proprietor 
 came in and I was introduced to him. He was 
 a very likable fellow, and we had a half hour's 
 pleasant chat, at least it was pleasant for me. I 
 am not so sure it was as pleasant for him, for I 
 was certainly an artist at butchering up the King's 
 French. 
 
 As he arose to go out he bid me au revoir 
 and stopped for a moment to speak confidentially 
 to the madame who ran the place. After he had 
 departed she told me that the man was a regular 
 customer of theirs who lived down the street, and 
 that he was a printer by trade. His particular line 
 of printing was that of map making, and he had 
 told the landlady that he would like to make me 
 a present of some nice maps of Belgium if I 
 
 151 
 
152 ''Back From Heir 
 
 would accept them. He wanted to show his ap- 
 preciation for the assistance of America. I said, 
 *' That would be very fine and I would certainly 
 be glad to have them, both for their instructive 
 value as well as a memento of the giver." 
 
 Accordingly, the next day the man came over 
 with his maps in his hand and gave them to me. 
 They were not large and could be conveniently 
 folded and put into the pocket, but they were un- 
 usually complete and really very excellent guides 
 to the country. I took them and thanked him, 
 looking them over admiringly and putting them 
 into my inside pocket. 
 
 Thereafter when I talked with the Belgian peo- 
 ple about the geography of the country, I fre- 
 quently consulted my map in order to fasten in 
 mind the location of the different towns. My own 
 study of geography in my earlier days had been 
 sadly neglected or forgotten, so I found these 
 very useful gifts. It was quite natural that peo- 
 ple, in talking with me about the brutality of the 
 Germans, should mention towns where the most 
 glaring atrocities had been perpetrated. I had 
 also read the Bryce report and the names of cer- 
 tain towns stood out distinctly in my memory. 
 These places I marked with a cross on the map, 
 
My Maps of Belgium '153 
 
 so as to be sure to visit them, and later, when I 
 visited other destroyed villages or cities, I marked 
 them also, so that later in life I might glance over 
 the maps and easily recall the experiences in each 
 of the places. I thought I had a very nice memento 
 which would always call up vivid recollections. 
 Certain places had been already specially marked 
 in the making of the map by having circles of 
 stars around the town which I did not exactly un- 
 derstand, but supposing they were important 
 cities or capitals of provinces, I was particular to 
 put a cross there as a place which I ought to visit, 
 which I did In most cases. In fact, before I had 
 completed my tour of the country I had the maps 
 pretty well crossed up, especially In the more Im- 
 portant centers throughout the ruined districts. 
 
 One striking thing In scanning the maps was 
 that I had not marked a single place which was 
 not In the devastated area, plainly Indicating that 
 I had made a careful point of traveling only 
 through the parts which the Germans had de- 
 stroyed and going only to the worst desolated 
 places at that. In other words, by a glance at my 
 map you could follow my itinerary practically as 
 easily as you can follow a rabbit In the snow by 
 his tracks. > ' 
 
154 ''Back From Heir' 
 
 Many a time I contemplated looking back with 
 pleasure and explaining to my American friends 
 in years to come and to my grandchildren, when 
 my hair should be gray, how I had bluffed my 
 way through the German lines and observed the 
 country and the German rule while he was still in 
 possession. It would be a thing of which few 
 men could boast, since it was against the military 
 policy of every country to allow anybody to come 
 from the enemy and go through their land and 
 then go back to the enemy again. That was 
 unheard of. Yet inwardly it was my intention, 
 and, in fact, I had no other idea than that I 
 should accomplish it successfully. Consequently 
 I wrote down nothing. I mean I kept no diary on 
 paper and I wrote no letters. I had many friends 
 in France who would have liked to have a word 
 from me, and also my folks in America expected 
 me to write them letters for news and for sou- 
 venirs, but I was afraid to attempt to send any 
 word to them, even indirectly through Holland, 
 as I feared the Germans would open all mail, and 
 finding me in touch with France, would decide that 
 I intended returning there and then would see to 
 it that I did not. Everything that I saw and heard 
 in Belgium, all the information I received, was 
 
My Maps of Belgium 155 
 
 in my head and not on paper, as I felt that would 
 save me much troubk; so I merely marked the 
 maps with little crosses. 
 
CHAPTER XXVII 
 
 THE *' CAT AND MOUSE " GAME 
 
 AT LENGTH I went to the German Pass of- 
 fice in Brussels. It was called the *' Pass- 
 ZentraUy up in the Rue Royale, only a block from 
 ,the King's palace. I there applied for a pass to 
 Liege. I was told by the sentry to come back in 
 the afternoon, at three o'clock. The office is only 
 open from nine till twelve and from three to six. 
 I went back at three. A young " smart aleck" of 
 the name of Klenkum took my American passport 
 from me and told me to come back the next morn- 
 ing between ten and eleven, giving me, as he spoke, 
 a slip of paper which read, Zwischen zehn und 
 elf, I went back next day and handed Klenkum 
 the slip of paper, which he saucily laid on the 
 other side of the desk and wrote another, telling 
 me to come back in two days, or Sunday between 
 ten and eleven. I was angry. He saw it, and said, 
 "Prisoner, eh?" I did not answer. And so as 
 I opened the door he rubbed it in, saying, Sehr 
 gut, ehf With a sickly smile on my face, I re- 
 
 156 
 
The " Cat and Mouse'* Game Ig7 
 
 plied, "Yes, very good," and went out. But I 
 was simply boiling. I went to the office of Von 
 Bissing and had quite a talk with him, but nothing 
 came of it. I then went up to Mr. Whitlock and 
 told him what they were doing with me. I said 
 the Germans were keeping my American pass- 
 port, which was a breach of international law, and 
 playing a kind of "cat and mouse" game with 
 me. Immediately he wrote a letter curtly de- 
 manding my passport and ordering them to give 
 me a pass where I wanted to go. I took this let- 
 ter up and delivered it at headquarters. Well, 
 they ignored the letter entirely, and the pass was 
 given me at the last moment Klenkum had indi- 
 cated, namely, eleven o'clock on Sunday. But 
 Klenkum was not the particular man who handed 
 It to me. He sent me into another room to a 
 higher officer. My pass was handed me by an im- 
 portant personage. 
 
 I was then given some instructions by no less a 
 person than Von Bissing himself. But I had kept 
 the road hot in front of the King's palace, between 
 Mr. Whitlock's office, corner Rue de Treves and 
 Rue Belliard, and the German Pass-Zentrah 
 in the Rue Royale. This heckling, harassing 
 policy of duplicity was the one which the Ger- 
 
ijS ''Back From Heir' 
 
 man Government constantly employed, and when 
 one reflects a moment and makes comparisons, 
 he finds that it is the same policy which they have 
 used in their diplomatic notes and business with 
 the United States ever since the war began. It is 
 almost impossible to pin them down to anything, 
 and have any guarantee that they will keep their 
 word. 
 
 As Viellaur, the officer in charge, finally 
 handed me the passports, I jokingly said to him, 
 " There's a good deal of red tape about getting a 
 pass from the German Government, isn't there ? " 
 
 " Well," he said, " of course we think you peo- 
 ple are friendly to us, otherwise you wouldn't be 
 able to get a pass at all. We conclude," he con- 
 tinued, *'that you are friends, from what we see 
 in the newspapers." I replied, "Well, that's 
 about all a person has to go by, just what he sees 
 in the newspapers." I left him to draw his own 
 conclusions, while I caught the train. 
 
CHAPTER XXVIII 
 
 SHADOWED AT LIEGE 
 
 AT LIEGE I felt the German espionage sys- 
 tem. This city became world famous in a 
 week's time when the Hun was pounding at the 
 gates. It was the first the world knew of the war. 
 The place was fearfully " strafed." It was Sunday 
 afternoon when I arrived. Before I could get off 
 the train, or rather out of the depot, I had to let 
 the German soldiers search me, and they went 
 through my clothes with a marvelous thorough- 
 ness. When I went to a hotel and was eating my 
 supper I found there two Germans in the dining 
 room, one of whom was a soldier and one a rail- 
 road conductor, talking together. I will not men- 
 tion the name of the conductor because if this was 
 reported of him it might mean his execution. 
 After a few minutes the soldier went away. 
 
 I went on with my supper but before I h'ad fin- 
 ished a violent pounding sounded on the door. 
 The proprietor, a Belgian, started to answer it, 
 while his wife peeped out and saw that two burly 
 
 159 
 
i6o ''Back From Hell'' 
 
 German officers were there. She became excited 
 and rushed back, seized my grip, turned out the 
 light In the dining room, and bundled me off up- 
 stairs with my heart pounding like a steam engine. 
 
 I did not know what was up. 
 
 Now, either the German Secret Service had 
 shadowed me all the way from Brussels, or per- 
 haps every step of the way since I entered the coun- 
 try, or else that soldier had gone out and reported 
 me. Those officers demanded of the proprietor If 
 there was an American In his house and If so what 
 he was doing there. I don't know what answer he 
 gave them, but after a while they went away. 
 
 I then had the most enlightening and frank 
 talk with that civilian German conductor that I 
 have ever had with a German since this war be- 
 gan. The Belgian hotel proprietor had known 
 him for several months as a guest, and told me 
 that I could trust the man. 
 
 In the conversation the German said, "War Is 
 a terrible thing. It Is no good for common men 
 like me.'' 
 
 "Whynot?"IaskedhIm. 
 
 "Why," said he, "I have a wife and two chil- 
 dren at home, and If I go out and get killed what 
 becomes of them ? " 
 
Shadowed at Liege i6i 
 
 I said, "Won't the Kaiser take care of them?" 
 
 "Humph," he grunted, Der Kaiser! And he 
 put his fingers in his ears to indicate that the 
 Kaiser would be deaf to their appeals. He con- 
 tinued, Der Krieg ist gut fiir die oberen Zehn- 
 Tausend, ja, jaf aber es ist nicht gut fiir diejenigen 
 welche kdmpfen. "War is good for the upper 
 ten thousand, yes, yes I but it is no good for the 
 ones who do the fighting." I said, " You wouldn't 
 dare to say these things when that soldier was 
 here, or in front of military men, would you?" 
 
 Nein, naturlich nicht. Aber sie sind ein guter 
 Kamerad "No, naturally not. But you are a 
 good comrade." 
 
 This little talk in which he said that kings and 
 kaisers all ought to be dethroned, gave me an 
 idea that there must be multitudes of men who feel 
 the same, but because their souls are not their own, 
 dare not give voice to it. I told the man that 
 Americans could not understand how the Germans 
 could enter the country and do the frightful things 
 that they have done to the unoffending Belgians. 
 I said we had thousands of kind and peaceable 
 Germans in America, and many of them were 
 among our best citizens. " Ah," said he, " it is the 
 discipline. These German soldiers were once 
 
1 62 ''Back From Hell'' 
 
 peaceable and kind citizens also, having families 
 like myself, but the discipline of the army has 
 made them warlike and unmerciful. After one 
 year in the Kaiser's army they still have some 
 heart left, after two years less, after three or four 
 years of that discipline they have no heart at all." 
 
 Another German, a soldier, then came in and 
 my German friend shut up like a clam. So did I. 
 
 I went out next morning and saw the ashes and 
 ruins into which the Germans had plunged the 
 city and I had a talk with one Belgian man who 
 had been made an atheist by the crushing experi- 
 ence. As I spoke with him, hearing his terrible 
 tale, and seeing from his shop window dozens of 
 homes which were burned down, and beautiful 
 buildings deliberately desecrated, my faith in God 
 did not diminish, but my confidence in my own 
 former pacifism did, and I felt a growing faith in 
 militancy when dealing with the German who re- 
 spects nothing on earth but force. I was day by 
 day realizing that he must be dealt with on his own 
 grounds and with his own weapons. It was hard 
 for me to come to this position but the cold and 
 cruel facts were forcing it upon me. 
 
CHAPTER XXIX 
 
 RESULTS OF '' FRIGHTFULNESS " 
 
 WHEN Viellaur had given me my passport to 
 Liege he had told me orally to come back 
 by the same route I went. But it did not say 
 so in the paper itself, and I ignored his instructions. 
 I took an extended trip south in Belgium and I 
 learned on this instructive but sad journey, just how 
 the Germans hound the Belgian people and make 
 life miserable for them. If the Belgians show any 
 resentment whatever, they are arrested as sedi- 
 tious persons and usually deported to Germany 
 to work in the fields or ammunition factories. I 
 saw many instances where German officers or sol- 
 diers entered the homes of people and commanded 
 the owners to stand back while they searched the 
 place, and if mayhap, they found a letter from 
 some friend in the house which had any complaints 
 or any sentiment against the German invasion, 
 the people were arrested and their existence made 
 even more unhappy. 
 
 On this tour I also experienced something of the 
 163 
 
i64 ''Back From Heir' 
 
 hard conditions from scarcity of food, and in the 
 home of Madame Beauvoit, in southern Belgium, 
 the mother of one of my parishioners in the States, 
 I ate black bread the like of which I have never 
 eaten before. I delivered a note to her from her 
 daughter and stayed at her house overnight, but I 
 could stay no longer as I was conscious that I was 
 eating up her living. She told me at supper that 
 they were only allowed ten ounces per day of that 
 bread, bad as it was. I could hardly push the next 
 swallow down my throat, for I was eating the life 
 of that woman. I also observed the marvelous 
 working of Mr. Hoover's food commission under 
 the management of Mr. Whitlock and Hugh Gib- 
 son, and it was a wonderful organization and 
 certainly an inspiring sight. 
 
 But during those days I looked upon scenes and 
 witnessed spectacles which break the heart, and I 
 had opportunities of talking with Belgian people 
 in their homes, where I stayed for meals, or in 
 which I slept, and they told me heart-rending tales 
 of the experiences they had gone through. 
 
 For hours sometimes I would talk with them, 
 and the information which I thus obtained was 
 most enlightening. They often handed mc their 
 cards also, sometimes requesting me to learn if pos- 
 
Results of ''Frightfulness''' 165 
 
 sible the whereabouts of their relatives, for thou- 
 sands of them had fled, and been scattered afar. 
 This journey gave me an insight into the motives of 
 the German military men. One day I stopped at 
 the little town of Dinant. There I saw a place of 
 devastation so complete that even the ruins of 
 volcano-destroyed Pompeii, could not compare 
 with it. An aged man who was walking by, 
 stopped and began to talk to me. I felt so sad on 
 seeing the awful picture that I could hardly talk. 
 In fact, as I stepped off the train I had burst into 
 sobs. My ears, however, were alert and I greed- 
 ily drank in his awful tale. The man pointed out 
 a wall of solid rock which was riddled with bullet 
 holes. I stuck my finger into one of these holes 
 and worked out a piece of stone, covered with 
 blood from some poor man's heart. I still have it. 
 He explained that more than one hundred Inno- 
 cent Belgians had been lined up against that wall 
 and shot to death for no offense whatever. He 
 also said that In some places where the Belgian 
 people resented the invasion of their homes they 
 were dragged out and lined up, and every third 
 man was shot down to set an example to the peo- 
 ple. The captain would count, "One — two — 
 three ! " and the firing squad would shoot a man. 
 
i66 ''Back From Heir' 
 
 Then again " One — two — three, shoot 1 '' " One 
 — two — three, shoot I " 
 
 Out on the public square of Dinant, more than 
 four hundred of the civilians of the town were 
 herded together, having been dragged from their 
 homes or seized upon the streets. They were 
 huddled in that square and ropes were stretched 
 around the company. Then the German machine 
 gun captain standing a score of yards away, on the 
 word of command, opened up that death-dealing 
 device which shoots more than eight hundred times 
 a minute, and mowed down that crowd of people 
 on the public square as though it had been cattle in 
 a slaughter house. Nor did the German Govern- 
 ment itself deny these things. In fact it admitted 
 innocent slaughter, in some cases. But it sought to 
 justify it as a means to its military goal. The 
 German White Book itself speaks of the measures 
 taken at Dinant. It says that the German soldiers 
 were repairing a bridge which the Belgians had 
 destroyed to prevent the Germans from coming 
 into their town. But the enemy finally took the 
 place and as they worked on the bridge (so the 
 German version reads) some Belgians fired upon 
 them from the roofs of the houses in the vicinity. 
 Whereupon the soldiers caught all the Belgian 
 
Results of ''Frightfulness" 167 
 
 people they could find upon the street, lined them 
 up against the wall, and announced that if there 
 was any further firing, these people would all be 
 killed. The report says, " Still the firing continued, 
 and then we shot the innocent people. We had to 
 do it, otherwise our words would have been but an 
 idle threat. We were compelled to do these 
 things in order to accomplish our military goal, 
 which must be achieved at all costs." 
 
 And with this ideal in view, they raged through 
 the land leaving it little more than a pile of black- 
 ened brick and ashes soaked in blood. I went to 
 Louvain, to Mons, and Charleroi, to Namur and 
 Haecht and Aerschot in like manner, and in these 
 places also I saw and heard such heart-breaking 
 things. These acts were the result of the policy 
 of '' f rightfulness " which the Germans had been 
 taught thoroughly. After sufficient experience 
 with this sort of thing and being sickened with It 
 all, I finally turned my face back toward the 
 north. 
 
o 
 
 CHAPTER XXX 
 
 MY MENTAL PROCESSES 
 
 F COURSE I did not know what was ahead 
 of me, but I knew from the experiences 
 which were back of me how I felt toward the 
 Germans. I had gotten so that every time a Ger- 
 man soldier passed me on the street with his arro- 
 gant and hardened attitude, I muttered the words, 
 "The scourge," under my breath. I had seen the 
 invariable results of his Kultur and they had in 
 every case been sordid and degrading. Hence- 
 forth I could not look upon him with anything 
 else than contempt and hatred. The vandalism 
 which I had seen and the terrible crimes that I 
 had learned of, aroused in me something that 
 I had not realized before. An anger such as 
 seldom comes to men and such as I had not sus- 
 pected my pacifist nature capable of, now seized 
 hold of me. I vowed in my secret self that if 
 I ever got out alive I would throw the weight 
 of my small influence against that inhuman 
 machine. 
 
 i68 
 
 fi 
 
My Mental Processes 169 
 
 The Good Book speaks of a " righteous indigna- 
 tion," and if ever there was such a thing In the 
 heart of a human I believe it had possession of 
 me then. Nor was It a momentary Impulse. I 
 had grimly and deliberately gone from place to 
 place, day after day, for the purpose of collecting 
 unbiased facts and Impressions and these latter 
 had taken their own course In my heart and brain. 
 Of course I wrote nothing down. I made no at- 
 tempt to get a single letter out of Belgium during 
 all the time that I was there. I was afraid that 
 it would get me Into trouble when I came to 
 leave. I kept no diary whatever. I needed none. 
 All the things which I have related have been from 
 memory, but these facts were so vividly burned 
 into my soul that they will never be forgotten 
 unless my faculty of memory be permanently de- 
 stroyed. I did not write down the Impressions 
 which came to me, or the process of conversion 
 which was constantly taking place within my being. 
 I dared not commit these things to paper. I real- 
 ized that I was in the hands of a powerful and 
 terrible people who would show no mercy upon 
 one who was not in sympathy with its aims and 
 methods. Nevertheless, I swore that if I ever 
 got free from them I would tell the world the 
 
I70 ''Back From Hell'' 
 
 facts and do everything within my power to thwart 
 them and their purposes. 
 
 Before I had left the States I had not only been 
 a pacifist, but I had been neutral as well. Any 
 person in my former congregation could testify 
 that I never spoke one word from the platform 
 against the Germans, but now I have no hesitation 
 in condemning them with vehemence and oppos- 
 ing them with violence. It might seem to some as 
 though this was a strange attitud'e for a minister 
 of Christ to take, but I was led on as inevitably to 
 this position as the compass needle seeks the pole. 
 I had no choice. I could not help myself, but to- 
 day I am proud to state that I accepted this conclu- 
 sion and that deliberately and boldly I will de- 
 fend it. 
 
 In a Utopian world one can act in a Utopian 
 manner. And a Utopian world is a beautiful 
 theory. But It Is a theory and a dream. You and 
 I today are living in a world of stern, cruel fact; 
 in this world of fact we find the stern, cruel Ger- 
 man. We find him here in possession of a land 
 which he has stolen by stern, cruel, and murderous 
 methods. He intends to keep that land, perpetu- 
 ate those methods, and steal more land by identical 
 methods. These are the methods he knows and 
 
n 
 
 a, V) 
 
 ^P 
 
' My Mental Processes 171 
 
 employs. These are the only methods he respects 
 or that make any impression on him whatever. 
 Then we must use stern methods against him in 
 order to overcome and thwart him and restore the 
 world to normal methods and life. Otherwise he 
 will encroach and impose his system upon the 
 whole world and his method will be the permanent 
 and the universal fate. 
 
 If we see a wolf we meet him with force. If 
 we deal with a kind man we meet him with kind- 
 ness. If we meet a reasonable and intelligent be- 
 ing we answer him with reason and intelligent 
 argument, and if we find vicious, violent men, 
 whether burglars, I. W. W.'s, or Germans, we 
 meet them with police, with militia, and with force. 
 In a world of fact this is the only way we have of 
 meeting such. We cannot confront a real and 
 stern and urgent situation with a hazy theory, 
 beautiful as it may be. In the meantime, if we do, 
 we will have no country. We will have a German- 
 ized world, and from our recent experience of 
 Germanism we are convinced that this would be 
 defiantly opposed to the will of God. 
 
 Being an American citizen It was natural that 
 the ideals of our constitution should be rooted In 
 my nature, and now I could not but bring them into 
 
172 ''Back From Hell'' 
 
 contrast with the ideals of Germanism as demon- 
 strated in this war. I believed these American 
 principles to be Christian principles and the very 
 backbone of them to be at cross purposes with the 
 German goal. Our forefathers ordained and 
 established that constitution in order to establish 
 justice which the German had tried to break down 
 while he established injustice. Our forefathers 
 desired to promote the general welfare and insure 
 the blessings of liberty to themselves and to poster- 
 ity, while the German machine had existed and had 
 begun this war for the purpose of enslaving people 
 and exploiting them, thus depriving them of 
 liberty. 
 
 Now one or the other of these viewpoints was 
 right. If America was right, Germany was 
 wrong. Every clod and stone of Belgium de- 
 clared the guilt of Germany. And I now declare 
 that Germany is wrong! And therefore when 
 she menaces the world in a military sense she must 
 be put down by military means. When one rea- 
 sons the matter out from the facts he cannot get 
 away from this logic. Germany must be put 
 down by military means I 
 
 Now, of course, I did not say this to the Ger- 
 mans who were constantly on guard in the towns 
 
My Mental Processes 173 
 
 and cities. I had no military forces at my com- 
 mand. They hadthe guns. Nevertheless, I was 
 now morally on the side of the Allied nations who 
 were fighting to defend justice, right, and truth. I 
 firmly believe that this eye-opening experience In 
 Belgium under the very noses of the Germans and 
 within their very power was the thing which 
 brought me to a right perspective of life and to be 
 able to clearly see things in their relative and 
 proper values. 
 
 My viewpoint changed, and I am sure that I can 
 never be the same man again. Nobody can be the 
 same who has been in this war. 
 
CHAPTER XXXI 
 
 A NIGHT IN LOUVAIN 
 
 IN PARIS I had met and talked with Arno 
 Dosch Fleuro, an American reporter who had 
 been with Richard Harding Davis at Louvain 
 while it was burning. He had told me that when 
 he was there the party was locked In a railroad car 
 but that they could see the blazing buildings from 
 the car window and hear and see the ungodly things 
 which were taking place In the station square. The 
 German soldiers were heavily Intoxicated and were 
 bringing lots of Belgians from all quarters of the 
 city and executing them. 
 
 One group of soldiers would come In from the 
 street, driving perhaps a dozen or twenty Belgians 
 ahead of them. They would bring them Into the 
 station square, hand them over to another detach- 
 ment which would take them out behind the station, 
 and a volley of bullets would be heard. Then 
 another crowd would be brought In. They too 
 would be taken out behind the depot and then an- 
 other volley of bullets. 
 
 '74 
 
A Night in Louvain 175 
 
 One hilarious German jumped up onto a wagon 
 and began haranguing and explaining why It was 
 necessary for these people to be killed. 
 
 "The whole Louvain affair, the wanton burn- 
 ing and the murder, was nothing more than a 
 drunken orgy." This was Arno's statement. The 
 officers acquiesced In the affair, but later on when 
 learning of the effect on neutral countries, the 
 Kaiser said, " My heart bleeds for Louvain." 
 Arno also said that he was the only one of the 
 party In the car who could speak German and he 
 had kept one soldier who was not so drunk as the 
 rest, engaged In conversation at the car window, 
 and this had protected them from the more intoxi- 
 cated ones. 
 
 I knew that Arno himself was a German and I 
 asked him if he had seen Richard Harding Davis' 
 book on the subject. He said, "No, Davis got 
 back long before I did, but I have heard that he 
 wrote a book about it. What did he say? Did he 
 say he was out in the town of Louvain ? If he did, 
 he Is faking It up, because we were all locked In the 
 car. V 
 
 I said I could not remember just what Davis 
 had said. When I returned to my room in Paris, 
 however, I looked up Davis* story again and found 
 
176 ''Back From Heir' 
 
 it had agreed exactly with Arno's account. He ad- 
 mitted that they had not been out of the train, so I 
 knew the narrative was true. 
 
 Later on when I went to Louvain myself, I 
 found that instead of exaggerating the case these 
 men had very much understated it. I am not go- 
 ing to overstate it, but I will not cover up the facts 
 in my recital of the events. I was in Louvain 
 twice, but the first time I only saw it hurriedly and 
 superficially on my way to Liege. The second 
 time I stayed a night and a day. Before the war 
 began the city had a population of forty-five thou- 
 sand. It had perhaps ten thousand then. It was 
 not all destroyed and the statement that the Hotel 
 de Ville was burned is incorrect. That beautiful 
 city hall was saved by the Germans for their own 
 use. Outside of this one building, however, every 
 public building in Louvain is in ruins today. For 
 several square miles in the heart of the city there is 
 not a structure left. The cathedral is burned, al- 
 though the walls still stand. The university 
 library is gone, and in fact, aside from a fringe of 
 houses, mostly tenements, around the edge of the 
 city the most of the edifices are razed to the 
 ground. And a man with whom I talked told me 
 that fifteen of his fellow-townsmen there were 
 
A Night in Louvain 177 
 
 taken by the German soldiers and thrown alive 
 into a vat of quicklime in a factory and were left 
 to die In the agonies of hell. He pointed out the 
 place and told the story, crying as he did so. I 
 believed him. 
 
CHAPTER XXXII 
 
 RUIN AND DEATH 
 
 IN THE course of my travels I happened to run 
 across two Belgians, one of whom had a 
 brother at Andenne. Upon learning that I was an 
 American he became very friendly and confiden- 
 tial and requested that I call upon his brother, 
 giving me a card to him and assuring me that I 
 would find a cordial reception. He said Andenne 
 presented one of the saddest spectacles of the 
 entire district and his brother had passed through 
 the whole ordeal. At the time he told me this I 
 was on my way from Liege to Namur. It was 
 necessary to take a horse conveyance a part of the 
 distance, between Flemalle and Huy, and I had 
 this conversation with him In the hack. I was very 
 glad to act upon his suggestion and Instead of 
 going Into Namur that evening I got off at An- 
 denne. It was not difficult to find the man's 
 brother and when I gave him the card and told 
 him I was an American he certainly did treat me 
 royally. That evening we talked far into the 
 
 178 
 
Ruin and Death 179 
 
 night. He showed me the destruction which the 
 Germans had wrought in his own home and told 
 me of the things they had stolen from him. Inci- 
 dentally, the desk in his front room had been 
 locked when the Germans broke into the house, 
 but they had overturned it, smashed the drawers 
 in from the bottom and thoroughly looted it. 
 
 The next morning he took me for a walk 
 through the town. As we went through the streets 
 I noticed that every house in the place had been 
 riddled with bullet holes. There were hundreds 
 of holes right through the solid brick. The Ger- 
 man machine gunners had simply gone through the 
 place and raked every house so that if there was a 
 single person in it, even asleep in his bed, those 
 bullets would seek him out and send him to meet 
 his God. Besides this, every house had the front 
 doors and windows smashed in and now tempor- 
 ary boardings were nailed up in the place of them. 
 By and by in the progress of our walk we came 
 to the edge of the town. 
 
 There, along the side of the road, he showed 
 me two tremendous graves side by side. I am 
 sure they were not less than fifteen by twenty-five 
 feet in dimension and piled up a couple of feet 
 high with quicklime. 
 
i8o ''Back From Hell'' 
 
 " There are sixty of my fellow-townsmen buried 
 in each one of those graves," said my escort. 
 ** Piled in there three deep. These men were 
 shot down by the German soldiers when they 
 entered the town for no other offense than that of 
 being Belgian citizens." 
 
 The thing seemed incredible. "Are you certain 
 about this?" I asked him. "Were you person- 
 ally acquainted with these innocent people who 
 were murdered?" 
 
 " I have lived here all my life," he replied, " and 
 I am thirty-five years old. This was a place of 
 four thousand people before the war and naturally 
 I must have known almost everybody in the town." 
 
 I then said to him, " Would you be willing to 
 give me a list of the names of some of the people 
 whom you know to have been innocently mur- 
 dered?" He said he would be very glad to do so, 
 and when we got back to his house he took a piece 
 of paper and in a very few minutes' time wrote 
 out a list of fifteen or twenty names, bracketing 
 those which belonged to the same family. In 
 some instances whole families of three to five peo- 
 ple were annihilated by the Germans. 
 
 That little piece of paper later on came very 
 nearly getting me executed. But it served to show 
 
Ruin and Death i8i 
 
 the deliberate policy of terrorism and frightful- 
 ness which the Huns pursued. The man pointed 
 out house after house, naming the owner and his 
 occupation where these murders had been com- 
 mitted. 
 
 Later on I went to Aerschot. I had read In the 
 Bryce report of Aerschot. When I entered the 
 town on the electric tram car I saw the old familiar 
 sight. It was the spectacle of gable ends of houses 
 and stores sticking up toward heaven, the roofs 
 having fallen in, all burned out Inside and gaping 
 at me from the smoke-blackened window holes 
 where formerly the faces of the little children 
 smiled. The whole town was In ruins. I entered 
 a little shack where a woman was keeping store. 
 We had a short conversation about the tragic ex- 
 periences there and finally when I started to leave 
 she became excited and frantic. I saw anger and 
 tears coming into her eyes and she shot forth her 
 hand and almost screamed, "Yes, and my own 
 husband was shot down by my side also, as we 
 were hiding in the cellar! We saw the German 
 soldiers coming and we rushed below for refuge. 
 They broke into our house, stole what they wanted, 
 and then hunted us out in the cellar and shot my 
 husband by my side. They then seized my own 
 
i82 ''Back From Hell'' 
 
 father, sixty-eight years of age, handcuffed him 
 and dragged him out to the public square where 
 with numbers of others of our townsmen he was 
 shot down in cold blood and left lying unburied on 
 the open square for two nights and two days. 
 They wouldn't even let me bury him.*' 
 
 And so it was that this kind of experience was 
 repeated over and over again as I journeyed 
 through desolated Belgium. The Germans put 
 a deliberate policy of murder and of vandalism 
 into awful execution. 
 
 They laid low the country on every hand. The 
 traveler sees a remarkable country and a wonder- 
 ful civilization, but one which has been annihilated 
 by the unappreciative Hun, a brother to the beast. 
 I have seen marvelously beautiful cathedrals, 
 adorned by the conceptions of the greatest mas- 
 ters, built in honor of the one great Master who 
 said, "All ye are brethren," shot to pieces by can- 
 non, riddled by machine guns, burned up by flam- 
 ing projectiles, thrown with terribly deliberate and 
 accurate aim; cathedrals where the Christ had 
 once been worshiped, and where the holy instincts 
 of gentleness and love were inculcated. Now the 
 figures of the Christ have sword thrusts In their 
 sides and the hands and feet and face are pierced 
 
Ruin and Death 183 
 
 with bullets from the machine guns. I have seen 
 widows wearing crape, with babies In their arms 
 who cried for food and have been told by them as 
 their eyes flamed up, how their loved ones were 
 shot down by their sides or taken out and bayo- 
 neted In their sight; loved ones who had no part 
 in the battle. 
 
 When the people learned that the German Army 
 had entered the town they frequently took refuge 
 In the cellar, but the relentless soldiers sought 
 them out. They broke In the doors and windows 
 of the houses, stole the goods which they could 
 carry, shot the men and then set fire to the home, 
 and In not a few cases they shot and bayoneted the 
 women and the babies. Priests also were made 
 a special object of attack and the repeated narra- 
 tives of particular cruelty toward them could not 
 but carry conviction. A priest of Louvain who 
 had escaped to Holland, later told me of forty 
 of his fellow-priests being trapped In their head- 
 quarters and every one shot down. 
 
 At the little town of B the soldiers de- 
 manded the keys to the church from the Belgian 
 priest. In order that they could go in and burn it. 
 When the priest refused they dragged him out of 
 the house, over to the steps of the church, where 
 
i84 ''Back From Hell'' 
 
 they cut off his ears and nose and left him there 
 alone, where Death shortly found him. These 
 facts are corroborated by witnesses, who take 
 solemn oath to the truth of them; and to anyone 
 who has been In Belgium during the present war, 
 no tale of savagery would sound too wild for be- 
 lief. The Huns have forgotten that they 
 ever were human beings and have reverted to the 
 wolf, and so they swarmed through Belgium and 
 through northern France, this scourge of God, 
 two million strong,, blasting and withering every- 
 thing they touched. 
 
 As I traveled through the country I saw houses 
 by the scores and hundreds upon which machine 
 guns had been turned, while occupied by un- 
 armed and Innocent people, and the tragedy was 
 fearful. These things I have seen with my own 
 eyes and heard with my own ears. The high 
 power of these modern shooting devices Is almost 
 beyond conception. At L I saw two rapid- 
 fire guns as I got off the train at the station, little 
 gray. Innocent looking things, a sort of rifle barrel 
 mounted on a tripod, with a shield for the operator 
 to stand behind, yet those guns could shoot seven 
 hundred times a minute and when equipped with 
 an electric motor they shoot four times that num- 
 
Rutn and Death 185 
 
 ber, and they shoot to kill. Often with a range of 
 two to three miles, they will deal sure death at a 
 distance of a mile and a half. They are con- 
 stantly trained on the city. Then their big guns 
 astound the reason I 
 
 The Springfield rifle has a range of five miles 
 and the bullet on leaving the gun goes at a velocity 
 of half a mile a second, or enough momentum to 
 drive It through four and one-half feet of white 
 pine. The siege guns which the Germans dragged 
 up before the forts of Liege could drive a tremen- 
 dous hole a foot and a half in diameter through 
 twelve feet of solid concrete or four feet of solid 
 steel. 
 
 Yet, notwithstanding this, having all the hellish 
 machinery of war that the mind is capable of de- 
 vising, they want still more and are ready to pay 
 handsome sums to clever inventors who will turn 
 out new and unheard of Instruments of torture 
 and death. They build boats which submerge 
 themselves beneath the ocean, and from this posi- 
 tion of vantage hurl deadly missiles and send to 
 the bottom giant ships carrying thousands of inno- 
 cent human lives; they experiment until they find 
 deadly gases which can be projected at the enemy, 
 causing indescribable agony as they are breathed 
 
i86 ''Back From Heir' 
 
 into the lungs, while the unhappy victim writhes 
 in pain and shortly dies; that they may be more 
 terrible than Attila, the Hun, in their policy of 
 frightfulness, in order to subjugate the world, yet 
 they have failed, in that they have neglected to 
 take into view the eternal laws of God. They 
 have forgotten that the race is not always to the 
 swift nor the battle to the strong. Eternal laws 
 cannot be frustrated, and Germany has failed! 
 Again I say, Germany has failed! History teaches 
 him who is able to learn, that the Creator never 
 meant one regime to rule the world. The Hun 
 has failed. The Kaiser does not govern the Al- 
 mighty nor run this universe. Man is dust and 
 God alone is great. 
 
CHAPTER XXXIII 
 
 IN THE PALACE OF THE KING 
 
 WHILE I was in Brussels I stayed all the 
 time at the same hotel, that of Madame 
 Baily-Moremans, No. 26, Rue de Vieux Marche 
 au Grains, down near the Bourse. Her maiden 
 name had been Moremans but over there when a 
 woman is married her name often comes last in- 
 stead of the man's. Here it would be Madame 
 Moremans-Baily. 
 
 White sitting in the cafe one day, she intro- 
 duced me to a wounded French soldier from Paris 
 who was a prisoner of war. He had had one leg 
 shot off but was about on his wooden leg and was 
 staying at King Albert's palace, which had been 
 converted into a Red Cross hospital. He was 
 allowed by the Germans one free afternoon a 
 week, to go down town for two hours, and I met 
 him on one of these occasions. He told me many 
 strange tales of frightfulness and gave me his 
 card, asking me to come and visit him at the pal- 
 ace. You cannot go there except you have the 
 
 187 
 
i88 ''Back From Hell'' 
 
 name of someone whom you wish to see, and then 
 you may visit only on Sunday afternoon between 
 two and three o'clock. German sentinels are con- 
 stantly on guard outside of the palace. When I 
 went to see him he presented me with a photo- 
 graph of himself, and having told him confiden- 
 tially that I was going back to France, he gave me 
 his mother's address in Paris. I afterward found 
 her and told her about her son. 
 
 While I was talking with him I noticed that he 
 was continually rubbing his arm, and I finally 
 asked him what was the matter. He then told me 
 of his own almost incredible experience. He said 
 he was lying on the ground at the battle of the 
 Marne, with his leg blown off by shrapnel; while 
 helpless there in this condition a German sergeant 
 came up and attempted to go through his pockets 
 and rob him of some money which he had upon 
 his person. He objected, naturally, and I suppose 
 protested violently, as any human would. Where- 
 upon the German drew his saber and gashed him 
 across his right arm and then drew his pistol and 
 shot him through his left shoulder. 
 
 As the man finished telling me he looked about 
 to see If any women were near, and not seeing 
 any, pulled off his coat, rolled his sleeve way up, 
 
In the Palace of the King 189 
 
 and showed me one of the most ugly gashes that I 
 have ever seen. His arm was half cut off, and I 
 shall never forget to my dying day the look of re- 
 venge that was on his face. Nevertheless Jean 
 was a good fellow and talked and laughed in spite 
 of his mutilated condition. 
 
 The daughter of the landlady of the hotel had 
 accompanied me to the palace, and as we were 
 leaving the place we were both looking with bulg- 
 ing eyes about those great salons and taking in the 
 marvelous chandeliers and gorgeous mosaics. 
 Presently she said in a childish way, "I don't — 
 think — I — should like to be a queen — it's all 
 too large and grand for me. I would rather live in 
 my own humble little home, down town." 
 
 I have never forgotten that remark of the little 
 Belgian girl. For as I reflected on it I thought of 
 Belgium's queen, and where she now is — an out- 
 cast, an exile, having no country and no home, 
 while the little girl did have one, such as it was. 
 It was a home nevertheless. 
 
 The words of the poet came back to me, 
 Princes and lords may flourish or may fade; 
 A breath can make them, as a breath has made: 
 But a bold peasantry ^ the country's pride, 
 When once destroyed, can never be supplied 
 
CHAPTER XXXIV 
 
 THE kaiser's envy 
 
 TWO thousand years ago an invading mon- 
 arch, Julius Caesar, in his Commentaries 
 said that the Belgians were the best fighting men 
 that he had met; and the reason was that they 
 inhabited the best country he had visited. 
 
 Part of the ground is mountainous and in some 
 places it rises sheer in the air for a thousand feet 
 in solid rock and makes a formidable position for 
 a stronghold or fortress. 
 
 In other places it rolls away from the eye for 
 miles in beautiful valleys, and fertile plains. The 
 view reminds one of a great ocean on a calm 
 and peaceful day. A fertile country, made 
 doubly so by the ingenuity and industry of its in- 
 habitants. The people of this remarkable land 
 have constructed reservoirs and dug canals, erect- 
 ing dykes and curious windmills, so that like Hol- 
 land, her nearest neighbor, Belgium has irrigated 
 her fields and made her water supply regular, and 
 therefore her crops are certain. 
 
 190 
 
The Kaiser's Envy 191^ 
 
 [The traveler as he passes through on foot or on 
 the meandering tramways is pleasantly surprised 
 to see the abundance of the verdure and heaviness 
 of the grain in the fields and is often amused to 
 see the little carts go by loaded high with produce, 
 drawn to market by the stout family dog, or, 
 as is more often the case, two. These faithful 
 friends display amazing strength and willingness 
 and when hitched up will pull almost like a horse. 
 Dairying is an important product in Belgium, and 
 great cans of milk are loaded on these carts and 
 the thirsty one can buy a pint for a penny or two 
 and drink it as he stands upon the street by the 
 cart, while the family dog is lying down under it. 
 
 The spectacle of the peasant folk thus hauling 
 about their wares is very picturesque. A man or 
 woman following a dog-cart and often times lend- 
 ing a hand to help push the load, is a very ordi- 
 nary scene in the streets of that little country of 
 one hundred miles square, but its prosperity and 
 beauty present a peculiar fascination to anyone 
 who has seen it. The German Emperor had seen 
 it, and that was why he had attacked it. 
 
 Covetousness, that strange quality, appears to 
 be a part of the make-up of the human mind. The 
 devil apparently injected this fatal poison into the 
 
192 ''Back From Hell" 
 
 veins of man. Most people hold it partially under 
 control, but some give free reign to it and allow it 
 to become the ruling power in their lives. The 
 Kaiser, reared in an artificial atmosphere, has not 
 been able to resist this temptation, and so in his 
 life it has been given unbounded sway; and, what 
 is worse, through many patient years he has inocu- 
 lated othei; men with the virus and under its influ- 
 ence built up a great machine for military con- 
 quest. 
 
 He has always dreamed of world empire. He 
 once said, "I have been raised upon the lives of 
 Alexander, Theodoric, Caesar, Frederick the 
 Great, and Napoleon. These men all dreamed 
 of world empire. They failed. I have dreamed 
 of world empire, and by the might of the mailed 
 fist I shall not fail." He and the clique of men 
 whom he has gathered about him possess a 
 marvelous amount of persistence and thorough- 
 ness, feeling also a superiority over other peoples, 
 and they have depended upon might to bring them 
 victory. 
 
 Some delusion inherited from his ancestors and 
 cultivated by his intimate friends caused the 
 Kaiser, even when a very young man, to believe 
 that he had a God-given right to possess anything 
 
The Kaiser's Envy 193 
 
 that he could acquire, either by fair means or foul, 
 and he has never taken any pains to control or 
 diminish the conviction. As a matter of fact, on 
 the contrary, he studiously cultivated and nursed 
 it until it came to be the absorbing ambition of his 
 life. When he came to the throne thirty years 
 ago he announced himself as "Earth's supreme 
 war lord." And because his empire continued to 
 grow and develop rapidly, he seemed to take it 
 that the forces of the universe were backing him 
 up and that the Creator was with him and had 
 given him special dispensation to manage the 
 universe. 
 
 In the beginning, doubtless, his conceptions had 
 been more vague and abstract, but as time went 
 on they became definite and concrete. He had 
 seen the happy and prosperous lands of Belgium 
 and France to the west, and he had wanted them. 
 This settled the matter. It might shock the world 
 and cost a terrific price, but that was incidental. 
 Let others "pay the piper," he would reap the 
 gain. His philosophy of "Might makes Right" 
 cleverly disseminated through the empire, has 
 caused many of his people to believe in it. 
 
 When one examines for a moment this concep- 
 tion which these German people have been taught, 
 
194 ''Back From Hell'' 
 
 it makes their attitude more understandable, al- 
 though no more excusable. For a generation or 
 more they have been taught the "blood and iron 
 philosophy." The crime is to be laid at the door 
 of the leaders and the thinkers, and the great men 
 of the nation. These have been false teachers, 
 and "when the blind lead the blind, both fall into 
 the ditch." They have inculcated a system of 
 thinking, into the minds of large numbers of peo- 
 ple, which leads them to believe that they are 
 especially designed to dominate the world. Any 
 means which they may employ to attain, estab- 
 lish, and maintain their supremacy are justifiable. 
 Even the professors in the schools and the theo- 
 logians, as well, will unblushingly defend this posi- 
 tion and justify German crime. As a result of this 
 doctrine — see Belgium and northern France! 
 Belgium, a murdered country, a ravished people, 
 justice outraged, homes violated, churches dese- 
 crated, altars battered down, black hell turned 
 loose, and all "justified" by the German conten- 
 tion. Ninety-three of the leading professors in 
 the university, men to whom the world looked for 
 light, but unfortunately men whose salaries might 
 be cut off by the Kaiser at an hour's notice, de- 
 fended this outrage, saying that Belgium was not 
 
The Kaiser's Envy 195 
 
 wronged. It is safe to assume that the Kaiser re- 
 quested the statement. 
 
 Barbarian savages centuries ago defended the 
 same identical argument that might is the right of 
 the stronger. The nation's leaders, such as Bis- 
 marck and Bernhardi, Treitschke, Nietzsche, and 
 the Kaiser himself have advocated this doctrine. 
 Emperor William once told his troops to make 
 themselves as terrible as Attila, the Hun. They 
 have not forgotten this, for in Belgium they exe- 
 cuted his command in a grimly literal sense. 
 
CHAPTER XXXy 
 
 CAUGHT BY THE HUNS AND TRIED AS A SPY 
 
 WHEN I returned to Brussels I applied 
 at the German office for a pass to Hol- 
 land. I was told to come back '* Next Tuesday," 
 which was five days hence ! Meanwhile the Ger- 
 mans kept my American passport. I was angry 
 again. But I decided it was no use to worry Mr. 
 Whitlock, as he could have no influence with these 
 German officials anyway. His heart was willing 
 but his power was weak with them. He had 
 frankly said so. But I was not going to lose those 
 intervening days, so I went without my passport to 
 Mons again and also to Waterloo. At the latter 
 place I climbed that Immense artificial mountain 
 two hundred and twenty-six steps up the side of it, 
 cone-shaped as it Is, and stood beneath that great 
 British lion of bronze, a monument against the 
 mania for world empire which Napoleon had a 
 hundred years ago. There were three German 
 soldiers up there so I did not tarry long. I was 
 afraid they would ask me to show my papers. I 
 
 196 
 
Caught and Tried as a Spy 197 
 
 was not supposed to move without them and was 
 expected to stay in Brussels. However, I had not 
 attempted to go on the trains, as German officers 
 guard every depot and make anyone approaching 
 the station show their papers. Lacking mine I 
 would have been thrown into jail. So I had taken 
 the tram, which is still run by the Belgian peo- 
 ;ple, and fortunately I was not challenged. Soon 
 after I left Waterloo I read that the Germans 
 had torn down that great British lion, that his- 
 toric monument a century old, and made it into 
 bullets to shoot back at the British who put it 
 there. It was a strange irony. 
 
 Back in Brussels I again applied for my pass- 
 ports at the end of the five days. Instead of get- 
 ting them I got arrested ! 
 
 During the searching of my person which fol- 
 lowed, and which was conducted with character- 
 istic German thoroughness by Viellaur and his 
 assistant, a bullet-headed fellow whose name I do 
 not know, a peculiar incident occurred. I had a 
 certain amount of material such as personal cards, 
 souvenirs, etc., as any man is apt to have with 
 him, although I had determined not to have 
 anything about me which might in any way offend 
 the Germans or give the slightest ground for sus- 
 
198 ''Back From Heir 
 
 piclon that I was collecting information, possibly 
 for the enemy. I did unconsciously accumulate a 
 few innocent cards which people handed to me in 
 this place and In that. I do not care who he is, 
 any man who will turn his pockets Inside out will 
 find little things like that which perhaps he did 
 not know he had or had forgotten all about. 
 
 Also I had a book of cigarette papers which I 
 had brought all the way from France. Being a 
 preacher, of course I had no use for them I But 
 an enthusiastic poilu had wanted me to have some 
 souvenir to remember him by and not having any- 
 thing else had presented me with this. Now the 
 papers were not the kind which are stuck Individu- 
 ally with mucilage by one edge Into the cover and 
 which I believe are called Rlz-la-Croix, but the 
 brand called ZIg-Zag, which are creased in the mid- 
 dle and folded Into each other, so that when you 
 pull out one, It pulls the edge of the next one Into 
 view, and so on. Now, when It is open. If you press 
 the two ends of the cover of this little book to^ 
 gether a small aperture is disclosed In the back of 
 the book, a kind of pocket, a thing which I suppose 
 not one man out of a thousand who uses them con- 
 stantly ever discovered. There is no reason why he 1 
 should. But I had discovered this aperture and I | 
 
Caught and Tried as a Spy 199 
 
 suppose for convenience sake and possibly also for 
 secrecy had stuck the check for my uniform in that 
 aperture behind the cigarette papers when I re- 
 ceived it at the Great Northern Railway station in 
 London. The check was a good sized piece of 
 paper on which the parcel man had written a de- 
 scription of my package, " i Khaki Uniform/' and 
 which I had folded up and stuck in there and 
 promptly forgotten. When Viellaur, taking me 
 by surprise, suddenly began searching me, among 
 other things he took this book of cigarette papers 
 out of my pocket. He also found that list of mur- 
 dered men from Andenne. From top to toe he 
 had rifled me, and all my possessions were lying 
 on his desk. Then, for some reason, he went 
 around to the other side of the desk, and his assis- 
 tant, with the bullet-head, began carefully examin- 
 ing all the articles. Certain things were plainly 
 innocent and uninteresting. These he laid in one 
 pile. For instance, there was a key, a plain picture 
 (post card, a paper napkin from Liege, etc. Cer- 
 tain other things looked interesting to him and he 
 laid these on another pile. On the interesting pile 
 he laid all cards which besides bearing the printed 
 names of the original owners had other names and 
 addresses written on them in handwriting, in ink, 
 
200 ''Back From Heir' 
 
 or pencil. On the uninteresting pile he put all the 
 other things. 
 
 Imagine my astonishment when Mr. Bullet-head 
 began pulling out one cigarette paper after an- 
 other from that book and finally squeezed the cov- 
 ers and saw the paper check for my uniform back 
 in the little pocket-like aperture I He took it out 
 deliberately, unfolded It and looked It over, and 
 evidently not being able to make any sense out of 
 it calmly laid it on the uninteresting pile ! I heaved 
 a sigh of relief for my heart had been in my 
 mouth. If he had been anything but a German 
 he would have immediately drawn the conclusion, 
 fatal for me, that when I had a check for my uni- 
 form and baggage in London, I must have used 
 them In the Allies' service, and I certainly Intended 
 to go back and get them. But going back to the 
 enemy was just what they did not want. It was 
 lucky that Viellaur, who knew English perfectly, 
 did not see that check. You may be sure that the 
 first chance I got I put the uninteresting pile back in 
 my pocket so that he would not see It and It would 
 not damn me. But the thrilling part was to come. 
 Not feeling satisfied with the search, Mr. Bullet- 
 head decided to go through me once again and 
 made no bones or hesitation about promptly put- 
 
Caught and Tried as a Spy 201 
 
 ting his decision into execution. Alas I He drew 
 from the lining of my coat some maps of Belgium, 
 where it looked as though I had deliberately put 
 them in an attempt to hide them. " Cursed be the 
 Fates anyway," I exclaimed to myself. My coat 
 lining was torn just at the top of my inside pocket 
 and when I had innocently put the maps in my 
 pocket I had unwittingly put them inside the lining 
 instead. It was fearfully damaging evidence! 
 Though done unconsciously it did look mighty sus- 
 picious and when he began examining the map and 
 saw the towns which I had marked and particularly 
 the ones which I had considered important places, 
 he concluded I was a spy. 
 
 These towns, as a matter of fact, which had the 
 circles of stars around them had been so marked 
 by the manufacturer to indicate that they were 
 fortified towns, but I did not know it. The evi- 
 dence pointed to the conclusion that I had planned 
 my visits to the fortifications to gather military 
 information and with no good intent towards 
 Germany. They were now sure I was a spy and, 
 by George I before they were through with me I 
 just about began to wonder if I wasn't one my- 
 self. I must confess at this distance of security 
 and of time It did look most mightily suspicious. 
 
202 ''Back From Hell'' 
 
 It certainly did, and I was in for the "third 
 degree.'* 
 
 After the German officers had searched me, and 
 examined the papers, they threw me into a big 
 gray mihtary automobile, handcuffing me to the 
 machine, and hurried me down to my hotel. They 
 searched my room and grip, and then brought me 
 back and threw me Into a guard room. Five sol- 
 diers with saw-edged bayonets were set to watch 
 me. I did whatever they told me without arguing. 
 Upon being searched the several cards with names 
 and addresses which Belgians from here and there 
 had given me in the hope that I might find and 
 cheer some dear one with news of their safety, 
 were found upon my person. I was, therefore, 
 charged with being a spy and with having gone to 
 all these towns for the purpose of getting military 
 information for the enemy. The fact that they 
 themselves had given me the pass made no differ- 
 ence. Having so many spies in every country them- 
 selves made the Germans suspicious of everyone 
 else. I was left in that guard room and told that 
 I would have to stay until after lunch. The man 
 must have eaten a heavy meal instead of a lunch, 
 for he did not come back for me until five o'clock 
 in the afternoon. I was given no lunch. Then the 
 
Caught and Tried as a Spy 203 
 
 officer came for me, and I was questioned until 
 way into the night. 
 
 Next day I was put through the " third degree." 
 I will not attempt to describe the grilling which I 
 got, but take my word it was a fearful ordeal. 
 
CHAPTER XXXVI 
 
 THREATENED WITH CRUCIFIXION 
 
 WHEN it was apparent to the Germans that 
 they were able to get no satisfaction from 
 me and could not intimidate me into admitting that 
 I was paid by the British Government, they tried 
 more effective measures. 
 
 I am frank to admit that during the whole of 
 the proceeding I was frightened. I will go even 
 further than that and confess I was scared nearly 
 to death. 
 
 Physically I was intimidated and terrorized and 
 at times I could realize and even see that my knees 
 were shaking, and trembling from fright. Yet 
 strange as it may sound, mentally I was calm and 
 cool and kept my wits about me perfectly. And, 
 my friends, you can say what you please about the 
 delusions that men have of God's presence, and 
 about the "Onlooking Father" being merely a 
 dream-fancy of the imagination, but you can't talk 
 to me with any effect and replace your fatalism for 
 my faith! I'm not theorizing now, for I know! 
 
 204 
 
Threatened with Crucifixion 205 
 
 I know that an unseen Friend held my life in those 
 awful moments and overruled the designs of those 
 inhuman officials. I admit that I was scared — 
 scared stiff — and yet, at the same time, never did 
 I become confused mentally; not once did I make 
 a single conflicting statement, nor in any way give 
 those inquisitors any ground whatever for confirm- 
 ing their suspicions. If I had made a single break, 
 or even become excited, or protested innocence, or 
 appealed to the American diplomats, or anything 
 of the kind, the effect would have been very bad 
 for me. I simply let those hell-hounds go to it and 
 do their worst, and as God is in heaven I believe 
 to this day that my cool bearing and mental com- 
 posure had a tremendous influence with them. To 
 speak United States, " it got their goat." If you 
 quail before a German, or show fear, he's got you. 
 
 And when as a last resort they threatened me 
 with the most awful punishment that is conceiv- 
 able, I still stood firm. They said I would tell 
 what I knew or they would know the reason why. 
 
 A big, burly brute then took me out into a big 
 court-yard and showed me a fence which had a 
 cross painted on it. As we stepped out the back 
 door, four soldiers were lined up out there with 
 their rifles and gleaming bayonets. Another man 
 
2o6 ''Back From Hell'' 
 
 had a hatchet in his hand and a pan of short 
 spikes. 
 
 The detective who brought me out then told me 
 in a confidential tone that if I did not make a clean 
 sweep of the whole affair and tell them my mission 
 and my activities in that country they were going 
 to crucify me at once. I believe I flushed red, 
 but not from fright. Anger such as I never want 
 to return to my poor soul seized hold of me as I 
 shouted into his teeth, " You can crucify me, sir, 
 but you can only make yourself a criminal, not 
 me; God help you I " 
 
 There was a moment^s silence. Then, " Bring 
 him in," the man said quietly to the soldiers, and 
 I was taken into the room where I had been be- 
 fore. I now felt a little more confidence, for I felt 
 that I had cowed them down and thereafter they 
 did not seem to be quite so cold and arrogant. But 
 I was put into the hands of a different man. They 
 have such a wonderful system of dodging respon- 
 sibility and of passing you over to other people. 
 I do not believe that cowardly cur dared to deal 
 with me any longer and I never saw him again. I 
 was now given over to Laubenthal, a very tall, 
 business-like fellow, who seemed to have great au- 
 thority. He asked me many more questions, writ- 
 
Threatened with Crucifixion 207 
 
 ing down the answers and seeming to put In his 
 own ideas, and then he told me to sign the paper, 
 which was several pages long. He said it was 
 simply my own story, and like a fool, I wrote my 
 name to it, before I really knew what it was I was 
 signing. 
 
 Later, when I thought what it might be, I 
 trembled. It might have been my death warrant! 
 
 Over an hour passed, not much was said for a 
 time. I was in the same room where Edith Ca- 
 vell was sentenced and out of which she was taken 
 through the back door, lined up against a blank 
 wall and shot. Presently, at an ominous moment, 
 Laubenthal stepped over to the wall and took 
 down a white cloth. Holding it dangling conspicu- 
 ously by the corner he started over toward my 
 chair. My spine went ice. I thought he was going 
 to tie it about my eyes and I was going to be taken 
 out the back door and stood up against the blank 
 wall. All my former sins came back. I faced eter- 
 nity. It was an awful moment, but quickly passing 
 from the sublime to the ridiculous, do you know I 
 never realized before what a difference there is in 
 the way a man can carry a rag I If he had taken it 
 by the middle, as any decent, sane man would do, I 
 might have thought he was going to do what I be- 
 
2o8 ''Back From Heir 
 
 lieve he eventually did, wash his hands and use it 
 as a towel. Holding it by that corner, however, 
 looked too suspicious for me. It was an innocent 
 rag, but he carried it in a funny way, and without 
 joking, I will say that I have had a wholesome re- 
 spect for a rag ever since. I now believe he was 
 purposely trying to scare me. Well, if he was, he 
 certainly succeeded. Von Bissing then came in 
 and gave me a ten minute curtain lecture which was 
 anything but pleasant. After a time, however, 
 evidently deciding that there was no case against 
 me, Laubenthal went to the telephone and had a 
 conversation in German. I heard him mention my 
 name, but I did not know whether it meant release 
 or execution, and there is quite a difference. Soon 
 he called over to me and asked me if I was ready 
 to leave that day. Like a flash I said, "Yes, sir; 
 yes, sir.'* I had been ready for several days. He 
 gave me a permit, saying, " Get out on the seven 
 o'clock train tonight and don't come back." Well, 
 I've been in the habit of missing trains all my life, 
 but I was at that depot at six o'clock. I wouldn't 
 have missed that train for all the iron crosses in 
 the Kaiser's foundry. I got out. That is, I 
 started for Holland. 
 
 However, I was pulled off the train by a husky 
 
Threatened with Crucifixion 209 
 
 German soldier at the first stop this side of the 
 Holland border, about two miles from the line, 
 and told that my papers were not in order and I 
 would be compelled to go back again to Brussels 
 and get them changed. 
 
 Now, Laubenthal had told me not to come 
 back. I knew he meant it, too. And I didn't in- 
 tend to go back — not that soon. 
 
CHAPTER XXXVII 
 
 MY ESCAPE AND RETURN TO GOOD OLD FRANCE 
 
 CONSEQUENTLY while I started back 
 toward Brussels, that night under cover of 
 'darkness I soon wheeled around and made for the 
 Holland border — alone — on foot. Part of the 
 way I crept on all fours. Sometimes I was com- 
 pelled because of the barbed-wire entanglement, 
 to crawl on my stomach. I went through mud and 
 water and clambered over stones. Suddenly I 
 heard two German sentries apparently arguing. 
 Finally one let loose with an automatic and winged 
 me in the leg. Although I twitched I never whimp- 
 ered and kept crawling on. At last the two miles 
 were traversed and I found myself in Holland. 
 The first Dutchman I saw (and please don't mis- 
 take a Dutchman for a German) I will always re- 
 member. He was coming toward me with a lan- 
 tern, and when he heard me he called out to know 
 who it was. I answered "An American." He 
 then came smiling toward me and greeted me with 
 a hearty handshake, but I was laughing through 
 
Return to Good Old France 2111 
 
 tears. I slapped him on the shoulder and ex- 
 claimed, "Say, old top, you're the first human be- 
 ing I've seen for many weeks. I have been in the 
 hands of those cursed German brutes and they 
 made life fearful for me." Of course he didn't 
 know what " old top " meant but I didn't care any- 
 way. He bandaged up my slight wound and sent 
 me on my way. I was now mad at the Huns, and 
 good and mad, but I was on my way to France. I 
 was in the hands of sympathetic friends instead of 
 hardened foes and I was happy in spite of my 
 anger. I had seen Belgium and had obtained the 
 evidence. Whereas before I had jerked off my 
 frock coat and then later had shed my vest and 
 gritted my teeth, I now began rolling up my sleeves 
 for the Allies. Righteous indignation took the 
 upper hand of pacifism. When I went back to 
 The Hague and told Dr. Van Dyke my story, he 
 was astonished. I did not tell it all, but related 
 enough to considerably startle him. 
 
 I had slipped by the consuls, had seen Belgium, 
 had finally escaped, and was now to be passed on 
 to England. I had no further difficulties, and in 
 two days was off for Tilbury Docks. When I got 
 there I was taken aside and searched, but there 
 was none of that terrorism about it which the 
 
212 ''Back From Heir 
 
 Germans had used. They had searched me thor- 
 oughly thirteen times. 
 
 The English officers asked me several leading 
 questions, whether I had seen any movement of 
 troops and what was the food condition, etc. As 
 I did not have any particular military informa- 
 tion, I was soon dismissed and got my pass to 
 France. 
 
 I now went down to the railway station and 
 got my uniform where I had checked it. When I 
 crossed the channel and went into France I had 
 a funny experience. I went up to the railroad ticket 
 office and asked for a special rate ticket to Paris 
 (one-fourth fare). The woman asked, "Have you 
 papers to show that you are military?" I said, 
 " No, Madame, I have none with me.'* And I was 
 having an awful time with my French. Just then 
 young Du Boucher stepped up to the window. He 
 was an old friend from Paris, and he looked good 
 to me. He had just come from Etaples and spoke 
 perfect French and perfect English. Besides, 
 he was a good fellow. His father was one of 
 the main surgeons and founder of our hospital 
 In Neuilly. But with all that, we could not per- 
 suade the woman to give me a military ticket. She 
 said to come back later and see the officer. Then 
 
Return to Good Old France 213 
 
 Du Boucher said he would stay with me and see 
 me through. When we went back we found a 
 grouchy officer. We asked him for a military 
 pass. When he asked for our papers I gave him 
 my " leave of absence." He looked at it and said, 
 " My dear sir, you are a deserter. This paper 
 gives you ten days' leave and you have been gone 
 much longer. You must come back and see the 
 colonel at eight oVlock.'* 
 
 I told him my train would go to Paris at seven- 
 thirty. He didn't hear me at all. He said, " This 
 is very serious, and you must see the colonel." I 
 then told him I wasn't really military, don't you 
 know, as the ambulance service was in reality neu- 
 tral, so I was not a deserter. " Oh, I see," said 
 he. "You're not really military, and why then 
 are you attempting to buy a military ticket? This 
 is still more serious. You must see the colonel." 
 
 I was scared green. 
 
 However, when we came back to see the 
 colonel we found a very affable human man, who 
 said he couldn't do anything for us about a special 
 ticket if we had no papers to show that we were 
 entitled to it, but that we could go to the window 
 and make a try at getting it. Again we did so. A 
 different agent was at the window, and we went 
 
214 ''Back From Hell'' 
 
 up and asked him for such a ticket. He handed 
 it out without a question. 
 
 For the next two minutes I can tell you we did 
 some laughing. We were compelled to stay over 
 night, but at any rate I did not have to face court- 
 martial as a deserter, and in the morning I was In 
 Paris. There Is nothing like having a fluent 
 speaker of French with you in France, especially 
 when you are In trouble. I was now back again in 
 the good old country. Dear old France, how 
 good It looked! My heart had been changed and 
 I now immediately went into action again, under 
 the colors of France. The fighting had been very 
 heavy and some terrible scenes were shortly to be 
 witnessed. Hundreds of men were now literally 
 ground to pieces on the Western front. 
 
CHAPTER XXXVIII 
 
 NO man's land 
 
 IN THE French Army, now, I had a different 
 standing than at first. Our unit in its entirety 
 was taken over and we became brancardiers, or 
 stretcher bearers, in the Second Army of France. 
 Accordingly we were quartered in the army bar- 
 racks. For some time after I got back from Bel- 
 gium there were days of blood and thunder as a 
 fearful offensive had been launched by the German?. 
 An entire change of heart had now come over 
 me. I who had been a kind of peaceful milk and 
 water ecclesiastical pacifist to now stand beside 
 the boys with the guns and even sleep with the 
 poilus whose main object is to kill Germans, and 
 approve of it, was unusual to say the least, and I 
 thought it would shock some of the deacons back 
 in my tranquil church at home. I was ready to 
 even risk a guess that some of my befrocked cleri- 
 cal friends would be surprised. But I figured that 
 when universal freedom was at stake, as I now 
 clearly saw it was, I could not afford to be a neu- 
 
2i6 "Back From Heir' 
 
 tral even though I was a Presbyterian preacher. I 
 could not resist my conscience. 
 
 As I look at it now, I wish they would put a num- 
 ber of these "conscientious objectors" into the 
 same kind of service. That experience was the 
 best thing that ever happened to me. I became 
 enthusiastic for the Allies and the war, and dead 
 against the Kaiser and his gang. 
 
 Soon after this I was dispatched to a certain 
 
 place near L for duty. I found a man who 
 
 had just been out on a wire-cutting expedition. As 
 I lifted him on to the stretcher he said, "Well, I 
 did it anyhow." Then with some effort he related 
 the following experience to me: 
 
 " When the order was given that we would go 
 *over the top' at three o'clock in the morning, 
 and take the Germans' first line trench, our boys 
 were ready. There was no *try to take It' nor 
 * attack it,' but * we will go over the top and take 
 It' There was a note of finality In the wording of 
 the order, which we well understood. Our lieuten- 
 ant then came down to our fire bay and asked who 
 would volunteer to go out at midnight and cut the 
 lanes. He was looking right at me, and said ' Vin- 
 cent, how about It?' I timidly replied, ^Fll go, 
 sir.' There was no way out. I am frank to con- 
 
No Man's Land 217 
 
 fess that after I got to thinking about it, my knees 
 began to shake. The more I thought, the worse 
 they got. I had given my word, though, and I 
 wouldn't be a quitter. I don't think there is any 
 yellow streak in me, but there is a lot of human 
 nature. I love life. I got to thinking of my past 
 and the words of Shakespeare ran in my mind, 
 * Conscience doth make cowards of us all.' I 
 wasn't scared, I was paralyzed. 
 
 " I realized what it meant that I had promised 
 to do. It meant that I was to climb up a scaling 
 ladder over our parapet, go out into the full ex- 
 posure of the enemy, crawl on my stomach slowly 
 — slowly again — an inch at a time — so slowly 
 that if a German saw me, he would not know I 
 was moving at all, and would suppose me dead. 
 I must cover the distance between our parapet 
 and our entanglement, which was perhaps a dozen 
 yards, with a tripping wire in between, then noise- 
 lessly cut a lane through twenty feet of knotted 
 and gnarled barbed wire, fastening It back so that 
 it could not curl up and entangle our men as they 
 rushed through. Then I must creep and crawl on 
 my stomach, hugging the ground until I got back 
 and slid into our trench. If I were seen, it was 
 all day with me. I'd go to Blighty — for good. 
 
2i8 ''Back From Heir 
 
 "Well, twelve o'clock came around — all too 
 soon. I went. When I had cut my first wire, a 
 German star shell fell, lighting up the barbed- 
 wire entanglement for rods around. Luckily for 
 me it fell short of the parallel in which I was, to 
 the trenches. If it had fallen back of me, it 
 would have thrown my body into bold relief." 
 
 For the readers' benefit be it said that a star 
 shell is something like a sky rocket or a roman 
 candle. It is sent up into the air and falls to the 
 ground, lighting up everything around it. The 
 purpose of it is to betray any action of the enemy 
 in No Man's Land. Obviously, if it falls short, 
 it blinds the sender to what is going on beyond it, 
 just as a light in the window of a house will not 
 throw the objects in the room into view from the 
 outside, especially if the spectator is some distance 
 away. But objects can be plainly seen in the 
 room by a person across the street, if the light 
 is on the far side of the room. This is par- 
 ticularly true if the object should move. So with 
 the star shell. But it must frighten one at best 
 to be lying on his stomach and have the whole 
 world illuminated about him even if he is behind 
 the light. 
 
 In slower and lower tones the poilu continued: 
 
No Man's Land 219 
 
 *' I had just cut my last wire and folded It back 
 on the post — I don't think thirty seconds had 
 passed — when a star shell came down between 
 me and my own trench and glimmered away as 
 if it never would go out. It may have burned for 
 thirty seconds, but that thirty seconds seemed like 
 thirty years to me. 
 
 " I was less than forty yards from the German 
 trenches, and I believe within thirty yards of their 
 barbed wire. As that star shell came down, I had 
 my hand upon a post about a foot from the 
 ground. And as It was, I was really grasping the 
 barbed wire, wrapped around the post, and thus 
 assisting myself to crawl back to our trenches. 
 Although the wire was cutting my fingers fiercely, 
 I dared not let loose of that post, for fear the Ger- 
 mans would detect the motion and let me have it 
 hot and heavy. Just before the star shell burned 
 out, I distinctly heard some German voices. One 
 man said, * There, look there P Then the star 
 shell went out. Expecting another immediately, 
 I dared not move or withdraw my hand. It came. 
 Again I could hear those Germans talking, this 
 time arguing about me. Instead of shooting me, 
 and when that star shell went out, I pulled my- 
 self up by the aid of that post and ran as I never 
 
220 ''Back From Hell'' 
 
 ran in my life before. I believe I broke the 
 world's record. 
 
 "And then, at last, they began to shoot, and just 
 as I fell into our trenches, one of them caught me 
 here.'* His breathing was labored as he placed 
 his hand on his side. 
 
 "But somehow, when a fellow is out there — 
 alone — facing death in the solitude, it seems so 
 much worse than it is two hours later, when the 
 boys go * over the top,* dozens of them together, 
 with bayonets gleaming and with yelling and 
 shooting and barrage fire. It doesn't seem nearly 
 so bad in a crowd. I don't mean that the men like 
 it. No man ever likes to go * over the top,' but 
 there is a hypnotism when the crowd goes with you. 
 It is what the professors call mob psychology. It's 
 the thing that will make a man jump into a scrim- 
 mage on the football field eagerly, knowing that he 
 will get hurt, without thinking anything about it. 
 
 But I went alone. I'm all right but I feel " 
 
 Here his breath came hard. 
 
 " The charge was set for three o'clock. A fear- 
 ful bombardment was opened up. The barrage 
 fire was terrific. Word was finally passed along 
 from mouth to mouth, *ten minutes till we go 
 over the top!' All the while the bombardment 
 
No Mans Land 221 
 
 had been going on more fiercely and the firing 
 was let loose, the like of which was never seen 
 before. 
 
 "At last It was five minutes of three. The 
 * death ladders' were put in place, so the men 
 could scale the parapet, and at exactly three o'clock 
 the whistles blew a mighty blast. Up the boys 
 went like monkeys over a garden wall. The cur- 
 tain fire was thrust forward. Through the lanes 
 they went. Across No Man's Land they rushed, 
 and men were falling all about. At this moment 
 some of the Germans made a kind of counter- 
 charge, and a few got very near our trenches. One 
 big German was almost falling into our trench on 
 top of me, when I heard him yell at me. I could 
 not tell what he said, but as his mouth opened in 
 yelling, amazement and fear gripped me, for, like 
 the shiny tongue of a snake, there stuck out of his 
 mouth a long, glistening object. I thought he was 
 making faces at me. But only a second elapsed, 
 until his yell merged into a fiendish shriek and he 
 pitched toward me. One of our men had jammed 
 his bayonet through the big Boche from behind, 
 and it had come out of his mouth. It was the 
 last of him. I know our boys got there. But 
 it sure Is hell. But — it — is glorious I" I then 
 
222 ''Back From Hell'' 
 
 realized that he was weakening and when I 
 asked him if he was badly hurt he answered, " No 
 — not bad — I reckon — only — 'goin' West.'" 
 As the poor fellow spoke these last words his 
 breath was coming hard. Life was slowly ebbing 
 out and as I stood with his hand clasped in mine he 
 passed over the Great Divide. In solemn reflec- 
 tion I stood beside him for a moment. Yes, It was 
 glorious, In a way, yet for my part it sickened me. 
 I had had enough. I was fed up with the war and 
 I longed for rest. 
 
CHAPTER XXXIX 
 
 JEAN AND "fRENCHIE" 
 
 THAT rest was to come ere long — but not 
 Immediately. I had seen the tragedy and 
 horror of modern warfare but I was still to un- 
 dergo another heart-tearing ordeal. The boys 
 of a certain company were as handsome a lot as 
 ever donned a uniform. But some of the best of 
 them were marked men. Two of these fellows 
 whom I had come to consider as pals, got theirs 
 a few days later. The name of one was Jean, and 
 I couldn't pronounce the other, so I used to call 
 him " Frenchle." They were both fine, strapping 
 lads, larger than the average Frenchman and had 
 the pep of young Americans. Jean was twenty- 
 one and *' Frenchie " I suppose about twenty-five. 
 We used to have great times together trying to 
 understand each other and laughing over my mis- 
 takes in speaking French. Some of them were 
 worth laughing at, too. 
 
 On occasions I would sit and swap yarns with 
 them or would yield to their requests to tell them 
 
 aas 
 
224 ''Back From Heir' 
 
 all about the United States. We struck up an in- 
 timacy which was unusual, and it got so that we 
 sought each other's company whenever possible. 
 The boys used to ask me all kinds of questions 
 about New York and wanted to know how far out 
 Pike's Peak was from the metropolis. I had to 
 laugh at their conception of American geography 
 as much as they did at my conception of their lan- 
 guage. Many a pleasant hour we enjoyed to- 
 gether. 
 
 But alas I One Sunday afternoon a gas alarm 
 was suddenly sounded. All the men along the 
 trench began excitedly fumbling for their gas masks 
 and shouting to one another. That was the very 
 worst thing that they could do. Remaining cool 
 and keeping your mouth shut is the only possible 
 method of combating this awful weapon. You 
 must lose no time in shaking off your metal trench 
 helmet and getting the gas mask on and buttoned 
 tightly around your neck, but the way to save 
 time is to go about it cooly. Now *' Frenchie " 
 had become excited and couldn't find his mask. 
 It wasn't in his bag provided for the purpose. He 
 had lost it. In his excitement, instead of wetting 
 his handkerchief and tying it over his nose as a 
 temporary substitute, he began yelling at the other 
 
Jean and *' Frenchie^' 225 
 
 boys, asking them if they had seen It or If they 
 had an extra one. In doing this he had taken in 
 several breaths of the deadly fumes and was 
 quickly overcome. He was carried back Into the 
 receiving station and there he lay In agony. When 
 I got there two men were bending over him as he 
 lay upon the stretcher and with a fan and oxygen 
 tube, they were trying to assist him In getting 
 air Into his lungs. I went over and spoke to him, 
 but his eyes were closed and he could not answer. 
 For ten or fifteen minutes we worked with him, 
 but It seemed like eternity. As his eyelids twitched, 
 his throat contracted, and his nostrils distended In 
 the awful effort to get air; I thought I should faint 
 as I was forced to look upon his Indescribable suf- 
 fering. When once or twice I asked him some- 
 thing the agonizing efforts which he made to speak 
 to me were terrible to behold. I would rather die 
 myself than ever have to look on such a sight 
 again. Death Isn't hard to see and the sight of it 
 becomes commonplace on the battle line. But the 
 spectacle of a fellow-human going through the 
 slow agonies of the damned, in his vain attempts 
 to get air, is one which no mortal ought ever to be 
 called upon to undergo. 
 
 Of course I cannot know how much actual pain 
 
226 ''Back From Heir' 
 
 he felt, as it is possible that the gas deadened his 
 nerves and yet caused him to twitch in this awful 
 manner; but if poor "Frenchie'* suffered any 
 worse than I did in those few minutes, he is bet- 
 ter off dead than living. Finally he turned a blu- 
 ish green color and at last gave one great gulp 
 and died. It was with heavy hearts that we car- 
 ried him out and then I went back to the depot. 
 The Boches had made a terrific charge on about 
 a quarter of a mile front, but were repulsed with 
 very heavy losses. Naturally our brave boys 
 were exulting over the fact that they had stood 
 their ground and made the Germans quickly re- 
 treat, leaving numbers of their men upon the field. 
 I was not very jubilant, however, because the 
 thought of poor *' Frenchie " was still in my 
 mind. Then another shock came to me. I had 
 gone back to the depot only to find my other 
 comrade, Jean, lying on a piece of canvas on the 
 floor with a bandage around his head. His face 
 was turned away from me and a man was ad- 
 ministering temporary treatment. I asked him 
 what was the matter, and upon hearing my voice 
 Jean answered for himself. "Well, I guess I got 
 mine that time, but you can bet I gave a good ac- 
 count of myself first. It is all for La Belle France, 
 
Jean and '' Frenchie^' 227 
 
 anyway, and I am damn glad It happened I " He 
 became weak then, and didn't speak any more. As 
 soon as I got the chance, I asked the soldier stand- 
 ing by more particularly about the nature of the 
 wound and he said in a low and faltering voice : 
 *' Jean will recover all right, for his wound is not 
 fatal at all, but," and he broke down as he con- 
 tinued, "he'll never see light again. The poor 
 fellow has both eyes shot out.'* 
 
 An then he told me what a wonderful fight Jean 
 had put up first, accounting for four Germans in 
 hand-to-hand fighting. Poor Jean I He will 
 grope his way through life! But the thing that 
 impressed me most was his inner feeling, " It's all 
 for La Belle France, and I'm damn glad It hap- 
 pened!" 
 
 You can't whip a nation like that. 
 
CHAPTER XL 
 
 THE PSYCHOLOGY OF FRANCE 
 
 I HAD a sort of habit, when I had time off from 
 the work, or was "on my own," of some- 
 times going to the railroad stations of the dif- 
 ferent towns and more especially those of Paris. 
 A railroad station is an interesting place at any 
 time. It is an educational institution, for there 
 you find all classes of humanity coming and go- 
 ing, just as they are. It is where the ebb and flow 
 of the human tide of life is. 
 
 But I think in this time of war, especially, there 
 is no place which so well shows up the psychology 
 of the people as the railroad depot. Often have I 
 stood in those large Paris stations and watched 
 the people come and watched them go. The Gare 
 du Nord, the Gare du Lyons, and the Gare la 
 Chapelle are full of sentiment and pathos. 
 
 Once at the last named station I was standing 
 in the background in the shadow of a pillar, where 
 I was unobtrusive and unnoticed, and watched the 
 anxious people. Some of them were looking for 
 
 228 
 
The Psychology of France 229 
 
 their loved ones back on leave, and some of them 
 had come to see their loved ones leave, perhaps 
 forever I 
 
 I saw a young wife approach the gate with her 
 husband. The brave little woman had escorted 
 her mart to the station as he was leaving for 
 the trenches, to take his place there in the mud and 
 blood. And yet, as she stood there and talked to 
 him outside the gates, she was exceptionally merry 
 and vivacious. Then just as he went through the 
 gates to board the train, she kissed him and waved 
 him a cheery au revoir and stood smilingly, wav- 
 ing as he went out of sight. 
 
 And then — I saw that brave French woman 
 turn around, and, as she walked away or almost 
 stumbled away, become shaken with a paroxysm 
 of sobs and grief, as though the heart were 
 wrenched out of her breast. 
 
 How she did weep I 
 
 But she would not let her husband see it for 
 anything in the world, for she felt she must keep 
 him up so that he could fight the battle. That was 
 her bit for La Belle France. And I have seen 
 that same thing repeated very many times. 
 
 I have often watched strong men come into the 
 depots with their brothers who were going to the 
 
230 ''Back From Hell'' 
 
 trenches. And as they talked with those dear ones 
 who were going out to meet the foe, they would be 
 happy and buoyant in their manner, and as they 
 separated, they would kiss each other like young 
 lovers, with prolonged and passionate kisses, for 
 both realized that they might never meet again. 
 And the cheery au revoir which they waved to 
 each other meant "Till we meet again," probably 
 "over West." But they did not then show a 
 trace of sadness. The soldier would board his 
 train and the man who was left behind would 
 turn away, convulsed with weeping; but he 
 wouldn't let his brother see it. It was all for La 
 Belle France. 
 
 The soul of the French Is a wonderful thing. 
 They have a calm confidence that finally the in- 
 vader will be vanquished, and that confidence 
 goes a long way toward the goal. Not so many 
 years since, the French were looked upon by many 
 as being an enervated, effeminate people. I sup- 
 pose the tourists who visited Paris had taken their 
 impressions from a few of the men and women 
 whom they had observed in the cafes and public 
 places. At any rate, a great many Americans 
 thought that as a nation she was degenerating and 
 decaying, but France has proven to the world that 
 
The Psychology of France 231 
 
 such an impression is not true, and no one has 
 learned this lesson better than the German. To- 
 day I believe Germany respects France more 
 highly than any other of her enemies. This great 
 Republic has conducted through these years such 
 a remarkable war, and all the while kept up such 
 a magnificent spirit that she has placed herself in 
 the very front rank of the world's great powers. 
 The secret of it all is the wonderful psychological 
 attitude of the French people who go to make 
 up the country, and if America can demonstrate 
 a spirit which parallels it in the trying days to 
 come, it will bode well for the outcome of the war. 
 I am glad I went. My part, though humble, 
 in this great struggle for human freedom, has 
 done worlds for me, and I shall always rejoice 
 that I had that profound experience. Physically, 
 I overdid things, yet I wanted to do more. Every- 
 body does. I often took foolish chances as I now 
 see, but I am not sorry for it. I got little sleep 
 and insufficient food, but I was happy in my work. 
 Not infrequently as I worked I had realized the 
 danger, but I didn't seem to care. Forgetting 
 my own best interests, I guess I often did more 
 than I should have done. But these things can- 
 not last forever. The body wearies, the brain 
 
232 ''Back From Hell'' 
 
 tires, the nerves fatigue, there comes about a 
 physical condition when the members of the body 
 simply refuse to obey orders. Such a condition I 
 suppose had come upon me. For some time I had 
 felt it coming, but I still did not let up, though I 
 was working like a man in a dream. 
 
 At last, however, my nerves completely gave 
 way. I saw that I must give up the work entirely 
 and with great regret was forced to do so. I was 
 given my release and a military ticket, but I was 
 loath to leave the country which had opened my 
 eyes to the deeper values of life. The people that 
 I had met and the atmosphere in which I had 
 labored had brought a new meaning to the words 
 "Life" and "Liberty," and I felt I was better 
 fitted for my duty toward humanity. I had gained 
 a something over there which I never got before 
 in all the years of my academic education and a 
 strange emotion tugged at my heart at the thought 
 of leaving France. I vowed that if possibility pre- 
 sented itself I would return again to help the 
 poilus. 
 
o 
 
 CHAPTER XLI 
 
 THE CONTAGIOUS SPIRIT OF SACRIFICE 
 
 UT there on the Western front a marvelous 
 spirit seems to have possession of the peo- 
 ple. I doubt if the world ever saw such a close 
 and intimate communion of millions upon millions 
 of men banded together for one mighty purpose, 
 namely, the preservation of Liberty on the earth. 
 Men endure suffering and women undergo hard- 
 ships such as they never dreamed to be possible. 
 In every age Liberty has had its champions and 
 morality its martyrs, but there never was a time 
 when such hosts of crusaders from every corner 
 of the world with one accord marched forth to 
 sacrifice for a common cause. Men seem to vie 
 with one another as to who can do the most. Hard- 
 ship IS accepted with a jest. Women with sleepless 
 eyes watch over sufferers on beds of pain, never 
 thinking of self but rather losing themselves in 
 the great purpose for which it is all endured. They 
 seem to have a vision which is almost superhuman. 
 Most of us can see only today and its security and 
 
 233 
 
234 ''Back From Hell'' 
 
 happiness; but these messengers are looking to the 
 welfare of their children's children to the third and 
 fourth generation. To them the general good of 
 Humanity looms up and eclipses all considerations 
 of personal comfort or convenience. And so they 
 keep on toiling and enduring through the months. 
 
 At one time when I was in a hospital I made my 
 way down to a room where the ladies were serving 
 four o'clock tea. I arrived just a few moments too 
 late, and much to my chagrin the ladies were clear- 
 ing away the dishes. I saw a woman carrying a 
 plate full of cakes — all that were left — out of 
 the room and up to the wounded soldiers above. 
 I stopped her, jokingly, saying, *' I'm going to steal 
 one of those cakes. I came late." She graciously 
 held the plate out to me while I helped myself, 
 saying as she did so, "You boys deserve them if 
 anybody does. We can't do enough for you." 
 
 A moment later she stepped out, and I said to 
 the lady who handed me a cup of tea, ** I almost 
 lost my cake today as I was late. What is the 
 woman's name who took the plate upstairs ? " Her 
 answer stunned me. "That's Mrs. Vanderbilt," 
 she said modestly. 
 
 And then I began to think. What was Mrs. 
 Vanderbilt doing over there working In a hospital? 
 
Contagious Spirit of Sacrifice 235 
 
 What are all the Influential and wealthy people 
 doing now, to lighten the burden and help the 
 cause? There Is certainly a sympathy between 
 the high and low which was never known before 
 anywhere In the world. 
 
 This day as I sat there, I suppose with a rather 
 serious expression on my face, a nurse put in her 
 appearance. "Why, my friend," she said, "what 
 makes you look so sober?" "Oh, nothing," I 
 said, and tried to smile. "Yes, but there Is and 
 you must tell me," she persisted. " I was think- 
 ing about America's pacifists," I answered. " I 
 used to be one myself, but I now see that they are 
 injuring the cause that these brave fellows are dy- 
 ing for, and they ought to be severely punished. 
 My own effectiveness Is hampered and has become 
 insignificant because of my former attitude, but 
 from now on I am going to stand up for the fight- 
 ing soldier every time." 
 
 "Your Idea is right," answered the nurse. 
 "The pacifists back in the States who have been 
 objecting to the government's policy and who 
 have dodged and evaded their duty, ought to be 
 put In jail. But," and she emphasized her state- 
 ment with her Index finger, " you are a bit hard on 
 yourself, I think, and your work Is not Inslgnifi- 
 
236 ''Back From Hell'' 
 
 cant. You have tried to do your little bit here to 
 atone for having been a pacifist and now It Is 
 possible that you may do much in the States by 
 your voice and pen to rouse the people of America 
 to their patriotic duty. You may teach them many 
 lessons." 
 
 "I myself have learned one great lesson over 
 here," I said. " I have learned that In order to 
 find happiness one must lose himself. He must 
 give up himself In a worthy cause." 
 
 "I understand," replied the nurse. "I can 
 see that you have become imbued with the spirit 
 of sacrifice which seems contagious here in this 
 land. Everybody has It." 
 
 *' Well, I don't know about that," I said, "but 
 whatever you may say, I do know this: I know 
 that those poor fellows out there in the mud have 
 given all they've got to make the world safe from 
 Germany, and we ought to do the same. The one 
 who Is a pacifist now, is a slacker, a traitor, and in 
 reality, a murderer. He is prolonging the war 
 and thus sacrificing additional lives. I know that 
 the Man who gave His life on the cruel cross, two 
 thousand years ago, gave it for liberty, the same 
 as these soldiers are doing today, and when I read 
 in the American papers now and then of some of 
 
Contagious Spirit of Sacrifice 237 
 
 the obstructionists in our own country, who are 
 railing at the President and scoffing at what is 
 being done to prepare our army, I can't express 
 myself.'' 
 
 *' You must be patient though," she said, "for 
 such men will come to their deserts, and I am 
 so glad that I have had the pleasure of know- 
 ing you, and as you take your departure, I want 
 you to know that I shall always remember you in 
 the first capacity in which I knew you, as an am- 
 bulance worker, and because of your activity in 
 saving lives — for that above all is the one thing 
 I am interested In." 
 
CHAPTER XLII 
 
 THE HERITAGE OF HATE 
 
 THE blackest aspect of the sin which Ger- 
 many has committed In this war Is not 
 to be found in the ruined churches and the dev- 
 astated homes. The vandalistic crime which 
 asserted itself In destroying school-houses and 
 libraries and works of art, in desolating the fields 
 and laying low the country, sinks into the back- 
 ground when compared with the wickedness of 
 sowing that heritage of hate In untold millions of 
 hearts — a hate which will endure and bear fruit 
 against her long after the present conflict has 
 passed into history. 
 
 Ernest Lissauer, in his well-known "hymn" 
 expressed the venom and hatred of Germany for 
 those of other nations who do not concede her the 
 right of world conquest, and was decorated for it 
 by the Emperor. And although an attempt was 
 made to suppress the hymn after the Germans 
 realized its detriment to themselves the seed had 
 been sown far and wide and could not be recalled. 
 
 238 
 
The Heritage of Hate 239 
 
 Germany had spread race hatred in the world, and 
 that is the greatest barrier there is to human 
 progress. 
 
 Universal brotherhood for which Jesus lived and 
 died, and for which the noblest men have always 
 lived, has been turned back a thousand yedrs by 
 Germany, and that is her great crime. That is the 
 accusation for which her military leaders will have 
 to answer before the bar of God on the solemn 
 Judgment Day. She sowed to the wind and she 
 reaps the whirlwind. Not only has she stirred up 
 bitterness and hate in the breasts of her own peo- 
 ple, but by her foul deeds, the offspring of that 
 hatred, she has planted a hate in the very beings 
 and natures of the people of her enemy countries 
 which almost equals it. In the earlier days of the 
 war it was occasionally said that there was no 
 hatred between the opposing soldiers and that the 
 people of the conquered territories often frater- 
 nized with the German invaders. It was a lie. Al- 
 though the men of France and Belgium were very 
 scarce in the towns and cities, because most of them 
 had gone to the trenches, and although the women 
 were perhaps lonesome for companionship, yet 
 woe be to that insulting German soldier who at- 
 tempted to converse or walk with a French girl on 
 
240 ''£iack From Hell'' 
 
 the street, for he would receive such a withering 
 look and answer as would make the blood run cold 
 in any man with an ounce of self-respect. The girls 
 of the conquered countries today would rather 
 play with serpents than hold any kind of conversa- 
 tion or have any social intercourse with the haughty 
 invaders. 
 
 In the beginning they tried to force their ob- 
 noxious attentions on the women; but they soon 
 learned better and in the regions which they arro- 
 gantly possess today the German soldiers are the 
 most shunned and lonely people that ever lived. 
 Little babes just learning to talk are schooled to 
 hate the Germans. Many a time I have seen 
 young mothers with painstaking care drilling the 
 little ones to lisp vengeance upon their enemy. In- 
 stead of the affectionate terms of "papa" and 
 "mamma'' which all nationalities first teach the 
 infant the outraged inhabitants pronounce the 
 words Les Allemands Boche, and The Kaiser 
 Kaput, "The Germans are contemptible" and 
 " Cut the head off the Kaiser." 
 
 No man need tell me that this universal feeling 
 will soon die away and that when peace comes 
 about normal relations will soon be restored. It is 
 not human nature. Like the snake in the garden 
 
 I 
 
The Heritage of Hate 241 
 
 of Eden which brought the hatred of the race upon 
 Itself so that evermore " the heel of mankind shall 
 crush the serpent's head," so has Germany brought 
 down the maledictions of the human race upon 
 her head, so that for a long time to come the hand 
 of every man will be against her. This is the sad 
 part of it all and this is the crime for which Ger- 
 many will yet give account. I heard one soldier, 
 who had had more than ordinary experience with 
 their method of atrocity, say: "I'd like to have 
 every man, woman, and child in Germany killed 
 without mercy and I'd like to be there with the 
 bayonet to finish up the job I " 
 
 I maintain that if God be just, not that man, 
 but his enemy who drove him to that attitude will 
 be held to account for his fearful hatred. When 
 history is written and when Germany, instead of 
 profiting by her sin, shall be eating the bitter fruits 
 of her own unrighteousness then shall the Scrip- 
 ture be fulfilled in her ears, "Ye cannot gather 
 grapes of thorns nor figs of thistles." "The way 
 of the transgressor is hard," and " In like manner 
 as ye sow, so shall ye reap, full measure, heaped 
 up, shaken together, running over." 
 
 It is not merely a penalty placed by the Allied 
 nations upon an offending country. It is not 
 
242 ''Back From Hell'' 
 
 simply that we shall say we will "get even with 
 her " and will take revenge for all her Inhuman out- 
 rages, but It Is that the immutable fiat of God goes 
 forth, and that the one who flings himself against 
 that great law shall pay to the uttermost farthing. 
 
CHAPTER XLIII 
 
 MY FISTS are now clinched I I am fighting 
 ^ow. My experience as I have here given 
 It, drives me to this inevitable conclusion. Ger- 
 many, as she now is organized, cannot be tolerated 
 in a modern world. She must be vanquished! 
 Bloodshed is not the worst thing in life. The 
 slaughter of the men who are enslaving and killing 
 millions is today a Christian duty, so help me God I 
 To me has come the Great Awakening. I have 
 surrendered myself to Him. America, the strong- 
 est democracy of history, has undertaken to fight 
 and defeat the Kaiser. Every man, woman, and 
 child in this nation must be mobilized in order to 
 guarantee this outcome. In this supreme, vital 
 hour, the pacifist and the slacker shall suffer the 
 damnation of hell! Fighters are patriots — paci- 
 fists are traitors. The whole nation must undergo 
 a rigid system of preparedness to accomplish this 
 great task of safe-guarding our own and the 
 world's liberties, and further than that, to make a 
 
 243 
 
244 ^Back From Hell*' 
 
 more stalwart citizenship than we now possess. 
 We need a more robust young manhood than we 
 have. We are living in the greatest Republic the 
 world ever saw. We have more liberty than any 
 land on earth — more than some people know how 
 to use sensibly. But " eternal vigilance is the price 
 of liberty," therefore, my people, arouse ! I plead, 
 and get behind the government with every ounce 
 of energy and support that you can muster. Buy 
 Liberty Bonds, give to the Red Cross, conserve 
 the food, encourage the drafted men, enlist your- 
 self in some branch of the Service and Help to 
 Win This War! If you can't go, remember this: 
 You must equip the brave fellows who do go. As 
 my friend said to me, " None of us must think his 
 part insignificant." 
 
 Out there, it Is a fact that the spirit of sacrifice 
 is contagious. No man counts his life dear to 
 himself. It must become so here. Every shoulder 
 is required at the wheel, as our foe is a monstrous 
 one. 
 
 I labor under no delusions as to the weakness 
 of the enemy. Germany is still powerful and will 
 fight with the desperation of an animal that Is cor- 
 nered, and we must prepare for a long, hard battle. 
 Universal Service today Is the one thing which Is 
 
''Back From Heir' 245 
 
 saving America and civilization. Always remem- 
 ber that. And our youths need it to make men of 
 them mentally and physically. Our boys need it 
 for their own good and the good of the future. 
 It is a preparation for life that we need in 
 America and with it we will be prepared for 
 anything. 
 
 We have had perhaps too much liberty in our 
 land, and it has often made boys a lawless, care- 
 less, disrespectful, slouchy crowd, thinking only of 
 what they can get out of life and not of what they 
 can give in the way of service. These are not my 
 personal opinions. They are well-known facts and 
 the highest army officers have bitterly complained 
 of them. Even the father who is against Universal 
 Service will admit their truth. The boys of 
 America need to learn courtesy, obedience, re- 
 spect, efficiency. Their hearts are right and the 
 present fault is not entirely their own. They have 
 not been disciplined. Let us now be wise. 
 
 I am closing up my little book. Fm back from 
 hell. Back from the hell made by the Kaiser and 
 his German hordes in Europe. But also, and more 
 significantly, back from the hell of pacifism, when 
 God is crying, ** Militancy, my son I " Back from 
 the hell which says, " Sleep on, thou sluggard, in 
 
246 ''Back From Heir' 
 
 thy peace and cowardice, while God, and the other 
 nations are awake and doing, against the wicked 
 adversary." Back from the hell which whispers, 
 *'Lose thy soul, but save thy skin." Back from 
 the hell in which men like David Starr Jordan and 
 Mr. Bryan and my humble self have been. Paci- 
 fism is hell, when heaven challenges the soul to 
 fight. So I am going to fight. I have found my 
 soul through war. I'm a saved man. I'm happy 
 at last and I am going to preach it now. I am go- 
 ing to speak and write as long as I have power, 
 to help America win the war primarily, and then 
 to help make America a better country by making 
 her people better citizens, and thus help to make 
 this place we live in a better world. 
 
 We must fear God and down the Kaiser. And 
 I do not know of any more fitting words that 
 could be used in closing up this little war message 
 to the American people, from a common, humble 
 helper, than those of our great National Anthem : 
 
 Then conquer we must, for our cause it is just, 
 And this be our motto: — "/« God Is Our Trust. ^* 
 The star-spangled banner in triumph shall wave 
 O'er the land of the free, and the home of the 
 brave. 
 
''Back From Hell" 247 
 
 And may the ideals of that flag and the flags 
 of our noble Allies guide the destinies of the 
 world, and Christ again become the guide of 
 human life and Prussianistic Militarism be speed- 
 ily ground to powder. 
 
 No true social order can be erected upon a false 
 foundation. Autocracy is false, pernicious, and 
 rotten from top to bottom. Therefore it must be 
 annihilated root and branch before the peoples of 
 the earth can find freedom and happiness. The 
 old structure must be entirely torn down and the 
 social order built on a new foundation. 
 
 The United States has consecrated herself to 
 this task. Stupendous as It is, she can accomplish 
 it. France has done her part, Britain has per- 
 formed her duty, but France and Britain today are 
 calling to us. Not In any spirit of boastfulness 
 therefore, but In a spirit of deep humility coupled 
 with a determined confidence must we respond to 
 their urgent plea. We must go, we must give, 
 we must sacrifice. If America Is to save the situa- 
 tion, as I believe she Is, she must know-before- 
 hand that it will be at a price such as she has never 
 paid before. Widows will pine and daughters 
 will mourn. Rachel will weep In the midnight for 
 
248 ''Back From Hell'' 
 
 her sons because they are not and orphans will 
 cry themselves to sleep. But out of the blackness 
 the consolation which comes to me is that through 
 it all we will find our soul and we v/ill obey the 
 summons of a just and righteous God. To do less 
 were craven. 
 
 America, like other nations, may sometime go 
 down. When we have accomplished our mission 
 we too may pass off the stage of action. But, 
 please God, when the names shall be called from 
 the great Book of Life and the records of the 
 nations now gone, shall be read, lack of vision and 
 failure in duty shall not be charged against Amer- 
 ica; and, In the new and better world, America's 
 part in making possible the higher order of things 
 shall be recognized and acknowledged. 
 
 Every man has his duty. Every woman her 
 sphere. There is nothing worth living for In the 
 present hour but to assist In defeating Germany. 
 And let me sound a warning here and now, loud 
 and clear, that the person who Is found unwilling 
 or Inactive In the accomplishment of this one goal 
 will sooner or later feel the bitterness of what it 
 is to be " a man without a country." He will come 
 to hate himself. 
 
 On the other hand, he who does his part, who 
 
 _ 
 
'' Back From Heir' 249 
 
 gives himself unstintedly in this hour of the world's 
 woe, and who does not calculate the personal cost, 
 will have the boundless and undying gratitude of 
 future ages. These will have a part in the greatest 
 humanizing and redemptive work since earth be- 
 gan and "the generations shall rise up and call 
 them blessed.'* They also will be able to boast the 
 honor of having been true Americans. 
 
 As for myself, I know not what the future holds. 
 My personal fortunes are in the hands of God and 
 my country. The pastorate which I resigned has. 
 been filled by another. 
 
 But I do know this: that I have been used in 
 the great cause of democracy in a hundred times 
 larger way than I ever was before or ever could 
 have been, had I not gone to the war and been 
 converted to militant justice. I am hoping to go 
 back again, but in the meantime the government 
 has been using my humble services in a way which 
 is most gratifying to me. I have traveled from 
 one end of the continent to the other delivering 
 lectures to American citizens and trying to rouse 
 them to their duty. I have probably spoken to a 
 million people, and I hope this book, with the same 
 object in view, may reach as many more. And the 
 people have been most kind to me. In places like 
 
2^0 ''Back From Hell'' 
 
 Tremont Temple, Boston; Carnegie Hall, New 
 York; and Orchestra Hall, Chicago, audiences of 
 thousands have given me memorable ovations. 
 And when I spoke for Dr. HIllIs, In Henry Ward 
 Beecher's old church, the congregation applauded 
 to the echo, even though It was the Sabbath day. 
 And all I ask for the future Is that my life may 
 be worn out for God and my country. Au Revoirf 
 
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