These men had already
seen what shellfire could do to knock the beauty out of old houses and
quiet streets. They had gone tramping through one or two villages to
which the enemy's guns had turned their attention, and had received
that unforgetable sensation of one's first sight of roofless cottages,
and great gaps in garden walls, and tall houses which have tumbled
inside themselves. But now they saw this destruction in the process,
and stood very still, listening to the infernal clatter as shells
burst at the other end of the street, tumbling down huge masses of
masonry and plugging holes into neat cottages, and tearing great
gashes out of red-brick walls.
"Funny business!" said one of the boys.
"Regular Drury Lane melodrama," said another.
"Looks as if some of us wouldn't be home in time for lunch," was
another comment, greeted by a guffaw along the line.
They tried to see the humor of it, though there was a false note in
some of the jokes. But it was the heroic falsity of boys whose pride
is stronger than their fear, that inevitable fear which chills one
when this beastliness is being done.
Pages:
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149