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Gibbs, Philip, 1877-1962

"Now It Can Be Told"

They were eating
strawberries, and seemed at peace. I spoke to one of them.
"Wie befinden sie sich?"
"Ganz wohl; wir sind zufrieden mit unsere behandlung."
I passed through the shell-shock wards and a yard where the "shell-
shocks" sat about, dumb, or making queer, foolish noises, or staring
with a look of animal fear in their eyes. From a padded room came a
sound of singing. Some idiot of war was singing between bursts of
laughter. It all seemed so funny to him, that war, so mad!
"We are clearing them out," said the medical officer. "There will be
many more soon."
How soon? That was a question nobody could answer. It was the only
secret, and even that was known in London, where little ladies in
society were naming the date, "in confidence," to men who were
directly concerned with it--having, as they knew, only a few more
weeks, or days, of certain life. But I believe there were not many
officers who would have surrendered deliberately all share in "The
Great Push.


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