by William March
We were
returning from a wiring party that quiet night and the men were in high
spirits. Then two Maxims opened a
deadly, enfilading fire, and one of my companions threw up his hands and fell
without a sound. I stood there confused
at the sudden attack, not knowing which way to turn. Then I heard someone shout:
"Look out! Look out for the
wire!" and I saw my companions, flat on their frightened bellies,
scattering in all directions. I started
to run, but at that moment something shoved me, and something took my breath
away, and I toppled backward, and the wire caught me.
At first I did
not realize that I was wounded. I lay
there on the wire, breathing heavily.
"I must keep perfectly calm," I thought. "If I move about, I'll entangle myself
so badly that I'll never get out."
Then a white flare went up and in the light that followed I saw my belly
was ripped open and that my entrails hung down like a badly arranged bouquet of
blue roses. The sight frightened me and
I began to struggle, but the more I twisted about, the deeper the barbs sank
in. Finally I could not move my legs
anymore and I knew, then, that I was going to die. So I lay stretched quietly, moaning and spitting blood.
I could not
forget the faces of the men and the way they had scurried off when the machine
guns opened up. I remembered a time
when I was a little boy and had gone to visit my grandfather, who lived on a
farm. Rabbits were eating his cabbages
that year, so grandfather had closed all the entrances to his field except one,
and he baited that one with lettuce leaves and young carrots. When the field was full of rabbits, the fun
began. Grandfather opened the gate and
let in the dog, and the hired man stood at the gap, a broomstick in his hand,
breaking the necks of the rabbits as they leaped out. I had stood to on side, I remembered, pitying the rabbits and
thinking how stupid they were to let themselves be caught in such an obvious
trap. —And now as I lay on the wire, the scene came back to me vividly … I
had pitied the rabbits — I, of all people…
I lay back, my
eyes closed, thinking of that. Then I
heard the mayor of our town making his annual address in the Soldiers’ Cemetery
at home. Fragments of his speech kept
floating through my mind: “These men
died gloriously on the Field of Honor!
… Gave their lives gladly in a Noble Cause! … What a feeling of exaltation was theirs when Death kissed their
mouths and closed their eyes for an Immortal Eternity! …” Suddenly I saw myself, too, a boy in the
crowd, my throat tight to keep back the tears, listening enraptured to the
speech and believing every word of it; and at that instant I understood clearly
why I now lay dying on the wire …
The first shock
had passed and my wounds began to pain me.
I had seen other men die on the wire and I had said if it happened to
me, I would make no sound, but after a while I couldn’t stand the pain any
longer and I began to make a shrill, wavering noise. I cried like that for a long time. I couldn’t help it …
Towards daybreak
a German sentry crawled out from his post and came to where I lay. “Hush!” he said in a soft voice. “Hush, please!”
He sat on his
haunches and stared at me, a compassionate look in his eyes. Then I began to talk to him: “It’s all a lie that people tell each other,
and nobody really believes,” I said …
“And I’m a part of it, whether I want to be or not. —I’m more a part of
it now than ever before: In a few
years, when war is over, they’ll move my body back home to the Soldiers’
Cemetery, just as they moved the bodies of the soldiers killed before I was
born. There will be a brass band and
speech making and a beautiful marble shaft with my name chiseled on its base … The Mayor will be there also, pointing to my
name with his thick, trembling forefinger and shouting meaningless words about
glorious deaths and fields of honor …
And there will be other little boys in that crowd to listen and believe
him, just as I listened and believed!”
“Hush,” said the
German softly. “Hush! … Hush!”
I began to twist
about on the wire and to cry again. “I
can’t stand the thought of that! I
can’t stand it! … I never want to hear military music or high sounding words
again: I want to be buried where nobody
will ever find me. —I want to be wiped
out completely …”
Then, suddenly,
I became silent, for I had seen a way out.
I took off my identification tags and threw them into the wire, as far
as I could. I tore to pieces the
letters and photographs I carried and scattered the fragments. I threw my helmet away, so that no one could
guess my identity from the serial number stamped on the sweatband. Then I lay back exultant!
The German had
risen and stood looking at me, as if puzzled.
… “I’ve beaten the orators and the wreath layers at their own
game!” I said. … “I’ve beaten them all! —Nobody will ever use me as a symbol. Nobody will ever tell lies over my dead body
now …”
“Hush,” said the
German softly. “Hush! … Hush!”
Then my pain
became so unbearable that I began to choke and bite at the wire with my
teeth. The German came closer to me,
touching my head with his hand …
“Hush,” he
said. “Hush, please …”
But I could not
stop. I thrashed about on the wire and
cried in a shrill voice. The German
took out his pistol and stood twisting it in his hand, not looking at me. Then he put his arm under my head, lifting
me up, and kissed me softly on my cheek, repeating phrases which I could not
understand. I saw, then, that he too,
had been crying for a long time …
“Do it
quickly!” I said. “Quickly!
… Quickly!”
He stood with
trembling hands for a moment before he placed the barrel of his pistol against
my temple, turned his head away, and fired.
My eyes fluttered twice and then closed; my hands clutched and relaxed
slowly.
“I have broken
the chain,” I whispered. “I have
defeated the inherent stupidity of life.”
“Hush,” he
said. “Hush! … Hush! …
Hush! …”