Three Soldiers

ks and fringes of gold where the sunlight struck them. He stood stiff and motionless at attention, although there was a sharp pain in his left

s ankle hurt so. His eyes travelled back to the fringe of the trees against the bright sky. So this was what he got for those weeks in dugouts, for all the times he had thrown himself on his belly in the mud, for the bullets he had shot into the unknown at grey specks that moved among the grey mud. Something was crawling up the middle of his back. He wasn't sure if it were a louse or if he were imagining it. An order had been shouted. Automatically he had changed his position to parade rest. Somewhere far away a little man was walking towards the long drab lines. A wind had come up, rustling the stiff leaves of the grove of walnut trees. The voice squeaked above it, but Chrisfield could not make out what it said. The wind in the trees made a vast rhythmic sound like the churning of water astern of the transport he had come o

were sweating irritated faces; the woollen tunics with their high collars were like straight-jackets that hot afternoon. Chrisfield marched with his fists clenched; he wanted to fight s

The sergeant stood in front of them with his arms crossed, looking critically at the company that marched past. He had a white heavy face and black eyebrows that met over

s in front of the little board shanty where they were quartered, which had been pu

ndiana?" said Judkins, punching

ve him a smashing blow in the jaw t

ed red. He swung wi

outed somebody. "What's he want to hit

ged in bet

git a

heir feet into the deep dust. Chrisfield was limping. On both sides of the road were fields of ripe wheat, golden under the sun. In the distance were low green hills fading to blue, pale yellow in patches with the ripe grain. Here and there a thick clump of trees or a screen of poplars broke the flatness of the lo

you to try an' smash poor old Judkie's jaw? He coul

walked on

t of thing.... I should think you'ld be sick of wanting

urts, bitterly, his

m ankle when Ah tumbled off th

'm sick of this business.... Almost like

ls, Andy. Look... let's go in swimm

my pocket. We can was

have. You ought to be able to tell what it is makes a feller g

e soft silk of a poppy

e any effect if I ate

hy

d. Wouldn't you like to do that, Chris, an' not wake up t

eed capsule he held in his h

guess it's the

t's

o to sleep and have wonde

st night. Dreamed Ah saw a feller that had shot hisself

was

s a Fritzie ha

Andrews, his voice trembli

round him was aeroplanes.... R

ouldn't close the wi

er on tier like fantastic galleons in full sail, floated, changing slowly in a greenish sky. The reflection of clouds in the silvery glisten of the pond's surface was broken by clumps of grasses and bit

n' machine's comin' t

ed it,

ed his cloth

sun and the wind on your

and lay flat on his belly on t

ice. "Your skin's so soft and supple, and nothing in the world has the

ield l

's raised.... Found an

om those stinking uniforms and you'll feel like a human bein

ce unexpectedly. A "Y" man with sharp

ield sullenly, limpi

soap?" sai

d the "Y" man. Then he added in a

in, too," s

't you fellers get under the water.... You see there's two French

aid Andrews soaping,

y lahk it," sa

ven't any moral

at us? Maybe there won't be

do you

to a feller's body?" asked Andrews savagely. He splashed in

d back at the "Y" man, who still stood on the bank. Behind him were other men undressing, and soon the grassy slope was filled with naked men and yellowish grey underclothes, and many d

, almost as if he were talking to himself; "I feel so clean and free. It's like voluntaril

he bathers, his neat uniform and well-polished boots and puttees contrasting strangely with the

oddam rig

y, if you talk that way," said

your definiti

in the cause of democracy.... You're doing this so

shot a

t I'd have enlisted, really I

er that your women folks, your sisters and sweethear

rt," said Andrews, starting to get into his

three months have been worth all the other years of my min-" he caught himself-"life.... I've heard

the pond, to which the reflection of the greenish silvery sky and the great piled white clouds

l survive you and

an talk to them guys,"

a bit of honeysuckle still in bloom. Do

o they pay those

d if I

kitchen Chrisfield saw Sergeant Anderson talking with Higgins, his own sergeant. They were laughing together, and he heard Anderson's big voice saying jovially, "We've pul

d the earth and laugh importantly like that. He held out his plate. The K.P. splashed the meat and gravy into it. He leaned against the tar-papered wall of the shack, eating h

eat fields, while the smoke of a cigarette rose in spirals about his face and his fair hair. He looked peaceful

it of the devil i

n the floorboards in the alley between the bunks, where a few patches of yellow grass had not yet been completely crushed away by footsteps. Now that the shack was empty, Chrisfield could hear plainly the peep-peep of the little swallows in their mud nests. He sat quiet on the end of one of the bunks, looking out of the open door at the blue shadows that were beginning to lengthen on the grass of the meadow behind. H

From the field kitchen alongsid

a lulu, every

pretty lil' gi

big swallow skimmed into the shack. Chrisfield's cheeks began to feel very softly flushed. His head drooped o

a lulu, every

pretty lil' gi

eld fel

almost dark. A tall man stood out black

g here?" said a de

ddenly. It was Anderson's face that was between him and the light. In the greenish obscurity the skin loo

ain't out wit

blood beating in his wrists and temples, stinging his eyes lik

panies was to go out an

A

en Sergeant Higgins come

l and joyous. He felt anger taking possession of him. He seemed to

That damn General may come back to look

in, putting as much insolence as he could summon

ers. "I guess you've learned a little discipline by this time. Anyhow you've got to clean this place up. G

oin' to neit

the worse for you," shouted the

to shoot you. You've picked on me enough." C

at a court-martial

a hoot in he

the shouted order, "Dis-missed." Then men crowded into the shack, laughing and talking. Chrisfield sat still on the end of the bunk, looking at the bright oblon

ee you I'll have to put my

ng laugh faded a

k and walked straight up to Chrisfi

his man; get your gun and cartridge bel

upper lip, shuffled sheepishly over to his place beside Chrisfield's cot and let the butt of his rifle come down with a bang on th

r, Chris?" he ask

e a hoot in hell what he did," s

lk to him," said Small in an apologetic tone. "I don

ed off witho

thin' to ye," said Jenkins, grinning

n hell what they do,"

th a bayonet. The mud nests crumbled and fell on the floor and the bunks, filling the air with a flutter of feathers and a smell of birdlime. The little naked bodies, with their orange bills too big for them, gave a s

ll. Judkins was sweeping the little gas

an expression of tenderness. He made his two hands into a nest-shaped hollow, out of whi

he said. "Wh

picked t

ere? God! it looks to me as if they went out of thei

o picnic," s

not going out of your way to raise more he

n which was stretched a parchment-

going to open the canteen tomorrow, in the last shack on the Bea

eered. The "

the little bird

can soldier being deliberately crue

muttered Dad, waddling out int

ne before all those officers, of being cross-questioned by those curt voices, frightened him. He would rather have been lashed. Whatever was he to say, he kept asking himself; he would get mixed up or say things he didn't mean to, or else he wouldn't be ab

at time they got the bead on our trench

her world. Already he was cut off from his outfit. He'd d

y opened them. He lay on his bunk staring up into the dark. A faint blue light still came from outside, giving a cu

on was quartered. The blue sky flicked with pinkish-white clouds gave a shimmer of blue and lavender and white to the bright water. At the bottom could be seen b

s with his sparkling blue eyes, "how's things?"

ay an' confined to quarters,

hey wer

d shot an' all that, so th

scrubbing at h

of mud I don't think I ever

ndy. Ah'll wash it. You a

o, I'll

hide out

ks aw

nd wiped the mud off his

bastard," said Chrisfiel

e an ass

r to God

rought up. The thing's over. You

h." He wrung the shirt out carefully and flipped A

low, Chris, even i

ing into the line

f artillery going up the road; F

aisin' hell in th

he road. A motorcycle despa

has the fun,"

lieve anybo

out the

ing important to have

dark until red and yellow blotches danced before them. He walked very slowly and carefully, holding something very gently in his hand under his raincoat. He felt himse

elt his hair full of sweat that ran with the rain down his glowing face.

ound of men talking in one of the shanties. When he shut his eyes he saw the white face

Bringy Wood. Phrases came to his mind as they had then. Without thinking what they meant, the words Make the world safe for Democracy formed themselves in his head. They were very comforting. They occupied his thoughts. He said them to himself again and again. Meanwhile

room where a lamp was burning. At a table covered with printed blanks of different size sat a corporal; behind him was a bunk and a pile of equipment. Th

strode away noisily from the window

he asked in a breathless vo

nt," said the man. "Anderson's gone to

rrified. The smooth stick he held seemed to burn him. He was straining his ears for an explosion. Walking straight before him down the road, he went faster

a minute

e of the wheatfield. He felt t

ar excited voices. He walked recklessly on, the rain blinding him. When he finally

drews sat writing with a pile of papers before him and a bottle of champagne. It seemed to Chrisfield

ook Chrisfield by the arm and led him into the little back room, where was a high be

had just appeared from behind the bed. She had a flabby rosy face and violet circles under her eyes, dark as if they'd been made by blows, and untidy hair. A dirty grey mus

Chris? You're crazy to brea

re. Ah ain't your sort an

at.... But I'd just as soon be your s

t n

tale food to make a place on the greasy table. He took a gulp out of the bottle, that mad

id over his shoulder, "only they'

in his pockets for some money. As he had just been paid he had a fifty-franc note. He spread it out carefully before her. Her eyes glistened. The pupils s

t down in front of Andrews. H

e," he said in his normal voice

im put his hand on Chrisfield's hand that lay

ng so when you came in her

id Chrisfield in a

They could hear the woman's foots

ome," said

... Bonsoir

there clusters of stars showed through. They splashed merrily through the puddles.

was like you, Andy

'm no sort of a person at all. I'm tame

elp a feller to git

belong to a crowd that just fakes learning. I guess the best thing that can happen to us is t

in'.... Ah doan give a damn

arters, the sergeant looked at Chrisfie

e. The fellows from the Thirty-second say we're go

ey know a

st edition of th

know something, Andrews.... It'll b

s put on a grea

his blankets. He stretched his arms languidly a couple of times,