Yet a moment afterwards
when the supper bell rang the rattle of canes on the walks and the
sound of scores of men whistling and singing as they came from all the
buildings round about proved most convincingly that hundreds of others
had gone through this same struggle and had come out victorious.
My visit to the Institute for the blinded soldiers was to me the most
inspiring experience that I had in France, strange as that statement
may sound, for it showed more conclusively than war itself the
infinite capacity for courage that exists in almost every man. Yet the
sights that we saw--so terribly pathetic--made one realize as never
before the truth of the epigram "War is hell."
When we again passed through the gates of St. Denis on our way towards
our "home" in the field, it was a sunny day and all the fruit trees
were in full bloom, making a broad belt of white for three or four
miles around Paris. With the exception of a stop at the cathedral of
Amiens to see the wonderful old stained glass windows, unequalled by
any in Great Britain, we travelled steadily all day without incident
and reached our little home town near the Belgian border by five
o'clock to find that all was well.
CHAPTER XIV.
TABLE TALK AT A FLANDERS MESS.
"Look out," warned the Colonel as they stumbled along the Rue de la
Gare, "there's a hole somewhere about here.
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