Identifier: greententinfland00mort (find matches)
Title: A green tent in Flanders
Year: 1917 (1910s)
Authors: Mortimer, Maud
Subjects: World War, 1914-1918
Publisher: Garden City, New York, Doubleday, Page & company
Contributing Library: The Library of Congress
Digitizing Sponsor: The Library of Congress

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Text Appearing Before Image:
198 A GREEN TENT IN FLANDERS

onously blown through the lips has almost
ceased. There is a shuffling among the
orderlies. The sound of rapid footsteps
comes down the long ward. The General
stands at the foot of the bed. Lamplight
glints on his drawn sword and on the Croix
de Guerre hanging from the ribbon which
he holds in his hand.
" In the name of the Republic—to you,
Jean Magnard"—familiar words and of
trepeated in these shacks anchored too near
the breaking end of the turbulent waves
of human strife not to catch the spindrift of
their shattered endeavour—"In the name of
the Republic——" The erect
old soldier leans forward, gently pushes back
the damp wisps of hair and kisses the dying
man. Then with a hand on one of the re-
laxed cold ones he murmurs, "Merci, l'ami."
There is a flutter of the eyelids and a smile
slackens the drawn lips.
That smile—was it for us and for our
tiny piece of brown metal as we stand by his
bed stranded "this side the sheer coast of
eternity," or when he smiled, were we al-
ready out of focus?
Text Appearing After Image:

February 16.

Will one of you nurses
leave that nice fire and go at
once to Orchine? Some one
there has been badly burned
and they have sent a boy
flying up to the hospital fo
rhelp. You will go. Miss
Carr? Then you, madame,
will you pass by the phar-

199

200 A GREEN TENT IN FLANDERS

macy and order two bottles of picric acid and
two of distilled water? I will run to the linen
room for cotton-wool and bandages and
will meet you at the gate. By the way,
Rosalie, tell Johnson to get the car ready."
How bitterly cold it is. The pond is
crusted with ice along the bank. One of
the ducks hesitates dangerously near the
transparent inner edge, which slips into a
centre of black water where the others
put up a feint of enjoying their swim. Over-
head the sky opens and shuts: heavy white
clouds sway and curtsey to earths emo-
tions, tantalizingly uncovering and then
again hurrying to blot out patches of deep
blue—like lids drawn suddenly over smart-
ing eyes that have looked on both sides of
that line where cruel guns never cease to
snarl and splutter.

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