THE YPRES TIMES
181
Thatnight I sent the following note up to our C.O.
Sir.I beg to report that the white mule was duly handed over to the Transport
Officer Nth. Battalion asking tor an equally good one in exchange.
For some reason, he now states that he no longer wants our mule.
The battle was over, our honour was saved. S. L. S.
OVER the ridge in Picardy the sun was setting. Its dying rays lighted up the
crosses on the hillside, yet gleamed faintly through the gloom in the valley
as though afraid to reveal its story.
A valleytonce smiling and peaceful, where men worked and little children played,
where the clear stream rippled through the orchards and fields near their homes and
by the church where they worshipped.
Gone now are the men and the children, their homes a heap of stones, their church
a ruin, the stream, murky and foul, oozes inconsequently into the thousand holes rent
in the fields and between the blackened and twisted trees of the orchards. Rude crosses
mark the spot where the men died defending their homes and little ones.
Near the ruin of their church the figure of a Saint untouched still stands, stretch
ing out its arms over the ruin and desolation as if in supplication. We read on the
crosses the word Patria." Patriotism to the French people has a great meaning,
a word to be used not lightly, but rather with reverence. Do we ever think of it in
this way
The present-day misuse of words and the use of exaggerated expressions by all
classes of English-speaking peoples is regrettable, regrettable because the true meaning
of words and phrases are lost.
Trivial things and occurrences in life are spoken of as being wonderful, awful,
marvellous, fearful and terrible until their usq, or rather, misuse, has long since ceased
to convey to the mind any conception of their true meaning.
The word Patriotism is no exception. In our school-days we were taught that
Patriot meant a lover of his Country. This, too, we think has a deeper meaning
a man must prove his love by sacrifice.
It is not necessary to die like those who lie beneath the rough crosses to prove a
love of your Country, but you must sacrifice something willingly for its betterment
in peace or its relief in time of danger.
We say willingly sacrifice because a man out here may grumble at the hardships,
render his service unwillingly, and seek only his own comfort on every occasion. His
sacrifice, like the one in the early Bible story, will not be accepted as it is made grud-
ingly. Likewise, in giving something to the betterment or relief of one's country we
must give, by self-denial, of that we are in need of ourselves. The widow's mite was
accepted in heaven before the rich man's gift, for, whereas he gave of his riches without
denying himself, the widow sacrificed her all.
If we could therefore dissociate patriotism from services grudingly rendered, from
displays, concerts, demonstrations, the singing of songs and making of speeches in
which it is so freely used, and often wrongly, as these things do not prove love and
use it with reverence, a man in life or death could wish for no finer tribute to his memory
than that written on the crosses in Picardy. In Picardy, where the sun sets on ruin and
strife and where lie men at peace who sacrificed their all.
Pro Patria.
—Reprinted from The Gth K.S.L.I. News."
