Page:For remembrance, soldier poets who have fallen in the war, Adcock, 1920.djvu/329

Rh it was ineffable. It filled the eyes and illuminated the face. It was the smile of sheer fun, of pure gaiety, of sincere playfulness, innocent of irony; with a tinge of sarcasm—never. When he allowed himself to speak of meanness in the profession, of dishonesty in men, of evil in the world, his face became formidable. The glow of his countenance deepened; his words were bitter, and the tones harsh. But the indignation would not last. The smile would come back. The effect was spoiled. Every one laughed with him. After his experience at the front the old gaiety never returned.'

He went into the war 'with no illusions,' but strong in a profound sense of duty and the certainty that he was doing the right thing for the right cause. 'On the eve of the battle of Ypres,' he wrote to his mother, 'I was indebted to you for a letter which said "take good care of my son Jack, but I would not have you unmindful that, sometimes, when we save we lose." I have that last happy phrase to thank. Often when I had to go out