Page:War's dark frame (IA warsdarkframe00camp).pdf/144

114 one sees on a football field during early fall practice. Then I commenced to understand, for other sacks, equally fat, sprawled on the ground. The soldiers themselves illustrated the rest. Released by the flashing of an officer's cane, they dashed precipitately forward, assaulting the contrivance with their bayonets. Some lowered their points and pinioned the prone sacks. Others chose those representing standing men. Steel gleamed, ripped through canvas, emerged on the other side, and was withdrawn with quick, twisting motions. The sea rolled in with an exceptional placidity beneath a smiling sun. A clean wind blew across the dunes and the fields. But it was clear that these new soldiers saw nothing, felt nothing, beyond the sacks, inert and pig-like, at which they rehearsed with a frantic obstinacy the killing of men.

Farther on practice trenches scarred the sands or were in process of construction. A minute efficiency appeared to have been brought to the training in attack and defence of these men who recently had stood behind counters, or bent over desks, or, perhaps, tilled peacefully such fields as these.

The train drew up before the station of a fairly large town in the legendary days, a summer resort. Two youthful and attractive Red Cross