〃Tell　the　other　women；〃　he　said。　　〃Open　their　eyes。　　Tell　them　of　their　sons　that　you　have　seen　dead　and　dying　in　the　foolish　quarrel　for　which　there　was　no　need。　　Tell　them　of　the　foulness；　of　the　cruelty；　of　the　senselessness　of　it　all。　　Set　the　women　against　War。　　That　is　the　only　way　to　end　it。〃
  It　was　a　morning　or　two　later　that；　knocking　at　the　door　of　her　loft；　he　asked　her　if　she　would　care　to　come　with　him　to　the　trenches。　　He　had　brought　an　outfit　for　her　which　he　handed　to　her　with　a　grin。　　She　had　followed　Folk's　advice　and　had　cut　her　hair；　and　when　she　appeared　before　him　for　inspection　in　trousers　and　overcoat；　the　collar　turned　up　about　her　neck；　and　reaching　to　her　helmet；　he　had　laughingly　pronounced　the　experiment　safe。
  A　motor　carried　them　to　where　the　road　ended；　and　from　there；　a　little　one…horse　ambulance　took　them　on　to　almost　the　last　trees　of　the　forest。　　There　was　no　life　to　be　seen　anywhere。　　During　the　last　mile；　they　had　passed　through　a　continuous　double　line　of　graves；　here　and　there　a　group　of　tiny　crosses　keeping　one　another　company；　others　standing　singly；　looking　strangely　lonesome　amid　the　torn…up　earth　and　shattered　trees。　　But　even　these　had　ceased。　Death　itself　seemed　to　have　been　frightened　away　from　this　terror…　haunted　desert。
  Looking　down；　she　could　see　thin　wreaths　of　smoke；　rising　from　the　ground。　　From　underneath　her　feet　there　came　a　low；　faint；　ceaseless　murmur。
  〃Quick；〃　said　the　doctor。　　He　pushed　her　in　front　of　him；　and　she　almost　fell　down　a　flight　of　mud…covered　steps　that　led　into　the　earth。　　She　found　herself　in　a　long；　low　gallery；　lighted　by　a　dim　oil　lamp；　suspended　from　the　blackened　roof。　　A　shelf　ran　along　one　side　of　it；　covered　with　straw。　　Three　men　lay　there。　　The　straw　was　soaked　with　their　blood。　　They　had　been　brought　in　the　night　before　by　the　stretcher…bearers。　　A　young　surgeon　was　rearranging　their　splints　and　bandages；　and　redressing　their　wounds。　　They　would　lie　there　for　another　hour　or　so；　and　then　start　for　their　twenty　kilometre　drive　over　shell…ridden　roads　to　one　or　another　of　the　great　hospitals　at　the　base。　　While　she　was　there；　two　more　cases　were　brought　in。　　The　doctor　gave　but　a　glance　at　the　first　one　and　then　made　a　sign；　and　the　bearers　passed　on　with　him　to　the　further　end　of　the　gallery。　　He　seemed　to　understand；　for　he　gave　a　low；　despairing　cry　and　the　tears　sprang　to　his　eyes。　　He　was　but　a　boy。　　The　other　had　a　foot　torn　off。　　One　of　the　orderlies　gave　him　two　round　pieces　of　wood　to　hold　in　his　hands　while　the　young　surgeon　cut　away　the　hanging　flesh　and　bound　up　the　stump。
  The　doctor　had　been　whispering　to　one　of　the　bearers。　　He　had　the　face　of　an　old　man；　but　his　shoulders　were　broad　and　he　looked　sturdy。　　He　nodded；　and　beckoned　Joan　to　follow　him　up　the　slippery　steps。
  〃It　is　breakfast　time；〃　he　explained；　as　they　emerged　into　the　air。　〃We　leave　each　other　alone　for　half　an　houreven　the　snipers。　　But　we　must　be　careful。〃　　She　followed　in　his　footsteps；　stooping　so　low　that　her　hands　could　have　touched　the　ground。　　They　had　to　be　sure　that　they　did　not　step　off　the　narrow　track　marked　with　white　stones；　lest　they　should　be　drowned　in　the　mud。　　They　passed　the　head　of　a　dead　horse。　　It　looked　as　if　it　had　been　cut　off　and　laid　there；　the　body　was　below　it　in　the　mud。
  They　spoke　in　whispers；　and　Joan　at　first　had　made　an　effort　to　disguise　her　voice。　　But　her　conductor　had　smiled。　　〃They　shall　be　called　the　brothers　and　the　sisters　of　the　Lord；〃　he　had　said。　〃Mademoiselle　is　brave　for　her　Brothers'　sake。〃　　He　was　a　priest。　There　were　many　priests　among　the　stretcher…bearers。
  Crouching　close　to　the　ground；　behind　the　spreading　roots　of　a　giant　oak；　she　raised　her　eyes。　　Before　her　lay　a　sea　of　smooth；　soft　mud　nearly　a　mile　wide。　　From　the　centre　rose　a　solitary　tree；　from　which　all　had　been　shot　away　but　two　bare　branches　like　outstretched　arms　above　the　silence。　　Beyond；　the　hills　rose　again。　There　was　something　unearthly　in　the　silence　that　seemed　to　brood　above　that　sea　of　mud。　　The　old　priest　told　her　of　the　living　men；　French　and　German；　who　had　stood　there　day　and　night　sunk　in　it　up　to　their　waists；　screaming　hour　after　hour；　and　waving　their　arms；　sinking　into　it　lower　and　lower；　none　able　to　help　them：　　until　at　last　only　their　screaming　heads　were　left；　and　after　a　time　these；　too；　would　disappear：　　and　the　silence　come　again。
  She　saw　the　ditches；　like　long　graves　dug　for　the　living；　where　the　weary；　listless　men　stood　knee…deep　in　mud；　hoping　for　wounds　that　would　relieve　them　from　the　ghastly　monotony　of　their　existence；　the　holes　of　muddy　water　where　the　dead　things　lay；　to　which　they　crept　out　in　the　night　to　wash　a　little　of　the　filth　from　their　clammy　bodies　and　their　stinking　clothes；　the　holes　dug　out　of　the　mud　in　which　they　ate　and　slept　and　lived　year　after　year：　　till　brain　and　heart　and　soul　seemed　to　have　died　out　of　them；　and　they　remembered　with　an　effort　that　they　once　were　men。
  After　a　time；　the　care　of　the　convalescents　passed　almost　entirely　into　Joan's　hands；　Madame　Lelanne　being　told　off　to　assist　her。　　By　dint　of　much　persistence　she　had　succeeded　in　getting　the　leaky　roof　repaired；　and　in　place　of　the　smoky　stove　that　had　long　been　her　despair　she　had　one　night　procured　a　fine　calorifere　by　the　simple　process　of　stealing　it。　　Madame　Lelanne　had　heard　about　it　from　the　gossips。　　It　had　been　brought　to　a　lonely　house　at　the　end　of　the　village　by　a　major　of　engineers。　　He　had　returned　to　the　trenches　the　day　before；　and　the　place　for　the　time　being　was　empty。　　The　thieves　were　never　discovered。　　The　sentry　was　positive　that　no　one　had　passed　him　but　two　women；　one　of　them　carrying　a　baby。　　Madame　Lelanne　had　dressed　it　up　in　a　child's　cloak　and　hood；　and　had　carried　it　in　her　arms。　　As　it　must　have　weighed　nearly　a　couple　of　hundredweight　suspicion　had　not　attached　to　them。
  Space　did　not　allow　of　any　separation；　broken　Frenchmen　and　broken　Germans　would　often　lie　side　by　side。　　Joan　would　wonder；　with　a　grim　smile　to　herself；　what　the　patriotic　Press　of　the　different　countries　would　have　thought　had　they　been　there　to　have　overheard　the　conversations。　　Neither　France　nor　Germany　appeared　to　be　the　enemy；　but　a　thing　called　〃They；〃　a　mysterious　power　that　worked　its　will　upon　them　both　from　a　place　they　always　spoke　of　as　〃Back　there。〃　　One　day　the　talk　fell　on　courage。　　A　young　French　soldier　was　holding　forth　when　Joan　entered　the　hut。
  〃It　makes　me　laugh；〃　he　was　saying；　〃all　this　newspaper　talk。　Every　nation；　properly　led；　fights　bravely。　　It　is　the　male　instinct。　　Women　go　into　hysterics　about　it；　because　it　has　not　been　given　them。　　I　have　the　Croix　de　Guerre　with　all　three　leaves；　and　I　haven't　half　the　courage　of　my　dog；　who　weighs　twelve　kilos；　and　would　face　a　regiment　by　himself。　　Why；　a　game　cock　has　got　more　than　the　best　of　us。　　It's　the　man　who　doesn't　think；　who　can't　think；　who　has　the　most　couragewho　imagines　nothing；　but　just　goes　forward　with　his　head　down；　like　a　bull。　　There　is；　of　course；　a　real　courage。　　When　you　are　by　yourself；　and　have　to　do　something　in　cold　blood。　　But　the　courage　required　for　rushing　forward；　shouting　and　yelling　with　a　lot　of　other　fellowswhy；　it　would　take　a　hundred　times　more　pluck　to　turn　back。〃
  〃They　know　that；〃　chimed　in　the　man　lying　next　to　him；　〃or　they　would　not　drug　us。　　Why；　when　we　stormed　La　Haye　I　knew　nothing　until　an　ugly…looking　German　spat　a　pint　of　blood　into　my　face　and　woke　me　up。〃
  A　middle…aged　sergeant；　who　had　a　wound　in　the　stomach　and　was　sitting　up　in　his　bed；　looked　across。　　〃There　was　a　line　of　Germans　came　upon　us；〃　he　said；　〃at　Bras。　　I　thought　I　must　be　suffering　from　a　nightmare　when　I　saw　them。　　They　had　thrown　away　their　rifles　and　had　all　joined　hands。　　They　came　dancing　towards　us　just　like　a　row　of　ballet　girls。　　They　were　shrieking　and　laughing；　and　they　never　attempted　to　do　anything。　　We　just　waited　until　they　were　close　up　and　then　shot　them　down。　　It　was　like　killing　a　lot　of　kids　who　had　come　to　have　a　game　with　us。　　The　one　I　potted　got　his　arms　round　me　before　he　coughed　himself　out；　calling　me　his　'liebe　Elsa；'　and　wanting　to　kiss　me。　　Lord！　　You　can　guess　how　the　Boche　ink…slingers　spread　themselves　over　that　business：　'Sonderbar！　　Colossal！　　Unvergessliche　Helden。'　　Poor　devils！〃
  〃They'll　give　us　ginger　before　it　is　over；〃　said　another。　　He　had　had　both　his　lips　torn　away；　and　appeared　to　be　always　laughing。　〃Stuff　it　into　us　as　if　we　were　horses　at　a　fair。　　That　will　make　us　run　forward；　right　enough。〃
  〃Oh；　come；〃　struck　in　a　youngster　who　was　lying　perfectly　flat；　face　downwards　on　his　bed：　　it　was　the　position　in　which　he　could　breathe　easiest。　　He　raised　his　head　a　couple　of　inches　and　twisted　it　round　so　as　to　get　his　mouth　free。　　〃It　isn't　as　bad　as　all　that。　　Why；　the　Thirty…third　swarmed　into　Fort　Malmaison　of　their　own　accord；　though　'twas　like　jumping　into　a　boiling　furnace；　and　held　it　for　three　days　against　pretty　nearly　a　division。　　There　weren't　a　dozen　of　them　left　when　we　relieved　them。　　They　had　no　ammunition　left。　　They'd　just　been　filling　up　the　gaps　with　their　bodies。　　And　they　wouldn't　go　back　even　then。　　We　had　to　drag　them　away。　　'They　shan't　pa