He looks as if he had not slept for days certainly he has not shaved for a week. He approaches one of the workmen.
Pat—Say buddy any chance for a job here?
The Workman—Hell no. They was fifty applicants yesterday. (Looking at his army shirt) Most of them ex-soldiers like you. Jobs is mighty scarce.
Pat—I'll tell the world they are. I'd almost join the army again, except for my wife and kid.
The Workman—God—don't do it.
Pat—Why—was you across?
The Workman—Yes, God damn it—eight months. Next war I'll let somebody else do the fighting.
Pat—Same here. The wise guys were them that stayed at home and kept their jobs.
The Workman—I'll say they were.
Pat—(Growing more excited)—And while we was over there fighting,
nothing was too good for us—"brave boys," they said, "we shall never
forget what you have done for us." Never forget—hell! In about a year
everybody forgot there ever was a war and a fellow has a hell of a time
getting a job—and when you mention the war they just laugh—why God
damn it, I've been out of work for six months and I ain't no loafer
either and my wife has had to go back to her folks and I'm just about
all in—
During this speech the work on dismantling the arch has steadily
progressed. Suddenly there comes a warning cry—"Look out"—as the
supports unexpectedly give way. Pat is too engrossed in his tirade to
take heed, and as the center portion of the arch falls it crushes him
beneath its weight. After the cloud of dust clears, he is seen lying
under the mass. By a curious twist of fate he has been crushed by the
portion of the arch bearing the inscription "For the Freedom of the
World." His eyes open for an instant—he reads, through the mist of
approaching death, the words, and he laughs—