The dispatch-rider smiled through all his pain.
"My France!" he whispered proudly, and tried to salute the officer.
The major laid his hand lightly on the terribly torn body.
"It is not you, who salute me," he said, "but I, who salute you!"
With those words in his ears, the dispatch-rider joined the immortal host of the dead heroes of France.
FOOTNOTES:
[14] In strict accuracy, this particular type of gun was not in use until the following spring.