Monday morning came at last, the 11th of November, 1918, when the whole world was listening for news. And the news came. It sped across the ocean cables, it flashed through the air by wireless, it set the bells ringing and the whistles shrieking in every part of the Allied world, it sent the people of Paris and London and Rome and New York into the streets in thankful and rejoicing throngs, it thrilled both hemispheres and all the continents. Only in the capitals of the Central Powers did it sound like the knell of doom.
It came, too, to the battlefronts, came in a clarion note of bugles that woke the men from sleep.
“What is it?” asked Tom sleepily.
“It’s too early for reveille,” grumbled Billy.
“Wake up, you boobs!” cried Frank joyously. “The armistice is signed! The war is over!”
CHAPTER XV
ON TO THE RHINE
It would have been hard to analyze the feeling of the Army Boys when the meaning of it all dawned upon them.
Their first feeling was that of satisfaction at work well done. Uncle Sam had sent them over to finish the job. Well, they had finished it.
Their next sensation was that of delight at having accomplished the downfall of the Huns. They had saved the world from slavery to the most brutal nation that the modern world had known.
Then there was the feeling that at last they could be free from the daily danger of wounds and death. They had risked this freely and gladly as long as it was necessary. Yet life was sweet and they were young.