“How can I report myself, till I can find the place to report?”
“Why don’t you report to your superior officer?”
“I can’t report to him till I can find him, can I?”
“Don’t you know I am your superior officer;—why don’t you salute?”
“If you are, consider yourself saluted.”
The Major roared out, in disgust,—“Here, sergeant, take this fool to prison.”
De Chamer, Swiss, a major in the Swiss National Army, fought his way up in the Legion from a private to a captaincy. The Swiss residents of Paris showed appreciation of their countrymen in the service of France by inviting them to a banquet held in the Palais d’Orsay, on Independence Day, Aug. 1, 1917.
Emery, Swiss, a student of Oxford University, England, outspoken, independent and intelligent—a good comrade, was killed on the Somme, July, 1916.
Ben Azef, an Arab, an Oriental priest, always wanted water, when there was none. He would flop onto his knees, face toward the East, and bow his forehead to the ground. Then get up on the trench and rail at the Germans for their swinish propensities and ruthless rapacity.
A shell dropped into his section. His comrades threw themselves on the ground and yelled out:—