Page:War; or, What happens when one loves one's enemy, John Luther Long, 1913.djvu/336

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WAR

our brothers we are fighting. In the name of my company, I salute and thank you."

They didn't quite like that speech. Every one else had talked about hurrying to dye their flags and swords with blood. But here was old Jon telling them that he wanted to keep them from the stain of brothers' blood. I know he was thinking of Tankoo. So was I.

However, there was no time to think much. Jon gave the word to fall in—four ranks—and that looked so much like going, at last, that the cheering stopped, and after a silent solemn moment we were swamped by women. Every man had at least one woman hanging on him and crying—except just Jon and me.

The mothers were the most pitiful. Mostly they just held their red-cheeked boys off at arm's length and filled their eyes, as if they knew it might be the last, then hugged 'em close.

They couldn't get the women out of the ranks even to get our pictures taken. That's why that funny picture of the company seems all women and no soldiers.

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