in flanders fields and other poems-第12部分

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However；　our　anxiety　was　not　borne　out；　and　we　got　out　of　the　danger　zone
by　8。30　　a　not　too　long　march　in　the　dark；　and　then　for
the　last　of　the　march　a　glorious　full　moon。　　The　houses　everywhere
are　as　dark　as　possible；　and　on　the　roads　noises　but　no　lights。
One　goes　on　by　the　long　rows　of　trees　that　are　so　numerous　in　this　country；
on　cobblestones　and　country　roads；　watching　one's　horses'　ears　wagging；
and　seeing　not　much　else。　　Our　maps　are　well　studied　before　we　start；
and　this　time　we　are　not　far　out　of　familiar　territory。
We　got　to　our　new　billet　about　10　　quite　a　good　farmhouse；
and　almost　at　once　one　feels　the　relief　of　the　strain　of　being
in　the　shell　zone。　　I　cannot　say　I　had　noticed　it　when　there；
but　one　is　distinctly　relieved　when　out　of　it。



Such；　then；　was　the　life　in　Flanders　fields　in　which　the　verse　was　born。
This　is　no　mere　surmise。　　There　is　a　letter　from　Major…General
E。　W。　B。　Morrison；　C。B。；　C。M。G。；　D。S。O。；　who　commanded　the　Brigade
at　the　time；　which　is　quite　explicit。　　〃This　poem；〃　General　Morrison　writes；
〃was　literally　born　of　fire　and　blood　during　the　hottest　phase
of　the　second　battle　of　Ypres。　　My　headquarters　were　in　a　trench
on　the　top　of　the　bank　of　the　Ypres　Canal；　and　John　had　his　dressing　station
in　a　hole　dug　in　the　foot　of　the　bank。　　During　periods　in　the　battle
men　who　were　shot　actually　rolled　down　the　bank　into　his　dressing　station。
Along　from　us　a　few　hundred　yards　was　the　headquarters　of　a　regiment；
and　many　times　during　the　sixteen　days　of　battle；　he　and　I　watched　them
burying　their　dead　whenever　there　was　a　lull。　　Thus　the　crosses；　row　on　row；
grew　into　a　good…sized　cemetery。　　Just　as　he　describes；　we　often　heard
in　the　mornings　the　larks　singing　high　in　the　air；　between　the　crash
of　the　shell　and　the　reports　of　the　guns　in　the　battery　just　beside　us。
I　have　a　letter　from　him　in　which　he　mentions　having　written　the　poem
to　pass　away　the　time　between　the　arrival　of　batches　of　wounded；
and　partly　as　an　experiment　with　several　varieties　of　poetic　metre。　　I　have
a　sketch　of　the　scene；　taken　at　the　time；　including　his　dressing　station；
and　during　our　operations　at　Passchendaele　last　November；
I　found　time　to　make　a　sketch　of　the　scene　of　the　crosses；　row　on　row；
from　which　he　derived　his　inspiration。〃

The　last　letter　from　the　Front　is　dated　June　1st；　1915。　　Upon　that　day
he　was　posted　to　No。　3　General　Hospital　at　Boulogne；　and　placed　in　charge
of　medicine　with　the　rank　of　Lieutenant…Colonel　as　of　date　17th　April；　1915。
Here　he　remained　until　the　day　of　his　death　on　January　28th；　1918。




　　III

The　Brand　of　War



There　are　men　who　pass　through　such　scenes　unmoved。　　If　they　have　eyes；
they　do　not　see；　and　ears；　they　do　not　hear。　　But　John　McCrae
was　profoundly　moved；　and　bore　in　his　body　until　the　end
the　signs　of　his　experience。　　Before　taking　up　his　new　duties
he　made　a　visit　to　the　hospitals　in　Paris　to　see　if　there　was　any　new　thing
that　might　be　learned。　　A　Nursing　Sister　in　the　American　Ambulance
at　Neuilly…sur…Seine　met　him　in　the　wards。　　Although　she　had　known　him
for　fifteen　years　she　did　not　recognize　him；　　he　appeared　to　her　so　old；
so　worn；　his　face　lined　and　ashen　grey　in　colour；　his　expression　dull；
his　action　slow　and　heavy。

To　those　who　have　never　seen　John　McCrae　since　he　left　Canada
this　change　in　his　appearance　will　seem　incredible。　　He　was　of　the　Eckfords；
and　the　Eckford　men　were　〃bonnie　men〃；　men　with　rosy　cheeks。　　It　was　a　year
before　I　met　him　again；　and　he　had　not　yet　recovered　from　the　strain。
Although　he　was　upwards　of　forty　years　of　age　when　he　left　Canada
he　had　always　retained　an　appearance　of　extreme　youthfulness。
He　frequented　the　company　of　men　much　younger　than　himself；
and　their　youth　was　imputed　to　him。　　His　frame　was　tall　and　well　knit；
and　he　showed　alertness　in　every　move。　　He　would　arise　from　the　chair
with　every　muscle　in　action；　and　walk　forth　as　if　he　were　about　to　dance。

The　first　time　I　saw　him　he　was　doing　an　autopsy　at
the　Montreal　General　Hospital　upon　the　body　of　a　child
who　had　died　under　my　care。　　This　must　have　been　in　the　year　1900；
and　the　impression　of　boyishness　remained　until　I　met　him　in　France
sixteen　years　later。　　His　manner　of　dress　did　much　to　produce
this　illusion。　　When　he　was　a　student　in　London　he　employed　a　tailor
in　Queen　Victoria　Street　to　make　his　clothes；　but　with　advancing　years
he　neglected　to　have　new　measurements　taken　or　to　alter　the　pattern
of　his　cloth。　　To　obtain　a　new　suit　was　merely　to　write　a　letter；
and　he　was　always　economical　of　time。　　In　those　days　jackets　were　cut　short；
and　he　adhered　to　the　fashion　with　persistent　care。

This　appearance　of　youth　at　times　caused　chagrin　to　those　patients
who　had　heard　of　his　fame　as　a　physician；　and　called　upon　him
for　the　first　time。　　In　the　Royal　Victoria　Hospital；
after　he　had　been　appointed　physician；　he　entered　the　wards
and　asked　a　nurse　to　fetch　a　screen　so　that　he　might　examine　a　patient
in　privacy。

〃Students　are　not　allowed　to　use　screens；〃　the　young　woman　warned　him
with　some　asperity　in　her　voice。

If　I　were　asked　to　state　briefly　the　impression　which　remains　with　me
most　firmly；　I　should　say　it　was　one　of　continuous　laughter。
That　is　not　true；　of　course；　for　in　repose　his　face　was　heavy；
his　countenance　more　than　ruddy；　it　was　even　of　a　〃choleric〃　cast；
and　at　times　almost　livid；　especially　when　he　was　recovering
from　one　of　those　attacks　of　asthma　from　which　he　habitually　suffered。
But　his　smile　was　his　own；　and　it　was　ineffable。　　It　filled　the　eyes；
and　illumined　the　face。　　It　was　the　smile　of　sheer　fun；　of　pure　gaiety；
of　sincere　playfulness；　innocent　of　irony；　with　a　tinge　of　sarcasm　　never。
When　he　allowed　himself　to　speak　of　meanness　in　the　profession；
of　dishonesty　in　men；　of　evil　in　the　world；　his　face　became　formidable。
The　glow　of　his　countenance　deepened；　his　words　were　bitter；
and　the　tones　harsh。　　But　the　indignation　would　not　last。　　The　smile　would
come　back。　　The　effect　was　spoiled。　　Everyone　laughed　with　him。

After　his　experience　at　the　front　the　old　gaiety　never　returned。
There　were　moments　of　irascibility　and　moods　of　irritation。
The　desire　for　solitude　grew　upon　him；　and　with　Bonfire　and　Bonneau
he　would　go　apart　for　long　afternoons　far　afield　by　the　roads　and　lanes
about　Boulogne。　　The　truth　is：　　he　felt　that　he　and　all　had　failed；
and　that　the　torch　was　thrown　from　failing　hands。　　We　have　heard　much
of　the　suffering；　the　misery；　the　cold；　the　wet；　the　gloom　of　those
first　three　winters；　but　no　tongue　has　yet　uttered　the　inner　misery　of　heart
that　was　bred　of　those　three　years　of　failure　to　break　the　enemy's　force。

He　was　not　alone　in　this　shadow　of　deep　darkness。　　Givenchy；　Festubert；
Neuve…Chapelle；　Ypres；　Hooge；　the　Somme　　to　mention　alone　the　battles
in　which　up　to　that　time　the　Canadian　Corps　had　been　engaged　
all　ended　in　failure；　and　to　a　sensitive　and　foreboding　mind
there　were　sounds　and　signs　that　it　would　be　given　to　this　generation　to　hear
the　pillars　and　fabric　of　Empire　come　crashing　into　the　abysm　of　chaos。
He　was　not　at　the　Somme　in　that　October　of　1916；　but　those　who　returned
up　north　with