LINES ON LEAVING A LITTLE TOWN WHERE WE RESTED

We with the war ahead,

You who have held the line,

Laughing, have broken bread

And taken wine.

We cannot speak your tongue,

We cannot fully know

Things hid beneath your smile

Four years ago.

Things which have given us,

Grimly, a common debt,

Now that we take the field,

We won’t forget!

Russell Lord, Corp., F. A.

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