They took me to a field
hospital, and I guessed by the look of things that it was close to
the first lines. It made me sick to think how near I must be to
our own front--yet so far!
"Well, I won't be long-winded about what happened next.
I can go into details when we meet. It turned out that I had
a leg, an arm, and some ribs smashed. The Bosch surgeon
wasn't half bad, as Bosches go, but he was a bit brusque. I
heard him say right out to the anaesthetist, it seemed a pity
to waste good ether on me, as there wasn't one chance in five
to save my life. Still, I'd be an experiment! Before I went
off under the stuff I told them who I was, for I'd heard they were
sometimes fairly decent to enemy aviators, and I hoped to get a
message through to my people. I was feeling as stupid as an
owl, but I did think I saw a change come over the men's faces
when they heard my name. Later, putting two and two together,
I concluded that Germany was just the kind of business
nation to know all about the dear old Governor. I might have
realized that, out of sheer spite against the United States for
bursting into the war, they'd enjoy letting a man of James Beckett
Senior's importance go on believing his son was dead. I bet
they put my name over the grave of my poor, burned pal, Hank
Lee! It would be the thoroughgoing sort of thing they do, when
they make up their minds to create an impression.
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