Show American W Woman Utters Truth Heroes Have Felt FeltIn In that exquisite record of ot a n. love lovo unknown unknown un un- l known but not or uns unsung unseat ns The Tho Lovo Love of or an Unknown Soldier t to toe soldier lover tolls tells of or a poem whir which meant much to him Hero aro are his ov ow own n words The other night I went f up to re relieve ro- ro love lieve a a. man In a n. forward observation post an ln O. O P. P as wo we call It It It was as a dirty kind of ot holo hole In a red battered trench with mud a n foot deep which stuck t tono to toone's ono ones boots like glue slue Just as ho was wo leaving he threw In a a. copy of or Scribners Scribner's Scrib- Scrib ners ner's magazine all nil tattered an and splotched It was an ln old copy as ns mos most of ot our magazines are arc Theres Therus a n poem In there ho he said sallI Its called To th the Beloved of or One Dead Doad Its It's true Read Rea ReadI I It to After ACter I had myself In th the kennel In the side of the trench any and had iad scooped od out a a. hole in tho the wall fo foa for foi foia fora a candle I started turning tho the pages This Is what hat I camo across The sunlight shall not easily seem eem fatTo fat fair To you again Knowing the tho hand which once amid amil your hair Did stray so BO maddeningly Now listlessly Is beaten Into mire by the summer rain I think I r said Good Lord My y tele tele- looked up and asked What did dk you oU say air Nothing I answered etl The poem was by a woman I forgot ot to noLice no no- Lice her bier name Its It's too late Into now But how did she living In America man manaGO manage manago aGO age to something which she he had not scon seen concerning which we who wh havo h a avo soon seen It are inarticulate |