The recruit from Ireland spent his leave in England. Asked on his return to the front what he thought of the place, he said:
“Faith, London is a great city; but it’s no place for a poor man unless he has plenty of money.”
A Belgian farmer saved his bacon in an unusual way. He heard that the Germans were coming, so he killed and dressed his one pig, cleaned it, put it into his bed with only a part of the underface exposed, and put a lighted candle at each side of the bed. When the Germans arrived an officer entered the house, went into the room, saw what he believed to be a member of the family laid out for burial, saluted and went out!
Arthur Train, the novelist, put down a German newspaper at the Century Club, in New York, with an impatient grunt.
“It says here,” he explained, “that it is Germany who will speak the last word in this war.”
Then the novelist laughed angrily and added:
“Yes, Germany will speak the last word in the war, and that last word will be ‘Kamerad!’”
They have some exceptional letters in the London “Family Separation” office, which looks after the families of soldiers at the front. These are all actual letters received:
“Dear Sir—You have changed my little boy into a little girl. Will it make any difference?
“My Bill has been put in charge of a spittoon. Will I get more pay?” [“Platoon” was meant.]
“I am glad to tell you that my husband has been reported dead.”
“If I don’t get my husband’s money soon I shall be compelled to go on the streets and lead an Imortal life.”
“Dear Sir—In accordance with instructions on paper, I have given birth to a daughter last week.
“Yes, sah,” said one negro, “a friend of mine who knows all about it says dis heah man Edison has done gone and invented a magnetized bullet dat can’t miss a German, kase ef dere’s one in a hundred yards de bullet is drawn right smack against his steel helmet. Yes, sah, an’ he’s done invented another one with a return attachment. Whenever dat bullet don’t hit nothin’ it comes right straight back to de American lines.”
“Dat’s what I call inventin’,” exclaimed his colored listener. “But how about dem comin’-back bullets? What do dey do to keep ’em from hittin’ ouah men when dey come back?”
“Well, Mr. Edison made ’em so he’s got ’em trained. You don’t s’pose he’d let ’em kill any Americans, do you? No, sah. He’s got ’em fixet so’s dey jes’ ease back down aroun’ de gunner’s feet an’ sort o’ say: ‘Dey’s all dead in dat trench, boss. Send me to a live place where I’se got a chancet to do somethin’.’”