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    Where the Sabots Clatter Again
    Where the Sabots Clatter Again
    Where the Sabots Clatter Again
    Ebook52 pages32 minutes

    Where the Sabots Clatter Again

    By Katherine Shortall

    ()

    Read preview
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherArchive Classics
    Release dateJan 1, 2008
    Where the Sabots Clatter Again

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      Book preview

      Where the Sabots Clatter Again - Katherine Shortall

      Project Gutenberg's Where the Sabots Clatter Again, by Katherine Shortall

      This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with

      almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or

      re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included

      with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.net

      Title: Where the Sabots Clatter Again

      Author: Katherine Shortall

      Release Date: July 29, 2004 [EBook #13048]

      Language: English

      *** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WHERE THE SABOTS CLATTER AGAIN ***

      This eBook was produced by Steven desJardins and Distributed

      Proofreaders.

      The Radcliffe Unit in France collaborated with the French Red Cross in its work of reconstruction after the Armistice. It was as a member of this unit and as chauffeuse in the devastated regions that the writer received the impressions set forth in these sketches.

      Where the Sabots Clatter Again

      by Katherine Shortall

      Ralph Fletcher Seymour

      Publisher

      410 S. Michigan Avenue

      Chicago

      PUBLISHED FOR THE BENEFIT OF THE RADCLIFFE COLLEGE ENDOWMENT FUND IN AN EDITION LIMITED TO 150 COPIES

      SECOND EDITION OF 150 COPIES

      1921

      CONTENTS

      THE BRIDE OF NOYON

      LITTLE GRAINS OF SAND

      VAUCHELLES

      WHERE THE SABOTS CLATTER AGAIN.

      THE BRIDE OF NOYON.

      A returning flush upon the plain. Streaks of color across a mangled landscape: the gentle concealment of shell hole and trench. This is what one saw, even in the summer of 1919. For the sap was running, and a new invasion was occurring. Legions of tender blades pushed over the haggard No Man's Land, while reckless poppies scattered through the ranks of green, to be followed by the shyer starry sisters in blue and white. Irrepressibly these floral throngs advanced over the shell torn spaces, crowding, mingling and bending together in a rainbow riot beneath the winds that blew them. They were the vanguard.

      In the midst of the reviving fields lay Noyon: Noyon, that gem of the Oise, whose delicate outline of spires and soft tinted roofs had graced the wide valley for centuries. Today the little city lay blanched and shapeless between the hills, as all towns were left that stood in the path of the armies. The cathedral alone reared its battered bulk in the midst; a resisting pile, its two grim and blunted towers frowning into the sky. Nobly Gothic through all the shattering, the great church rose out of the wreckage, with flying buttresses still outspread like brooding wings to the dead houses that had sunk about her.

      But Noyon was not dead. We of the Red Cross knew that. We knew that

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