It was impossible
for me not to conjure up Guynemer alive and even full of life, Guynemer
chasing the enemy with strained terrible eyes, Guynemer of the
superhuman will, the Guynemer who never gave up,--in short, a Guynemer
whom death could not vanquish.
A wonderful atmosphere men breathe here, for it relieves death of its
horror. One officer, Raymond, I think, said in a careless manner:
"Guynemer's fate will be ours, of course."
Somebody protested: "The country needs men like you."
To which Deullin answered: "Why does it? There will be others after us,
and the life we lead...."
But Captain d'Harcourt broke in gaily: "Come on; dinner's ready--and
with this bright moon and clear sky we are sure to get bombed."
Bombed, indeed, we were, and pretty severely, but in convenient time,
for we had just drunk our coffee. A few minutes before, the practiced
ear of one of us had caught the sound of the _bimoulins_, the bi-motor
German airplanes, and soon they were near. We gained the sheltering
trench. But the night was so entrancingly pure, with the moon riding
like an airship in the deep space, that it seemed to promise peace and
invited us to enjoy the spectacle.
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