——————————
WAR THE CREATOR
——————————
WAR~THE
CREATOR
BY ~ GELETT
BURGESS ~ ~ ~
New York B. W. HUEBSCH 1916
Copyright, 1915, By P. F. Collier & Son, Inc.
Copyright, 1916, by B. W. Huebsch
War the Creator was first printed in
Collier’s. Acknowledgment is made to that
weekly for permission to publish the story
in volume form.
PRINTED IN U. S. A.
WAR THE CREATOR
I
BECAUSE he was my friend, because hewas so lovable, because he sufferedmuch, I want to try to tell the story of a boywho, in two months, became a man. Myhero is Georges Cucurou, the son of a shoe-makerof Toulouse. I happened to see himfirst just before the war began, and not againuntil after he had been wounded; and thechange in him was then so great that I couldnot rest until I had learned how it had beenbrought about. Georges is but one of thethousands who have gone into that furnaceof patriotism; in France such experiences ashis are commonplace now, but when I heard6his story I got a glimpse of war in a newaspect. Before, I had thought of it only asstupid, destructive, dire; now, in his illuminedface, I saw the work of War the Creator.
His narrative is concerned with only thefirst six weeks of the fighting, and mostly withthat terrible retreat from Belgium, so bitterin its disappointments, so trying to the flamboyantcourage of the French. Hardlyhad they rallied along the Marne andbegun to pursue the enemy when Georgeswas wounded and invalided home. It wasthere in the hospital that I got his history;and from those talks, and his notebook, andhis letters to his aunt, I have reconstructedthe trials and emotions of this lad of twenty.
II
Georges, having commenced his regularthree years’ military service in October, 1913,7got leave to visit his aunt who was keepinga pension in Paris.
How shy and confused he was when Icame down to the dining-room that day andsurprised him while he was examining his too-faintmustache with great seriousness beforethe mirror! Charming, I thought him, instantly;a clean, jolly sort of boy, quite tooyoung for that ridiculous soldier’s uniform.
His aunt introduced him (with her armabout his shoulder and a tweak of his ear) byhis nickname, “Coco”; and, after he gotused to my being a foreigner, he began totalk, using his big brown eyes and his free,expressive hands quite as much as his tongue.Knowing a little of the Midi, I attempted animitation of the patois. Coco threw backhis head and laughed with abandon. Thatbroke the ice, and we became great friends.
He was so curious about everythingAmer