Say What You Will, Nothing Can Make

Swinging First And Swinging To Kill Is All That Matters Now.

The Closest Fires Were Near Enough For Us To Hear The Crackling Flames And The Yells Of Firemen. Little Fires Grew Into Big Ones Even As We Watched. Big Ones Died Down Under The Firemen's Valor Only To Break Out Again Later.

About Every Two Minutes A New Wave Of Planes Would Be Over. The Motors Seemed To Grind Rather Than Roar, And To Have An Angry Pulsation Like A Bee Buzzing In Blind Fury.

Someday When Peace Has Returned To This Odd World I Want To Come To London Again And Stand On A Certain Balcony On A Moonlit Night And Look Down Upon The Peaceful Silver Curve Of The Thames With Its Dark Bridges.

Our Artillery Has Really Been Sensational. For Once We Have Enough Of Something And At The Right Time. Officers Tell Me They Actually Have More Guns Than They Know What To Do With.