menu_book Chapter 5

Chapter 5 of Grace Harlow with the Marines at Chateau Thierry by Jesse Gray and Flower. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Recording by Ashley Jane. Chapter 5. Old Friends and New Grace Harlow Gray, I take off my hat to you, observed J. Alfreda Briggs a few moments later

after the others had offered their hearty congratulations. How can you take off your hat when you have no hat to take off? retorted Grace, now her own self again. I have read of great deeds of heroism of men and women of the last dozen centuries, more or less, and of men willingly sacrificing their lives

in hopes of winning the decoration that you now wear, but... Yes, go on, urged Grace smilingly. I'll say that it is the first time I ever heard of a grateful government awarding a decoration for leading a lot of horses out of a gully. Instead of a croix de guerre with a star, you should have been awarded the palm.

Please, please don't, Alfreda, begged Grace, her face suddenly sobering. It isn't right. It isn't like you to speak like that. Why? "'I—' Elfrida stooped over and imprinted an impulsive kiss on her friend's tanned forehead. "'Forgive me, dear loyal heart,' she murmured. "'I was but trying to cheer you up, to pull you out of your blue funk,

"'for I know what a sad trial it must be, "'to one to be singled out by a great government as one of the heroes of this world war.' "'Grace's face relaxed and she laughed merrily. "'Dear old J. Elfrida, you were such a comfort. "'And, at times, such an intolerable nuisance,' added Grace teasingly,

one hand patting J. Alfreda's head, the other hand gripping the shaggy head of Reddy, the red cross dog that had stood rigidly near Grace during the brief ceremony. "'So that was your secret, Alfreda. You see how impossible it is for you to wear an innocent expression when you have a weighty secret on your mind.'

That same day other good tidings came to the Overton ambulance driver. There were letters from home and a long one from Tom, full of cheer and optimism as to the future. In the postscript to the letter Tom wrote, In writing to me hereafter, please address your letters to Lieutenant Thomas Gray.

Co. B. That was all. Tom said not a word about his promotion, and Grace was left to guess what he had done to earn it. But this she learned from another source a few moments later.

It was Emma Dean's delightful letter that told Grace what she so much wanted to know. My darling Grace, began Emma, I call you darling but you aren't my darling at all. The greatest thing in the world has happened, loyal heart, and what do you think it is? Don't breathe a word of it, but Williams has proposed to me, and yes, I have accepted him provisionally, providing I do not find anyone that I like better.

Oh, I didn't tell you, did I? This isn't the William you know, the lieutenant that you did not like. No, this is another William, and I call him William II to distinguish him from the other William. William II also is a lieutenant, a first lieutenant, and he is not an SOS lieutenant either. He has fit and bled for his country and is in Paris recuperating from his wounds. Isn't that glorious?

He is the finest fellow in the world. Tom Gray not accepted. The girls here, Arlene Thayer, Mabel Ash, Ruth Denton and the others all send love. Miriam at present is with her husband Everett Southard. He is here getting some new players to entertain the soldiers in the rest billets.

And Hippie, how wonderful it was that you witnessed his battle in the air with a German flyer. Since receiving your letter, I have heard a lot of things about a lot of people, some of whom you were interested in. You know in my position as a telephone worker in the AEF, I hear many things, but of course I never speak of them.

Well, what I heard about Whippy Wingate is a scream. It seems that Hippie was decorated by the French when he became an ace. It was a French general who pinned the decoration on Hippie's manly breast, and then, as is customary with the Frenchman, he kissed Hippie on either cheek. What do you suppose Hippie did then?

You couldn't guess in a million years. Hippie, not to be outdone, kissed the French general back, kissed him full on the lips, at the same time slapping him on the back. Wasn't that awful? I heard an American officer telling the story to another officer on the wire.

He said the doughboys who saw it nearly caused a riot with their howls, and the French officer was so shocked that at first he nearly swooned, but that after recovering himself he laughed. I guess he must have been used to the pranks of those wild Indians of the flying corpse. Of course, having heard the story over the wire, I mustn't say anything about it.

Oh, by the way, Grace, I heard something else, something about a friend of yours, a very near and dear friend. It was only yesterday that the story came in over the wire, my wire, and I just couldn't wait until I told you. Well, this is the story.

It seems that a young sergeant had been fighting a German machine gun crew, fighting them with a dozen or so of his men. They had come upon this machine gunnist rather unexpectedly, and there was a regular duel until the machine gun had either killed or wounded every blessed man of his crew. What did the silly sergeant do?

run away he did not snatching up a spade he went after the machine gun outfit with a yell they say he was actually rude to them for he smashed in their helmets and the heads of those who didn't run away then turned the machine gun on the fellows who were running until they stopped running For this he was promoted to a lieutenant. Who do you suppose it is? Why, you silly, it was Tom Gray, your gentle husband. I hope my William never becomes such a roughneck as they call them in the army.

Grace Harlow, I feel sorry for you when you and Tom get back to civil life. Just think of having a husband who, when he becomes enraged, goes after people with a spade. War is a queer thing anyway. Back home in the States they hang you out when you kill someone But over here for the same act they pin a medal on you and say well done do it again

David Nesbitt, Lieutenant David Nesbitt Is in a hospital at Vicky with a machine gun bullet wound in one leg And Reddy Brooks so I hear Has had two ships sunk under him Having been twice torpedoed by the Huns

War is such a gentle pastime sorry I can't tell you anything about what I have heard over the telephone wires Arlene had a letter from Eleanor Cervelli the other day and Eleanor wishes you to write to her she too is in Red Cross work in Italy

have you seen your friend Nora Wingate she is in a Salvation Army canteen somewhere on the American front your old chum Jessica Bright is in YMCA work stationed near the hospital at Vicky That is about all the news I have, most of it received over the wire

But, as I have already said, I am forbidden to reveal anything I hear in that way When are you coming to Paris? I had a letter from Anne Pearson last week She, as you undoubtedly know, is still doing entertainment work in the hospital Where you kicked up such a rumpus

Too bad you can't keep out of trouble But you were just that way at Overton Some day you are going to bite off a big mouthful of candy and find it isn't candy at all Let me hear from you I'm just dying to have you meet William II

Lovingly, Emma Grace, at the first opportunity, got Elfrida off in the grounds and there read Emma Dean's letter Both girls laughed until they were on the verge of hysteria especially over Emma's description of the decoration of the irrepressible hippie Wingate From that day they wandered back to the Overton College days and lived those happy days over again

until it came time for Alfreda to return to her work in the hospital. Grace too, during those convalescent days, spent many hours with the wounded men, chatting with them, writing letters for them and easing their sufferings with her happy smile and her gentle ministrations. Saturday morning came and with it orders for Grace to resume her ambulance work. though the orders were tempered with a restriction the general in command of the sector at chateau thierry had issued orders that no women drivers be permitted to go nearer to the front than the field hospital

Major Hughes conveyed this order to Grace. You say General Bridges issued that order? Questioned Grace. Yes, I believe so. Did he know that it was I who was wounded the other day?

I cannot say as to that. All I know about it, Mrs. Gray, is that the orders were transmitted to me by Colonel Bates as coming direct from the General. Thank you. You, of course, will obey the order.

Certainly. Until I get the order rescinded. added grace with a smile a few moments later grace harlow was at the wheel of her beloved elizabeth g on her way to the field hospital to evacuate some patients and take them back to the nearest base hospital it was good to be driving again and it was pleasant to be hailed joyously

by other ambulance drivers that she passed that day midway between the evacuation hospital and the field hospital, Grace had frequently observed a Salvation Army hut, but she had always been in too big a hurry to stop. On that Saturday morning she stopped almost in front of the hut, not because she wished to do so, but because she had picked up a puncture. Grace sprang out and got out her hammer and jack, and had begun jacking up the rear axle, when two French soldiers appeared on the

scene, gesticulating and exclaiming, Non, non, non. They gently thrust her aside and began making the repairs for her. Grace thanked them very sweetly and chatted with them in French. Then she suddenly stopped to listen to a rich contralto voice that was raised in song in the Salvation Hut, singing a Salvation Army song. That voice! Oh, that voice! breathed Grace Harlow, and with a bound she was at the door of the hut peering in. The voice belonged to an old, old friend,

and its owner was singing to a room full of marines and a few Frenchmen in her really wonderful voice. "'Nora O'Malley!' exclaimed Grace. Then, gloved and helmeted as she was, she stepped into the hut and stood gazing steadily at Hippie Wingate's wife, the Nora O'Malley of those far-away Oakdale days. It was the same Nora that Grace had known so long ago, a little more matured but Nora just the same. At first Nora merely glanced at the

newcomer, for Grace's steel helmet rather hid her face, then she bent a closer look at the woman who was standing there. Grace saw the colour recede from the face of her old schoolmate, to be replaced a moment later by a rush of colour as the Overton girl made a sharp salute. Grace Harlow! The Marines were startled, for the music had gone out of Nora's voice, which uttered the words almost shrilly. There was a rush, and a few seconds later Nora was hugging and mauling Grace almost roughly.

Don't mind her, buddies, gasped Grace. She gets these spells occasionally. Whereat there was a great laugh. There were men among those weather-beaten leathernecks who knew Grace by sight and reputation, knew something of her accomplishments, and how she won the cross of war that was rising and falling on her breast, and they set up a cheer for her, which pleased the young ambulance driver

and brought to her face her sweetest smile. Never mind me, Nora. Just go on with your singing, urged Grace. No more singing for Nora O'Malley today, buddies, cried Nora. You must let me get acquainted with me friend. It's these many a long day since I saw her.

Wait, I'll send some of the girls to you. She ran out and was back in a moment with two Salvation lasses, to whom she turned over her friends, the Marines. Then Nora led Grace to a comfortable rear room where she lived and cooked on an old American cook stove,

and there for an hour the two girls talked. Grace read Emma Dean's letter to Nora, who threw up her hands in despair when Grace read how Hippie had kissed the French general and roared with merriment over Emma Dean's descriptions of other incidents. Grace finally declared that she must be on her way, that she was on duty and would not be

there at that moment were it not for the fortunate puncture. Nora urged her to come and stay at the Salvation Hut but Grace said she could not do so without permission. It was then that Nora gave her some welcome news. The ambulance corpse was to be moved up in quarters near the Salvation Army hut that the cars might be nearer to the line. Then again the place was fairly well protected and seldom shelled by the enemy. Nora said she had it from a driver that morning and showed Grace the

tents that had been erected for the corpse together with a little repair shop for their cars. Three days later the shift was made and Grace was permitted to make her headquarters in the rear room of the Salvation Hut, where she had many happy visits with Nora Wingate, and frequent calls from officers and men, to each of whom she was the brightest star in the firmament. It was a rainy afternoon, about a week after her arrival at the hut, after hours of driving

through mud and storm, skidding and slipping with many narrow escapes from being overturned, that Grace, in her stockinged feet, sat before the kitchen stove in the Salvation Hut, with her feet resting on a stick of wood in the oven. The room was in the litter and the back door was open with frequent gusts of wind and rain driving in, for Grace cared more for air than she did for a stuffy room. Suddenly Nora poked her head in from the canteen. A caller, Grace, announced Nora in a

stage whisper. He's one of those gold-stripe fellows. Phew, but he is some crank. I sent him around the back way, saying which Nora slammed the door shut and Grace waited, smiling to herself, for she had an idea who her caller was. Mrs. Gray? questioned a gruff voice at the open door. Oh yes, come right in, General Bridges, invited Grace unemotionally without removing her feet from the oven, but turning sufficiently to extend her hand and smile up into the weather-beaten

face of the visiting officer. I just learned today where you were and I drove over to see you for a moment. Do you mind if I close the door? Surely not, General. If you can find a place, sit down and make yourself as comfortable as possible. I will. He moved over to close the door and Grace chuckled to herself. Our General is going to get a surprise, she murmured, and in the next instant the General did. As he swung the door shut, he revealed a man behind it.

The man was one of General Bridges' younger aides, and the aide was industriously greasing Grace Harlow's boots. End of chapter 5