k
is still fresh.

Who are the true heroes of the war?

Our fighting men are cheered in the streets; every newspaper and
magazine sings their praise; every shop-window reflects their needs;
in theatre, pulpit, and workshop their praises are sung.

But are they the real heroes of the war?

Ask the fighting man himself. Speak to him of his wife or mother, and
the expression on his face will answer your question.

There is no one to sing her praise, no one to paint the picture of her
deeds; no one to tell of that lonely feeling when her hero departs and
the door is closed behind him.

The fighting man looks upon his share of the war with a light heart.
Events come too rapidly upon him to feel depressed. He does not feel
the gnawing hunger of the lonely wait; the emptiness of the world when
the parting is over; the empty chair at the table, and the rooms made
cheerless by his absence.

There is no one to describe the terrors of the morning casualty list;
the hourly expectation and frozen fear of the telegraph boy's "rat
tat," bringing some dreadful news.

There are no crowds to cheer her; no flags or trumpets to rouse her
enthusiasm and occupy her thoughts. No constant activity, thrilling
excitement, desperate encounter.

Hers is a silent patriotism. She is the true hero of the war. And in
hundreds of thousands of homes throughout the empire, her silent
deeds, her wonderful fortitude, are making the womanhood of Britain a
history which medals will not reward, nor scars display.

The fighting men know it, and when you cheer them, they know that
there is still one at home who deserves your cheers, yet will not hear
them; and who will seek no greater reward than the safe return of her
own hero amid the applause which greets their homecoming.

Fighting men acknowledge it! And when your ears are no longer deafened
by the cheers of others, take off your caps, fill your lungs, and
cheer to the echo the real heroes of the war.

All honour to the woman who waits.

CHAPTER III

DEPARTURE FOR THE FRONT

WATERLOO STATION. LUNCHEON ARGUMENTS. THE BAGGAGE PROBLEM

Waterloo Station in war time presents a picture of unending interest.
Here it is that a thousand dramas are acted daily. It is one huge
scene of bustle and excitement. The khaki of the soldier, the blue of
the sailor; the mother, the wife, the sweetheart; the sad partings,
the joyful greetings. The troops entraining, spick and span in their
new war