the dirt
that fell from the parapet back of me. I had sense and strength enough
to dig myself out. When I got out I was kind of dazed. The captain
told me to go back to the rear. I started back through the
communication-trench and got lost. The next thing I knew I was
wandering around in the darkness shakin' like a leaf."

Then there was the California boy. I had known him before. It was he
who almost gave me a case of shell-shock. The last time I saw him he
was standing on a platform addressing a crowd of young church people in
California. And there he was, his six foot three shaking from head to
foot like an old man with palsy, and stuttering every word he spoke.
He had been sent to the hospital at Amiens with a case of acute
appendicitis. The first night he was in the hospital the Germans
bombed it and destroyed it. They took him out and put him on a train
for Paris. This train had only gotten a few miles out of Amiens when
the Germans shelled it and destroyed two cars.

"After that I began to shake," he said simply.

"No wonder, man; who wouldn't shake after that?" I said. Then I asked
him if he had had his operation yet.

"It can't be done until I quit shaking."

"When will you quit?" I asked, with a smile.

"Oh, we're all getting better, much better; we'll be out of here in a
few months; they all get better; 90 per cent of us get back in the
trenches."

And that is the silver lining to this Silhouette Spiritual. The
doctors say that a very large percentage of them get back.

"We call ourselves the 'First American Shock Troops,'" my friend from
the West said with a grin.

"I guess you are 'shock troops,' all right. I know one thing, and that
is that you would give your folks back home a good shock if they saw
you."

Then we all laughed. Laughter was in the air. I have never met
anywhere in France such a happy, hopeful, cheerful crowd as that bunch
of shell-shocked boys. It was contagious. I went there to cheer them
up, and I got cheered up. I went there to give them strength, and came
away stronger than when I went in. It would cheer the hearts of all
Americans to take a peep into that room; if they could see the souls
back of the trembling bodies; if they could get beyond the first shock
of those trembling bodies and stuttering tongues. And, after all, that
is what America must learn to do, to get beyond, and to see beyond, the
wounds, into the soul of the boy; to see beyond the