. The American Legion Weekly [Volume 4, No. 33 (August 18, 1922)]. —but to our post he was a doc-tors patient and a blessing What Bill Did for Our Post By the Post Adjutant board moves toward the United States. Bill was gassed a little and shell-shocked a lot. Then there was thatright hand that itched all the time, yetwhen he scratched—the hand wasntthere. Night after night he lay on hiswhite cot at Savenay and later at Brestand blinked foolishly at the night or-derlys shaded lamp. His brain buzzedall the time, like a blue-bottle flybouncing lazily on a sunshiny windowpane. Gangrene was in the
. The American Legion Weekly [Volume 4, No. 33 (August 18, 1922)]. —but to our post he was a doc-tors patient and a blessing What Bill Did for Our Post By the Post Adjutant board moves toward the United States. Bill was gassed a little and shell-shocked a lot. Then there was thatright hand that itched all the time, yetwhen he scratched—the hand wasntthere. Night after night he lay on hiswhite cot at Savenay and later at Brestand blinked foolishly at the night or-derlys shaded lamp. His brain buzzedall the time, like a blue-bottle flybouncing lazily on a sunshiny windowpane. Gangrene was in the stump when hearrived in the United States and thesurgeons amputated again, just belowthe elbow. Bill didnt mind; what werea few inches one way or another?. Because Bills humming brain sentstrange thoughts spilling off histongue, he went to the nut ward,where all that could be done wasdone; it wasnt much. But he did get better and waslooking forward to going homewhen gangrene again settled inwhat was left of the stump andsent him to the operating time they took his arm off atthe elbow. Curses intermixed with cries forstretcher bearers bubbled from hislips as his brain shivered from thenew shock. Again his rugged con-stitution helped him and soon hewas sent home in the hope thatfamiliar sights would heal hismind. But they didnt. He left thetown—you would know it if I toldyou the name—and finally driftedinto Our Town. He got a job ina factory. There the noise of thepulleys and clash of steel was toomuch. So he quit and spent mostof his time walking the streets, afamiliar figure in his baggy trou-sers and worn forest-green tunic. One day an affable stranger in-vited him for a ride in an auto-mobile. Together they drove
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Keywords: ., bookauthoramerican, bookcentury1900, bookdecade1920, bookyear1922
