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In our small town, every breast burned with the holy fire of patriotism. Drums beat, bands played, toy pistols popped, firecrackers hissed and spluttered. On every street, a fluttering wilderness of flags flashed in the sun.
A half dozen rash dissenters dared to disapprove of the war and cast doubt on its righteousness. But they right away got such a stern and angry warning that they quickly shrank from sight and offended no more.
Sunday morning came and our church was filled. It was the day before the battalions would leave for the front.
The minister read a war chapter from the Old Testament
God the all-terrible! Thou who ordainest, Thunder thy clarion and lightning thy sword!
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