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Gardener’s “Long Essay” on Cold War History, an H-Diplo essay
-1-
ESSAYS
“LONG ESSAY”
ON COLDWAR HISTORY
Lloyd Gardner, Rutgers University
A Brief Note to Readers:
When H-Diplo commissioned Lloyd Gardner to write a review of John
Lewis Gaddis’s book We Now Know, the result was this lengthy and wideranging
essay on Cold War history. Professor Gardner’s “Long Essay”
originally appeared in five parts on the H-Diplo list.
John Lewis Gaddis. We Now Know: Rethinking Cold War History. New York: Oxford
University Press, 1997. Pp. x, 425. $30.00 ISBN 0-19-878070-2.
Reviewed for H-Diplo by Lloyd Gardner, October 1997.
erhaps I should begin by advising subscribers that what follows is not really a book review
in the usual sense; it is more of a meditation on the issues raised and arguments put
forward in John Gaddis’ new book. I assume the editors had something like this in mind
when they invited me to contribute. And I also assume, perhaps unfairly, that H-Diplo faithful
have already read several reviews of We Now Know, if not the book itself. Those preliminaries
out of the way, we may turn to the central proposition.
Imagine how the history of World War II would have looked, John Gaddis asks readers, had
historians been forced to stop writing in 1942? But that was the case with historians of the Cold
War, many of whom, it is suggested here (and in Gaddis’ other writings), ventured too far out on
shaky revisionist limbs. Everyone must now recognize, he points out, that previous efforts
(orthodox and revisionist alike) to come to grips with the origins and progress of the Cold War
were deeply flawed because we didn’t know what secrets the Soviet archives contained. Only
now--after the Cold War has actually become “history”--can we proceed to assess the
motivations of the participants properly.
This is a thought-provoking assertion. How broad and exclusive is it meant to be? Still more
challenging is the matter of whether it is access to archives or how the Cold War “came out” that
permits us to evaluate evidence of motivations. Let us leave the second for later consideration.
There were actually a number of books on the background to World War II written without
archival access that still repay attentive reading. John Wheeler-Bennett’s Munich comes to
mind, as does a very different sort of book, Franz Neumann’s Behemoth. They are useful
examples, dealing, of course, in the former instance with the climactic months before the
outbreak of war, and in the latter with an interpretation of the Nazi system itself. And there are
P
Gardener’s “Long Essay” on Cold War History, an H-Diplo essay
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others, for example, Paul Schroeder’s study, The Axis Alliance and Japanese-American
Relations, 1941, an exceptionally acute evaluation of policymakers’ thinking that relied on
analysis of the Magic intercepts and the Pearl Harbor Hearings. Later this month, Richard
Overy’s Russia’s War: Blood Upon the Snow, based almost entirely on print sources (including
document collections and memoirs), will be published, giving us a challengingly new
interpretation of Stalin’s personality and its role in shaping Soviet foreign policies. Are these
outdated by new finds in the archives? Yes, surely, especially in the first three examples, but
historians usually work at their craft by a layering process. As a rule, we are skeptical of notions
that something like a cache of letters in a French monastery will overturn our general
understanding of the nature of feudalism. Perhaps it is this quality that accounts for the rather
later maturation of historians as compared to our brethren in the “hard sciences.”
In that vein, what are we to conclude about even a tentative claim that the volume and value of
the archival materials recently extracted from the iceberg-like Russian archives are such as to
reconfigure the American side of the Cold War as well? Or, even more ambitiously, a
conclusion that there was only one side to the Cold War? While the outpouring of documents
from Russia and China supporting the “new” Cold War history, as Gaddis describes his and other
recent writings, may now have reached “if not a flood, at least a substantial inundation,” we
might pause just a moment at the outset to consider the numbers involved and the provenance or
context of many of these materials, especially in the light of such strong claims. The numbers,
we can probably agree,--as compared to the limited number of sources for students of ancient
history say--are quite large, but compared to what remains unearthed--are minuscule, far less,
certainly, than what is open at a single presidential library in the United States, or, indeed, than
what has been printed in just a few volumes in the Foreign Relations of the United States series.
This is not to minimize the importance of the new documentation. But history, it bears
repeating, is a layering process. Discovery of new sources leads us like painstaking
cartographers to construct more accurate perceptions of global complexity.
Historical observation also asks us, like geographers, to contextualize. We now have one or two
reasonable dates for ending the Cold War. Do we have similar agreement about when it began?
Gaddis finds, for example, that Stalin’s “propensity for cold wars” was firmly rooted long before
he met, or even heard of, Harry Truman. (We Now Know, p. 294.) Propensity, one supposes he
means but without opportunity until the end of World War II removed the obstacles to
opportunity. But even that contention brings with it the question of when the Cold War started,
if not why. And the opening of Russian archives for the early post-revolutionary years has
enabled other historians to posit the Cold War’s origins in a mutual antagonism between Lenin’s
debt-repudiating (in the broadest sense) regime and a fearful West that sometimes turned to
fascism (however fearfully or distastefully) as a buffer against the twin dangers of war and social
upheaval. It is asserted, indeed, that a better way of understanding the sequence of tragic events
than arguing the results of the Second World War produced the Cold War, would be to put it the
other way around: The “early” Cold War produced World War II, not all by itself, of course, but
in conjunction with the related forces of depression and paralyzing internal division.
David S. Foglesong, who used both new Russian documents gleaned from Moscow archives, as
well as manuscript material from neglected repositories in this country, makes a powerful case
that America’s role in the “intervention” was not restricted to several thousand troops in Siberia,
Gardener’s “Long Essay” on Cold War History, an H-Diplo essay
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“It was the aftermath at the
1922 Genoa Conference that
set the agenda for East-West
‘relations’ in the interwar
period.”
nor to the purposes declared, but involved using secret agents as well in schemes to bring down
the regime. When the intervention failed, the early Cold War began. To reformulate Gaddis’
conclusion, a Western propensity for Cold Wars was there before Herbert Hoover or Charles
Evans Hughes had ever heard of Joseph Stalin. (David S. Foglesong, America’s Secret War
Against Bolshevism: U.S. Intervention in the Russian Civil War, 1917-1920, Chapel Hill, 1995.)
The West’s attitude toward the heretics more than fulfilled the predictions Bolshevik leaders
endlessly propagandized about inevitable responses to their revolution. In this sense, Stalin
came to power in medias res, and used that evidence of animosity to further his own personal
ambitions--but the record also reveals his determination to dominate the Comintern to prevent its
firebrands from getting in the way of Russian recovery. In this he was going at least part way
towards meeting Western concerns. His key decisions were thus hardly the products of solipsist
illusions denying reality. Even more than the military intervention against the Bolsheviks, it was
the aftermath at the 1922 Genoa Conference that set the agenda for East-West “relations” in the
interwar period. It was at that conference, which the United States refused even to attend, that
the Soviet delegates were presented with a list of demands that they re-do the revolution to put
back in place the “rules” of capitalist behavior, and then—perhaps—recognition and aid would
be forthcoming. The West even had additional demands for repayment of war loans that would
have put Russia into a receivership not unlike (in some ways more stringent than) the prewar
Bankers’ Consortium program for containing
the Chinese Revolution at the end of the classical
age of imperialism. As Prime Minister David
Lloyd George--whose cajolery skills failed him
this time when Washington stood aloof--
feared would happen, the Russians bolted the
Genoa Conference and rowed across the lake to
Rapallo—to a fateful meeting with
representatives of the other pariah state,
Germany. Perhaps it was not a missed opportunity, but more than anything else Genoa revealed
that the West was bitterly divided internally, and had no policy towards the revolution except
fear and outdated assumptions. Inside Russia, Genoa aided those who argued for isolation and
forced industrialization. (For elaboration, see Lloyd C. Gardner, Safe for Democracy: The
Anglo-American Response to Revolution, 1913-1923, New York, 1984, pp. 340-44.)
Little changed over the next twenty years. Munich and the Nazi-Soviet pact were confirmations
of earlier maneuvers begun at Genoa. In a spate of recent articles, Michael Jabara Carley carries
the argument from the 1920s into the “low, dishonest” decade of appeasement. Like Foglesong,
Carley has already spent a good deal of time in various Moscow archives. He never excuses the
Soviet Union, nor does he attempt a moral equivalency argument, but he does use new archival
materials from Moscow (and Paris and London) to bolster the case that Stalin’s foreign policies
were essentially pragmatic responses to a world riven by ideological confrontation. The
experiences of those years were not washed away by a war that began, in Soviet eyes, after a
failed effort to “appease” Germany in the West. Chamberlain and Stalin both fell for “peace in
our time.” Anglo-French policymakers were obsessed with the thought that Moscow wanted to
lure the West into a war with the purpose of spreading Communism across Europe. It may be
remembered as well that Washington’s undiplomatic first ambassador to the Soviet Union,
Gardener’s “Long Essay” on Cold War History, an H-Diplo essay
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William C. Bullitt, fully shared in that belief, moved to Paris by Roosevelt, spent most of his
time discouraging and dispelling French belief in any American support for a stand against
Germany, and then urging Roosevelt at the time of Munich to get in touch with the British and
German ambassadors to convince them that the world of Shakespeare and Beethoven had
nothing in common with the inhabitants of lands east of the Polish marshes. (Among Carley’s
many articles, several are directly on this subject, see, for example, “The Early Cold War, 1917-
1939,” Relevance, Fall, 1996, pp. 6-11; and, “End of the ‘Low, Dishonest Decade’: Failure of the
Anglo-Franco -Soviet Alliance in 1939,” Europe-Asia Studies, vol. 45, 1993, pp. 303-41.)
During the war the Russians were excluded from any meaningful role in the precedent-setting
Italian surrender and its aftermath. Churchill and Stalin then agreed at the Tolstoy Conference
that they would respect a dividing line across Europe, Russia to protect its expanded security
zone in Eastern Europe, Churchill to secure breathing space for the reconstruction of warravaged
political institutions. It was a deeply flawed arrangement, as was its successor Yalta.
The nonsense of sharing out spheres of influence on some spur of the moment ratios had little
rationale beyond exigency, but there was plenty of that. There were, to start with, many
asymmetries between the countries to the East and West of the Tolstoy/Yalta lines. By and large
the nations with democratic traditions were in the West, those lacking such an advantage were in
the East. Western Europe was industrial; Eastern Europe agricultural. And so on. But both
sides of Europe had experienced years of internal political conflict between left and right. And
that conflict was what Stalin and Churchill were trying to bring under control, by shielding their
spheres of influence from external agitation, lest the forces of nationalism join with ideology to
produce chaos.
All very well, Gaddis might argue (or might not), but one needs to confront the Stalin problem.
A second major contention of We Now Know is that historians cannot escape this towering figure
of evil. But what was the true nature of this evil? Unfortunately, for revisionist interpretations
that posit a ruthless, but essentially cautious Stalin, it is multiplex—with as many theaters as a
modern Loews or UA. In one we see Stalin the heir to Ivan the Terrible, in another Marx’s
disciple plots the world revolution, in a third a Freudian Stalin nurses his grievances against the
capitalist world, in a fourth Stalin . . . well, you get the idea. “If one could have eliminated
Stalin,” Gaddis muses at the end of his book, “alternative paths become quite conceivable.” But
then he reconsiders. We must also account for Mao, he reminds himself and his readers, a
kindred megalomaniac who also imprinted himself on his country with similar lasting effect.
(We Now Know, p. 294.) Perhaps there is a wedge here, a slight indication that there are also
problems with Stalin-centered Cold War history. The great advantage of Stalin-centered history
is that we need only visit the adjoining multiplex theater whenever what is happening on the
screen fails to convince. Are there serious shortcomings?
Unlike the domestic experiences of political leaders in the West, there were no checks or
balances on Stalin to prepare him for the tasks of successful empire management, it is pointed
out. No one dared to educate him about the process of compromise in diplomacy, nor about
minimal respect for the human dignity of the subjects in the ancient lands under his control. This
asymmetrical division of the world, it thus appears, gives us a serviceable explanation for the
Western “empire by invitation,” and the Eastern “empire by imposition.” And here is where the
history of the purges and terror become important for understanding the Cold War, not in the
Gardener’s “Long Essay” on Cold War History, an H-Diplo essay
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first instance because of the horrendous impact on Stalin’s victims (living as well as dead)--a
subject all its own--but because the blood drenched system he created destroyed independence of
thought among Soviet leaders, and made it virtually impossible for those answering to Stalin,
directly or indirectly, to take into account the views of foreign leaders of whatever persuasion,
“capitalist” or “communist.” “What he wanted,” wrote Andrei Gromyko years afterwards, “was
his own gallery of monochromatic, even cemetery-dull, minions, who would belong to him and
him alone, to Stalin, the man with the iron fist and the iron will.” (Memoirs, trans. By Harold
Shukman, New York, 1989, p. 373.) In the end this was a tremendous handicap for the Soviets
in the Cold War, because even after Stalin’s death the cult of personality exercised a withering
influence on the collective that succeeded him. Seeking to protect themselves against a new
despot, they recoiled from innovation, inevitably degenerating into an aging oligarchy shielded
by their own dictate from an understanding of the outside world-- and, perhaps even worse, shut
off from their own citizens by Marxist slogans as opaque as the shades on their Zil limousines
speeding back and forth across protected Kremlin routes. No one could cope with such an
abnormal being, nor expect anything to work except containment. Once the Soviets had the
bomb, the life of Stalin’s ill begotten changeling empire was prolonged. The bomb kept it going.
And so the West choose to meet the challenge by accepting its duration over forcing its
destruction with nuclear holocaust.
Gaddis elaborates the argument well.
Still, Stalin-centered history presents a set of problems that make it difficult if one is thus to
account for the Cold War in terms of the politics of personality. What sort of regimes would
have been tolerated in Eastern Europe after World War II had Stalin lost the crucial vote in the
wake of Lenin’s death? Conversely, would different decisions about reparations or the Russian
role in Italy and Japan have made any difference to Stalin? Stalin told Yugoslav leaders (when
he was still speaking to them before the split) that this war was different: the victors imposed
their social system as far as their armies reached. The Russian delegates may not have been very
sophisticated economists at the Bretton Woods Conference, but they could see that the United
States was aiming at an integrated world market, and the British were only hoping, as Harold
MacMillan put it, to play the role of Greek wisemen in this new Roman Empire. Imperiallyminded
leaders and societies have usually find a reason for intervention—only the methods
change. The notion of empire by invitation would have appealed certainly to apologists for the
British raj in India, or the French civilizing mission in Indochina, or to Henry Cabot Lodge
describing America’s duty to the Philippines. But more than that, those who invite the
foreigner’s aid in local struggles, soon find they have assumed obligations more binding than
bargained for. But this is true of both the object and subject of the imperial relationship.
Part II
wish at this point to engage three prominent specific issues discussed in We Now Know.
These are: the Russians in Germany, atomic diplomacy, and Korea. In each, Gaddis has
posited the changing position of the Soviets as largely the product of Stalin’s remarkably
shaky equilibrium, tenuously balanced as it was between realism and revolution. I
Gardener’s “Long Essay” on Cold War History, an H-Diplo essay
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When Russian forces fought their way into Germany, we are reminded, Stalin had already
thought ahead to Germany as a “Cold War problem,” not a postwar problem. There is ample
evidence that American policymakers also were not lackadaisical in regarding Germany as a
prewar-postwar continuum to be resolved somewhere in the ideological territory between New
Deal stylish decartelization policies and concern for rapid recovery. (See, Regina Gramer, “The
Second New Deal and the Americanization of ‘West’ Germany from 1938 through 1953: A
Study in Trans-National Conflict Resolution,” Ph.D. dissertation, Rutgers University, 1996). In
a sense, American planning actually went back to policy debates that began in the Progressive
Era. So if Soviet planners had to deal with competing forces of revenge and socialist integration,
so American policymakers pondered how to rehabilitate Germany as a contributor to the world
economy in ways that would forever remove the National Socialist poison from the world’s
blood stream. Stalin apparently set the Soviet goal as socialist integration. All of Germany
would have to be incorporated into the Russian sphere—where it would replicate the Soviet
political system. At one point he assured Yugoslav Communists that all of Germany “must be
ours.” On another occasion, however, he told the same parties that controlling Germany was not
an easy matter. “Give them twelve to fifteen years and they’ll be on their feet again . . . . and
then we’ll have another go at it.”
East German guides in the 1970s and 1980s were eager to point out to English-speaking visitors
to Potsdam that only Stalin among the Big Three had steadfastly opposed the partition of
Germany. Pointing to illustrative maps on the wall of the room where the wartime allies met for
the last time, the guide “revealed” yet once more the designs the West had on Germany, and
Stalin’s resistance to their nefarious plans. A recent study of Russian policy makes the effective
point that the Russian dictator’s policies assured instead that the German people would never be
reconciled to Soviet control. Witnessing Soviet pillage and rape, a political commissar told a
horrified associate. “This will cost us a million roubles a day. Political roubles.” (Ann Tusa,
The Last Division, New York, 1997, p. 13.) Another frequently cited work on Russian treatment
of the East Germans cites notes of conversations with Stalin as early as June, 1945, insisting that
the reinstalled KPD (German Communist Party) should dedicate itself to the “unity of
Germany.” But subsequent KPD statements left open the form of government, “neither Soviet
nor capitalist” that was expected to emerge after the ashes cooled. And it concludes that
throughout the occupation period Moscow never was able to reconcile its conflicting attitudes
toward Germany’s future, whether Sovietization of the Eastern zone, the creation of a unified
Germany run by the Socialist Unity Party (SED), or a neutralized Germany. “Soviets’ actions in
their zone of occupation were simultaneously the causes and results of deteriorating Allied
relations.” (Norman Naimark, The Russians in Germany: A History of the Soviet Zone of
Occupation, 1945-1949, Cambridge, 1995, pp. 258, 465-6, 468.)
But what about the Communists still waiting in the wings in the rest of Europe, waiting,
supposedly for the summons from Moscow to rise up against their masters? Was there even any
attempt to coordinate policies over Germany? Gaddis argues that the Soviet dictator expected a
swing to the left in Europe that would weaken the West, allowing a shift in the correlation of
forces. And other historians have suggested that his mawkish behavior when Charles de Gaulle
came to Moscow in 1944 indicated that he somehow imagined Western Communists would
come into their own after the war, and do his revolutionary work for him. Washington
policymakers were obsessed with the threat. But what were the actual signals from the Kremlin
Gardener’s “Long Essay” on Cold War History, an H-Diplo essay
-7-
towers? Between de Gaulle and Stalin a bargain was worked out, which both saw as
advantageous, for Communist leader Maurice Thorez to return to France—as part of the united
front. After the war, no signal came from Moscow to change that stance. Stalin and Molotov are
frequently quoted in recent studies asserting that the First World War brought about a major
defection from the capitalist world order, Russia, the Second brought in its wake the Chinese
Revolution, and the third would vanquish capitalism from the earth. Stalin’s attitude (and
actions!) towards Western Communists, argues Gabriel Kolko, secured exactly the opposite
result: “It probably remains the greatest irony of this century that the principal political outcome
of the First World War in the form of the USSR led to the neutralization of the potentially far
more drastic political consequences that were likely to have resulted from the much more
destructive conflagration that followed it.” (Century of War: Politics, Conflict, and Society Since
1914, New York, 1996, p. 308.)
Defiant Stalinist to the end, the dark Methuselah of the Bolsheviks, V.M. Molotov cleared up a
related point that had troubled historians. Moscow demanded a “Second Front” in 1942 when
the Kremlin knew full well the West could not mount it in 1942, he told an interviewer, and did
not mount it in 1943 when they could have. But these “broken promises” served the Soviet
Union well. We had the last laugh, he said, because their behavior served the interests of
socialism by undermining “faith in the imperialists.” “They weren’t Marxists, and we were.”
Western cleverness backfired when they did not open a second front. “They woke up only when
half of Europe had passed from them.” (Molotov Remembers: Inside Kremlin Politics,
Conversations with Felix Chuev, ed. by Albert Resis, Chicago, 1993, pp. 46-7.) Molotov’s
argument that Stalin was fighting for “socialism” certainly underscores the assertion that, given
the opportunity to outwit his adversaries, the Russian dictator would wield the sword of Marxism
to advance his interests.
On a different day, in a different mood, Molotov took up the issue of the Cold War. Whose
responsibility was it, he asked himself for the interviewer’s benefit? And he answered: They
hardened their line, and we consolidated “our conquests.” “This was the cold war. Of course,
you had to know when and where to stop. I believe in this respect Stalin kept well within the
limits.” (Ibid., 59.) So did the West, in the sense that it did not take advantage of Soviet follies
in Eastern Europe during the Berlin crisis of 1953 or the 1956 abortive Hungarian Revolution to
launch an open attack on the satellites. But what of contested terrain? Did Stalin’s supposed
“salami” strategy, his ability to establish one tier of states, mean he was waiting to advance to the
next--and the next?
We can never be sure what Stalin would have done had the United States pulled out of Europe
within two years, as Roosevelt seemed to imply would be the case at wartime conferences. No
number of new documents will help us to resolve that question. Stalin’s desire to force the East
German Social Democratic Party (SPD) into a coalition with the KPD, called the SED, was born
of many considerations, not least the disastrous split on the left during the Great Depression that
had allowed Hitler to come to power. But now, of course, he wanted to use that coalition to
block off the Social Democrats from linking up across Berlin and spreading Western influence
into his “reserved” territory. In the West, an apposite fear arose that the Social Democrats in
Germany might be too influenced by British Labour’s left wing. American strategy at the outset
of the Cold War was to work with parties of the moderate left in Europe, so long as the
Gardener’s “Long Essay” on Cold War History, an H-Diplo essay
-8-
international environment remained congenial to a liberal capitalist order. In 1945, Major Denis
Healey had urged a Labour Party conference to “assist the socialist revolution wherever it
appears,” without taking too fastidious an attitude when comrades on the continent used their
police to punish the “depraved, dissolute and decadent upper classes.” (Noel Annan, Changing
Enemies: The Defeat and Regeneration of Germany, New York, 1997, p. 183.) Ernest Bevin
thus had his hands full with his party’s left wing, and it had quite a bit to do with his anxious
wooing of his American counterpart, George C. Marshall, to persuade him to act on both
economic and political problems. “This really is the birth of the western bloc,” the British
foreign secretary whispered congratulations at a conference table to decide how Marshall Plan
aid was to be deployed. (Tusa, p. 22.)
Resolving the Healey “provocation”—if one could offer a label for the danger of international
action on the left—was very likely more important than, or, at least as important as Marshall
Plan dollars or NATO flags all in a circle at Brussels. Indeed, Bevin himself pleaded for a union
of democracies, a “spiritual federation of the west” that became the military alliance. Patriotism
as an antidote to a leftist challenge was too strong a
term, except for Tories, so Bevin skirted around it
with an admonition that it was necessary to create a
“counter attraction” to Communism. It was not
the volume of economic aid itself that insured
Europe’s safe recovery, and the triumph of the
post-New Deal international capitalist
order, wrote Charles Maier a few years ago,
but rather the willingness of the United States to
underwrite the project--it was that assurance which calmed the political scene. “Stabilization
meant an end to the German problem. It likewise meant winning the adherence of a large
enough segment of the working classes to preserve the scope for private economic power and
hierarchy that defined liberal capitalism.”
In this sense, it seems reasonable to agree with those historians who have long posited that the
problem to overcome was Europeans’ lack of clarity about the American commitment the need
to relieve the concern Roosevelt left behind with offhand (and some not-so-offhand) statements
that American troops would be out of Europe in two years. Writing on this subject in recent
memoir, Ambassador George McGhee notes that the ambiguity was finally cleared up at the
Moscow Foreign Ministers’ Conference in March, 1947. “The United States” McGhee quotes
Marshall, “recognizes that its responsibilities in Europe will continue.” At the conclusion of the
conference, McGhee then notes, no date was set for a future consultation. “By the end of the
meeting, the cooperative ‘Spirit of Yalta,’ when real progress seemed possible, was a distant
memory.” (On the Frontline in the Cold War: An Ambassador Reports, Westport, 1997, p. 7.)
Given recent denunciations of Yalta in the aftermath of the Cold War (which seem to pick up
where John Foster Dulles left off so many years ago), McGhee’s statement is intriguingly
Delphic, but a more interesting speculation has to do with Stalin’s assessment of what the
German problem would look like “without” an American presence. Can we explain his
uncertain moves and political maneuvers with the East Germans as either a prelude to a drive for
reunification under Soviet auspices, or simply opportunistic probes, or, yet again, did a concern
similar to British worries that the German question required superpower commitment hover in
“The problem to overcome
was Europeans’ lack of clarity
about the American
commitment”
Gardener’s “Long Essay” on Cold War History, an H-Diplo essay
-9-
the background? It may be worth noting that the “official” history of Soviet foreign policy
presents a “new” find from Foreign Ministry Archives regarding a proposal in October 1945 by
U.S. Commander in Berlin, Lucius Clay, that if the French continued their obstruction of fourpower
controls, “he would recommend agreement between his government and the government
of the USSR on the creation of such departments for two zones, the US and Soviet, and then the
others would willy-nilly have to comply.” (A.V. Gorev, et al., Soviet Foreign Policy, 1945-1980,
vol. 2, Moscow, 1981, p. 76.)
The notion that an American-Russian “Bizonia” might have emerged first, instead of what
happened, is a bizarre scenario to be sure. Presented in the official history of Soviet foreign
policy, it nevertheless has a ring of something a bit more than a shrug. The commitment
Marshall projected after the 1947 Moscow Conference was quite different, of course, but it
resolved the matter of whether Germany was to be let loose by an untimely American
withdrawal. That Stalin disliked the terms particularly the integration of Germany into the
“Marshall Plan” without his reparations claims settled (an increasingly symbolic question of
Russian pride after the removals from the East), and while the Soviet economy struggled to
recover from the Wehrmacht’s cruel depredations upon the homeland—is obvious. Add to this
also that neither side knew exactly what the other planned, or where it would stop. Clay
famously worried that Moscow intended war. But his chief political adviser, Robert Murphy,
was quick to understand that Marshall’s program led logically to the integration of a West
German “state” into the European economy, and would ease French objections to the
resurrection of the industrial megalopolis that had cast a long shadow both east and west. West
German recovery would spark a general economic recovery, and exercise a “magnetic” attraction
on Eastern Germany and thus “make even more difficult Soviet control of that area.” Eventually
that would allow the United States to offer the Russians a four-power meeting whose only
purpose would be to arrange the integration of the Soviet zone into Western Germany! (See,
Thomas Alan Schwartz, America’s Germany: John J. McCloy and the Federal Republic of
Germany, Cambridge, Mass., 1991, p. 36.)
Surely the threat of losing East Germany was the worst of all Soviet nightmares. And when
American planners brought out their powerful magnet, the introduction of currency reforms, the
Berlin Blockade was, like the Berlin Wall in 1961, a crude and cruel attempt to shut out the
danger. And so began a year of heightened tensions. Moscow had to accept the onus for dividing
German in an inhumane fashion. Like its other policy decisions in East Germany, such as
forcing the regime to accept the re-drawn border with Poland, the Russians faced a Hobson’s
choice. Hints from Moscow that it would like to end the blockade and accept a modus vivendi on
American terms went unexamined until after the NATO pact was ratified. That accomplished,
Secretary of State Acheson agreed to a new Foreign Ministers’ Meeting in Paris in May, 1949.
At that conference it quickly became apparent that both sides would table pro forma proposals
for reunification, while dedicating themselves to exploring the parameters of the new situation.
Acheson asked if the Soviets were prepared, as Murphy had predicted he would, to see the Bonn
system extended to the Eastern zone. But he was really interested in finding out if the Russians
wished to talk about exploring ways of increasing intra-German trade in exchange for a Westerncontrolled
access corridor to Berlin. They did so wish. Acheson explained that they could treat
this not as a formal proposal made by either side, but rather as something that had somehow
spontaneously emerged during the discussions. And so the final communique read that the
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occupation authorities would “recommend” to German economic organizations in all four zones
that they seek to “facilitate the establishment of closer economic ties between the zones and
more effective implementation of trade and other economic agreements.” The American
counter-blockade of East Germany had already had a noticeable effect on Moscow’s ability to
sustain its viability—but here was an American secretary of state seeking ways to maintain that
viability! Washington’s willingness to call a halt to its half of the blockade was the best deal
Moscow could get--and it lasted for four decades. (For elaboration, see Lloyd Gardner, “From
Liberation to Containment, 1945-1953,” in William Appleman Williams, ed., From Colony to
Empire: Essays in the History of American Foreign Relations, New York, 1972, pp. 360-62.)
Part III
tomic diplomacy figured in the German question in an interesting way. Both the
American and the Russian successes in developing nuclear weapons helped to stabilize
the situation in Central Europe, and permit the creation of “trip-wire” military pacts.
Gaddis readily concedes that there was much opportunism, and sudden shifts in Stalin’s attitudes
toward just about everything although there were certain constants, such as his “belief in the
eventual inevitability of war through the final weird months of his life.” (We Now Know, p. 112.)
The process by which the war would start, however, is somewhat less certain both in the
authority he cites, David Holloway’s, Stalin and the Bomb, and in the dictator’s speeches
themselves. Holloway points out that in his last months--when he was suffering from
hypertension and arteriosclerosis--evident in both his writings and speeches, Stalin sought to
refute the view that wars between capitalist countries had become obsolete. Reiterating his 1946
views in the famous “Election Speech,” Stalin insisted, writes Holloway, that “a new world war
might well engulf the Soviet Union again.” (Stalin and the Bomb, New Haven: Yale Univ. Press,
1994, p. 291.) And again, quoting one present at a meeting of the Central Committee, Holloway
points out that Stalin declared “a difficult struggle with the capitalist camp lay ahead. . . .” (Ibid.)
Several things stand out here. First, neither Gaddis nor Holloway suggest that Stalin was
preparing for an offensive war, though the quotation from the former certainly suggests that if
the two parts of Stalin’s character—revolutionary romanticism and hard-headed nationalism—
ever came together in a critical mass with opportunity, World War III would happen. “We will
never know for certain what Stalin or Mao might have done with a nuclear monopoly...,” Gaddis
writes a few sentences after his notation on Stalin’s belief in the inevitability of war. But “it
seems reasonable to assume” that they would have brushed aside considerations that placed
limits on Truman and Eisenhower. “Authoritarians tend to wield power authoritatively.” (We
Now Know, p. 111.) Given the atmosphere of the Korean War, noted above, it may appear to
readers that the leap from one point to readers that the leap from one point to the other is a rather
long vault into speculation. According to Gaddis, Stalin’s devotion to Marxism led him to
believe that war would erupt first, between the United States and England, or, later, when the
surviving capitalist hegemon, the United States, could not control the resurgence of Germany
and Japan. He believed that the United States was planning its own funeral in building up West
Germany, yet another indicator that it was the chaos principle that worried world leaders most.
Since Stalin did not get the bomb first, nevertheless, we can rejoice with Churchill at Fulton,
Missouri, that God had ordained the Anglo-Americans to receive this weapon rather than their
enemies. Stalin was an uncontrolled authoritarian, and a sick one at that fearing his own
A
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mortality. A very dangerous combination. Or is that necessarily the case? Richard Overy’s new
book, cited above, makes an argument that the very determination Stalin had to remove all his
enemies also made him fear greatly the danger of hastening his personal end by provoking a war
with the West. Yet he constantly stirred the war pot during his last years. “Did Stalin seek a
final apocalyptic conflict to stamp his mark on Russian history forever?” Overy thinks not, and
reminds readers of his efforts to avoid war in 1941, and that here was a very sick man attempting
to use a war psychosis in a paranoid fashion to “give the new purge its shallow justification.”
(Russia’s War, pp. 333-7.)
Leave psychiatry to the psychiatrists for a moment. Suppose, indeed, that the situation had been
otherwise. He gets the bomb first. Stalin would have lacked an effective delivery system in the
monopoly years since he was without the advanced bases America enjoyed around the world;
then, when he had an adequate long range capacity, the monopoly would have disappeared. The
question of how an authoritarian would have behaved thus becomes largely irrelevant in real
time. But asking it is to raise the political issue: can we imagine how someone wielding the
power he enjoyed would have used atomic diplomacy to intimidate the world into world
revolution? Related fears were the basis for the American decision to build the hydrogen bomb,
after all, a concern that morale in the West would be so weakened if the Soviets achieved parity
in nuclear weaponry that negotiations on crucial issues—not atomic war—would become
inevitable. Not only would they use their superiority and successful test of an atomic bomb to
demand negotiations, insisted the crucial swing
voter, Dean Acheson, to exploit outstanding issues
“for their own objectives of world domination,” but
since they could also build the hydrogen bomb,
the West’s diplomatic position might be fatally
weakened. With European nations
scrambling to make independent deals, the
dream of an integrated world political economy would go the way of all past attempts to patch
together a new system. The answer was to build the “super.” (See, McGeorge Bundy, Danger
and Survival: Choices About the Bomb in the First Fifty Years, New York, 1988, p. 219.)
The first use of atomic diplomacy after Hiroshima, it ought to be remembered, was President
Truman’s assertion to a visiting Charles de Gaulle that bilateral treaties no longer mattered—a
reference both to France’s treaty with Russia, and any appeal he might make for a Franco-
American pact—because of the new weapon. “The United States,” Truman admonished his
White House guest, “possessed a new weapon, the atomic bomb, which would defeat any
aggressor. What the whole world needed most was economic re-establishment. At present, all
the powers, including England and Russia, were asking for assistance from the United States.”
Truman then raised some “questions” about Communist ministers in de Gaulle’s government and
the obstructions American businessmen were encountering in their attempts to cooperate with
French industrialists. Americans believed that atomic superiority in the early Cold War, even if
the bomb could not defeat the Soviets in actual warfare, gave them a powerful leverage to restore
the world economy along liberal capitalist lines. The first secretary of defense, James V.
Forrestal, put this point succinctly in a private letter to a friend: “As long as we can outproduce
the world, can control the sea and can strike inland with the atomic bomb, we can assume certain
risks otherwise unacceptable in an effort to restore world trade, to restore the balance of power--
“Leave psychiatry to the
psychiatrists for a moment.”
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military power--and to eliminate some of the conditions which breed war.” (Walter Millis, ed.,
The Forrestal Diaries, New York, 1951, pp. 350-51.) More recently, historians have picked up
on Forrestal’s point to argue that with the bomb reassuring Europe, the United States could
proceed to rearm Germany safely, and, in later years, undertake to shore up the positions of the
“Free World” in Korea and Vietnam. (See Gar Alperovitz and Kai Bird, “The Centrality of the
Bomb,” Foreign Policy, Spring 1994: 3-20.)
Gaddis argues effectively that whatever Stalin really thought about the American bomb, he
practiced atomic diplomacy in reverse by pretending not to be frightened at all. How are we to
tell, then, whether statements about the need to prepare for war are, like those the author
analyzes from Eisenhower, designed to discourage war by making it seem as horrible as possible,
or, like Acheson’s to overcome worry that morale will disintegrate without constant reassurances
and promises of military superiority? And there is now Richard Overy’s argument adding
another possibility. So if we still need to ask would earlier Russian possession of atomic
weapons have intimidated the West we need to concentrate on political, not military advantage.
We have seen that Acheson thought parity would have forced him to compromise on key
political issues--without stipulating which ones. The intimations in We Now Know suggest
agreement with Acheson’s view, and yet it is not clear how Russian possession of atomic
weapons would have changed Soviet behavior in Germany and Eastern Europe and it was the
example of that behavior that helped to overcome any lingering admiration for the Soviet Union
that constituted the greatest danger that leftist inroads might shred the fragile reconnections
being made between war-damaged institutions and individuals. Great emphasis in postrevisionist
works is placed upon “rape,” in both its specific and generic senses. Stalin’s armies
made it impossible for him to consolidate an empire to match the “empire by invitation” the
Americans created in the West. There was no moral equivalency—ever—runs the argument, to
which one should add there was no military equivalency either. Russian atomic weapons would
not have changed either situation. In the end, then, the question of a Soviet breakthrough to
achieve the atomic bomb first has to contend with many questions besides Stalin’s warped
visions. From the beginning, it was a matter of catch-up, first to get the bomb, then to develop a
weapons system, and finally to amass warheads.
Some historians have suggested wryly that the bomb ought to be given the Nobel Peace Prize. If
so, it would have to be awarded jointly to Moscow and Washington. In this regard let us
examine one final time the context of Stalin’s speeches about atomic war—and their American
counterparts. We need to inquire about what is being said or written in both Cold War capitals
so as to discover not only the words, but the environment in which they exist, if we are to
understand fully their weight and purpose. An example from American archives will serve as
illustration. During an NSC meeting in February, 1953, Secretary of Defense Charles E. Wilson
declared that the time had come to stop talking out of “both sides of our mouth at the same time,
on the one hand urging an increase in the level of armament for the defense of the free world,
and on the other urging the virtues of arms limitation.” In any event, he went on, it was now
“most desirable to outline what kind of a peace we should seek to impose in the event that we
could not avoid war with the Soviet Union.” (Memorandum of a Discussion, February 18, 1953,
Foreign Relations, 1952-1954, II, 1106-1109) Strong stuff, indeed. Wilson’s statement might be
taken to mean the United States ought to cease its shilly-shallying around and show the other guy
evidence it was ready for the right war, in the right place. One would want more of the context
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to reach a conclusion. A historian could read campaign statements about liberation, Dulles’s
speeches about massive retaliation, and peek at Eisenhower’s troubled private ruminations
concerning the threat to American freedoms from maintaining a constant high level of national
mobilization, and conclude that the new administration was trying to convince itself of the need
to end the impasse with dramatic action.
Another historian, looking at Stalin’s statements to the Central Committee might have (and has)
suggested that he was building up to something. In particular, that we should pay attention to
Stalin’s comments against the view that the world “peace movement” would prevent the
outbreak of global war. Surely both pronouncements should be considered within the larger
contextual circle of the Korean War, and not simply as free-standing declarations. Korea tried
men’s souls on both sides of the Iron Curtain. There were more than a few moments when it
threatened to get out of control. That Stalin found it necessary to reassert Soviet stalwartness by
denouncing the world peace movement is really not terribly surprising.
Part IV
ut what of the effects of atomic diplomacy outside Europe? At Yalta a “Far Eastern”
deal was struck, involving Russian entrance into the war against Japan and Moscow’s
revived claims to old Tsarist holdings in the area of Manchuria and Korea. I have no
intention of throwing another set of footnotes into the controversy over the origins of atomic
diplomacy. Americans clearly regarded the bomb as an asset and useful in forestalling a Russian
role in the occupation of Japan. Truman came back from that last World War II summit
conference determined that the Soviets should not share in any major way in the American
reconstruction of the other enemy nation. At Potsdam, Truman wrote in his memoirs, he had
proposed an international regime for European waterways and the Turkish Straits. Stalin had
rejected this plan, the plain spoken man from Missouri wrote, because—“The Russians were
planning world conquest.” They were not going to get a chance to move forward in Japan. What
Truman left out was what had happened when Stalin inquired if the same proposal was being
offered for Suez. Embarrassed, Truman had retreated at Potsdam into a series of clarifications
that trailed off into vagueness. But he remembered the situation perfectly in his memoirs,
insisting that he had offered the Russian an international solution to all the crucial waterways,
Panama and Suez included. It was not so. But Truman’s faulty memory aside, the interesting
thing is the impression that the president got of Stalin’s ultimate purposes. Whatever it took to
diminish Russia’s role in Japan, Truman seized upon without any second thoughts. “When Japan
did capitulate,” Nikita Khrushchev recalled, “we had no representatives present at the surrender
ceremony. This was not by chance. Even though we had not fought on the Japanese islands, the
Americans might still have invited their ally to the ceremony and waited until we arrived. But
Truman didn’t want that. He seemed to be making a point of signing the surrender in our
absence. This irritated us.” (Jerrold L. Schecter and Vyacheslav V. Luchkov eds., Khrushchev
Remembers: The Glasnost Tapes, Boston, 1990, p. 82.)
American unilateralism in Japan affected the interests of other countries, of course, including as
well British and French aspirations, the restless and increasingly rebellious colonial possessions,
and Chinese and Korean affairs. But they adjusted to American hegemony, while Stalin’s pique
kept him from signing the Japanese peace treaty, much, Khrushchev lamented, to the
B
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disadvantage of Moscow’s economic and political interests. It was an odd way, certainly, for an
aspiring world power to behave, deliberately cutting itself off that way. While Franklin
Roosevelt had not abandoned the Chinese Nationalists during World War II, he lowered his
expectations of what Jiang might be able to achieve after the war though keeping his
disappointment to himself. Both Roosevelt and Stalin dabbled in Chinese politics, and both
indicated a preference for working with a coalition government. Chinese resentments against
both, on the other hand, had long- range consequences. But Stalin did not see an American pullout
as on the boards. He disparaged Mao’s chances of an early victory, while stripping
Manchuria of Japanese assets and rushing in to cash his Yalta checks before a possible default.
None too soon, for Mao’s triumph forced both Moscow and Washington to recalculate. Stalin
had some serious fence-mending to do, while the new regime’s hostility to the defeated
American-sponsored “dynasty” was further inflamed by abundant evidence that Washington was
taking up positions previously held on China’s periphery by the rapacious Japanese, and moving
to restore Japan itself as the “workshop” of Asia. Stalin’s advantage, of course, was presumed
ideological affinity. Given the split with Tito, moreover, the empire badly needed a victory
somewhere. Gaddis sees more than simple affinity, however. He sees a Stalin fully reenergized
by the Chinese Revolution. Old Bolshevik ashes fanned into burning revolutionary zeal, not
simply for the Chinese, but as the beginning of a new phase in the progress of the world
revolution. (Later on, Fidel Castro’s triumph in Cuba would supposedly have the same impact
on Khrushchev.) Without doubt, Moscow welcomed a new player on the world scene, ending an
embarrassing isolation and silencing critics who used the Yugoslav dictator’s criticisms against
him, openly abroad, secretly at home. During the war, recall, Washington’s allies had suspected
that FDR relished pulling out the Chinese “vote” to demonstrate an alliance against oldfashioned
diplomacy, however lopsided the alliance might be. Now, the tables were turned.
There was a Communist “bloc,” not just the Soviets and the “captive peoples of Eastern Europe.”
But the Russian dictator approached the new Chinese rulers with a display of calculated
circumspection well worthy of mention in a new edition of Hans Morgenthau’s Politics Among
Nations. As early as July, 1949, even before the final victory for Mao’s forces, Chinese
representatives in Moscow gained the impression that he was sending them forth to carry on the
world revolution in Asia—perhaps to compensate for the temporary checkmate U.S. policies had
put on Soviet expansion in Europe. (We Now Know, p. 66-7, 72-73.) But V.M. Molotov recalled
in the 1970s that the Soviet leader approached his Chinese opposite with great wariness, asking
others to sound out Mao after meeting him himself--not simply for information, but to get a
sense of the man. After several days of allowing Mao to cool his heels in Moscow, Stalin
ordered Molotov to “Go and see what sort of fellow he is.” (Molotov Remembers, p. 81.)
Molotov urged Stalin to invite Mao in for a talk--in fact discussions on the Sino-Soviet Treaty
went on for a long time. During World War II, Stalin often acted stand-offish—forcing
diplomatic guests to pay him homage in this fashion, but the nonchalance Mao met in Moscow
does not square with a man smitten with a recurring case of romantic revolutionary fever. The
minutes of their discussions so far revealed suggest a continued wariness, behind facades of
mutual congratulations, and screens of ideology.
Talking to a Chinese delegation, moreover, Stalin put the odds against war as better than even.
“A third world war is improbable, if only because no one has the strength to start it.” And when
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the Chinese requested help in conquering Stalin, the Soviet tyrant refused. It might detonate a
new world war: “If we , as leaders, do this, the Russian people will not understand us. More than
that. It could dismiss us. For underestimating its wartime and postwar misfortunes and efforts.
For thoughtlessness. . ..” (Overy, Russia’s War, p. 331.) It would seem that Stalin had learned
how to invoke “public opinion” to avoid directness in negotiations from masters like Roosevelt
and Truman.
But then there is Korea. Much of the “new” documentation concerns Moscow decisions about
the origins of that war. Great emphasis is placed on Stalin’s conversion from skeptic to
supporter of Kim Il-sung’s petitions for aid and approval. It is still agreed, however, that Stalin
was never the prime mover. His “enthusiasm” for the advancing world revolution down the
narrow Korean peninsula as a first thrust that would carry Communism triumph upon triumph
across Asia was conditioned on several things. (Never mind, of course, that he had just backed
out of a possible military confrontation in Germany when the West resisted, and never mind that
he knew full well that such “adventurism” would command a high price in world opinion.) First,
he apparently believed Kim’s claim that the South Korean regime was rotten and ready to
collapse from within at the slightest blow—a miscalculation he may have gained from American
skepticism about Syngman Rhee, whatever importance he may have attached to Dean Acheson’s
famous exclusion of Korea from the American defense perimeter. Second, he made it clear the
North Koreans were on their own if they got into trouble. Khrushchev, who fully supported the
decision to aid Kim, was surprised that no sooner had a date been set but that Stalin ordered
Marshal Bulganin to withdraw all Russian advisers from the North Korean advisers. Why do
this? he asked. Stalin wanted no excuse for the Americans to turn Korea into an opportunity to
expand a military conflict into war with Russia. Khrushchev said he understood—but there was
no getting around that “it weakened the North Korean army,” and, he always believed,
contributed to the debacle that followed. (Khrushchev Remembers, p. 146.)
There were other matters on Stalin’s mind as well that we sometimes forget. The American
program for Japan was moving into high gear. Here was an instance where Soviet intelligence
may have learned a great deal about American plans from British “moles,” but Stalin needed no
spies to convince him of Washington’s uneasiness and the sense of urgency it felt to settle with
Japan before things came apart with the unpopular Rhee, and Jiang’s exile regime on Taiwan.
George Kennan put it well in his memoirs: “I find it hard to accept the suggestion that the
Russians should have waited for the final denouement of the State Department’s differences with
the Pentagon over the timing of our renewed approach for a Japanese peace treaty before
drawing their own conclusions as to what was cooking in Washington. I would submit that by
the middle of February 1950, at the latest (I stress here the element of time), it was clear for all
reasonable people in Moscow (1) that the treaty for which the State Department was angling was
to be a separate one (unless the Russians wished to adhere to something they had never approved
and to which they had not been invited to adhere); (2) that this treaty was to mark, or be
accompanied by, an arrangement that would turn Japan into a permanent military ally of the
United States; (3) that the arrangement would provide for the continued use of the Japanese
archipelago by the American armed forces for an indefinite period to come; and (4) that the
remaining differences of opinion within the official American establishment in this matter were
ones that might at best delay, but would not prevent, the ultimate realization of such a program.”
(Memoirs, II, pp. 41-2.)
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With the Japanese treaty about to be completed, moreover, there was the refitting of former
Japanese air bases on Okinawa in order to make them ready for B-29’s capable of carrying the
atomic bomb. If we turn the Asian kaleidoscope a few notches to see how things might have
appeared from Moscow’s side of the world, a fertile field for carrying on the mission of world
revolution becomes a dangerously unstable situation with the American right in an angry state
over the “loss of China” and spoiling for an opportunity to give Mao a pretty hard smack.
America apparently was abandoning Korea to its fate, with two leaders ambitious to send one
another to the guillotine and reunite their country; Chinese revolutionaries were bristling with
hatred for the United States, most recently for defending Jiang’s island redoubt and were
themselves spoiling for some sort of fight; and Washington was moving ahead with a plan for
Japan that could also provide a reopening of conflict throughout Southeast Asia. Stalin wanted
reunification of Korea—but Kim Il-sung was not worth a World War III. Almost as soon as the
fighting began on June 25, proposals were floated for opening negotiations on the question of
Korean unification. On July 6, 1950, for example, Foreign Minister Andrei Gromyko had a
serious discussion with the British ambassador and did not flinch at the latter’s suggestion that
not only an end to the fighting was required, but also progress on negotiations leading to
reunification. Stalin then reported this development to Mao. The British suggestion that the first
step had to be a North Korean withdrawal to the 38th Parallel was “impertinent and
unacceptable,” he said. In the next paragraph, however, he gave notice that he would reply to the
British that “the Korean question had become too complicated after the armed foreign
intervention and that such a complex question can
be resolved only by the Security Council with the
participation of the USSR and China and with the
summoning of representatives of Korea
in order to hear their opinion.” The message
closed with a question about Chinese readiness to send divisions to the Korean border—and a
promise to send jet fighter planes “for covering these troops.” (See Foreign Relations, 1950,
VII, pp. 312-3, and Stalin to Zhou, July 13, 1950, in Cold War International History Project
Bulletin, Issues 6-7, “The Cold War in Asia,” p. 44.)
Stalin thus covered all his bets. When the British were told that Moscow desired a Security
Council meeting with China present, it raised the political stakes very high indeed. London had
granted diplomatic recognition to the new government in Bejing—a position that would cause
serious acrimony in trans-Atlantic cable traffic for years to come. The British, in turn, were
perturbed by Truman’s seemingly deliberately provocative statements about Formosa that
implied it should never go back to China so long as the Communist regime existed. Such an
approach could hardly calm a tense situation made worse by the war in Korea. The McCarthyite
infection of American politics had already reached a virulent stage, unfortunately, so that no
matter what State Department thinking might be, politically, Truman felt enough heat on this one
that he had to get out of the kitchen, without turning the gas burners off first. The upshot of the
Gromyko-Kelly exchanges produced a flat Washington pronouncement that the only thing that
needed settling in Korea was the presence of North Korean forces in the south and an end to the
fighting. The Indian ambassador, Madame Pandit, who had also gotten involved in the prenegotiations
going on, was told that the seating of Communist China was an entirely separate
matter that should not divert the world’s attention from aggression in Korea. Assistant Secretary
Stalin thus covered all his bets
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of State George McGhee noted that he “was aware that our position on this and other matters
was being misinterpreted, but he feared that this was the price we had to pay for the role of world
leadership which had been thrust upon us.” (Foreign Relations, 1950, VII, p. 418.)
Far from seeing the Korean War as a prelude to a Soviet world offensive, Ambassador Kirk
perceived the situation, as revealed in the Gromyko-Kelly conversations, as a move to correct a
mistake. “If we are all correct in assuming that Soviets are trying to bail maximum prestige out
of a bad situation with minimum losses, we ourselves should be the ones to obtain concessions
from them.” (Ibid., 332.) And that, notes a new book on American policy, is exactly what
happened. Secretary of State Acheson ruled out any talk about seating China, but insisted that
the Korean negotiations—if they should take place--should begin with agreement to restore the
status quo ante bellum, and then proceed to reunification via the UN General Assembly. “This
last requirement was significant, revealing American intentions early on in the war to establish a
unified and democratic Korea by bringing the issue to the Western-dominated General Assembly
. . . . If a settlement were made, it would be one that enhanced American and U.N. prestige at the
expense of world communism.” (Steven Hugh Lee, Outposts of Empire: Korea, Vietnam, and the
Origins of the Cold War in Asia, 1949-1954, Montreal, 1997, p. 81.)
It can be argued that the Korean War—certainly from the Kremlin’s vantage point—enhanced
the world counter-revolution far more than it aided the Communists. At the outset, President
Truman re-drew the American defense perimeter to include stronger commitments to
conservative governments in the Philippines and Vietnam, along with blocking off the Chinese
from Taiwan by placing the 7th Fleet in the straits. Korea, he told the nation and the world,
demonstrated that the Soviets had gone beyond insurrection and subversion to direct aggression
in pursuit of their goal of world dominion. Acheson was delighted by the war’s impact on
moving Europe toward rearmament and reintegration—especially of Germany—and the general
resurgence of a sense of purpose uniting the West. At home, finally, the war had a good effect
by defanging Republican accusations of appeasement and, in some extreme cases, treason.
There was even the possibility that an actual rollback would begin in Korea, thanks in large
measure to General MacArthur’s brilliantly executed campaign that began with the Inchon
landings.
Retreating before UN forces racing toward his capital, Pyongyang, Kim Il-sung was in a
desperate mood. “There is no way out,” he cried to the Russian ambassador, “The Americans
are sure to come and occupy North Korea.” What would Stalin do to help him survive? “So
what?,” snapped the Communist Tsar, his revolutionary fever apparently in remission. “If Kim
Il Sung fails, we are not going to participate with our troops. Let it be. Let the Americans now
be our neighbors in the Far East.” When the Chinese spoke up, according to Nikita Khrushchev,
Stalin rejected all efforts to exact a price for their participation. Khrushchev was embarrassed
and even disgusted by what he was witnessing. “He showed cowardice. He was afraid of the
United States. Stalin had his nose to the ground. He developed fear, literally fear, of the United
States.” (Khrushchev Remembers, p. 147.)
The Chinese intervened anyway, and Korea suffered the fate small nations located at pivotal
points in pivotal times often do—pounded by two armies unable to disengage without suffering
loss of face. The Cold War had become a struggle, Dean Acheson wrote to a disgruntled father,
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pitting an evil so immense it reached into the lives of every American with its torment. The
moral balance between the two empires must surely include as well the fate of those who became
caught up in this titanic, life and death struggle, out of no desire to be aligned with either side.
The world’s population has paid a heavy price for ideological certainties imposed by the rivals,
who then abandoned the field to arrange things between themselves. In the spring of 1951, prenegotiations
picked up where the Gromyko exchange had left things a year earlier. George
Kennan, the recognized (if anguished by that sobriquet) author of “Containment,” traveled in
secret out to Long Island to meet with the Russian Ambassador to the United Nations, Jacob
Malik. They chatted away and during the course of the afternoon agreed that settlement of either
the Chinese question or reunification was not on the agenda. Malik did press for an American
approach directly to China and North Korea, but Kennan demurred. The United States, he said,
would have great difficulty relying on anything those regimes promised. He regarded the
Soviets as holding “a serious and responsible attitude toward what they conceived to be their
own interests” while the Chinese were an “excited, irresponsible people.” Malik responded that
the Americans were the ones responsible for exciting the Chinese. (William Stueck, The Korean
War: An International History, Princeton, 1995, p. 206.)
Part V
ot Stalin then, not his enthusiasm for Mao’s born-again faith? In this final section, I will
attempt to recapitulate certain arguments and offer something of a different perspective.
Gaddis resolves old Cold War question marks by positing Stalin as the demiurge that
contains within himself power to unleash a revolutionary force of eager zealots or confront the
world with the expressionless gaze of brutish power. Stalin the brutal realist accounts for the
treatment of the Baltic States and later the Iron Curtain, while the romantic revolutionary comes
to the surface when summoned by opportunity or renewed ambition to drive the Soviet state
toward the goal of world revolution. It is an explanation that finally accounts for nearly
everything that happened--and permits Western policy to be seen as a normative response to the
threat of the “other.” In the end, however, it is the revolutionary romantic that most threatens us,
because he has found a way inside the West’s psychological defenses, working through
Communist Parties. Stalin’s ability to control non-Russian Communist leaders in the early Cold
War does indeed become a crucial point to consider, though it does not always point to the place
where Gaddis wishes us to follow.
John Foster Dulles paused in trying to formulate an answer a similar question in 1957. Asked to
explain his complex statements about the role of “International Communism” as against the
Soviet Union itself as the controlling voice in Moscow’s decisions and ultimate purpose, Dulles
told the Senate Foreign Relations Committee, “You can have a long discussion, Senator, on
whether or not the Russian State controls international communism or international communism
controls the Russian State. There are all kinds of books and theses written about it. Stalin wrote
a book about it. You can argue about that one for a long time.” Perhaps sorry he had asked the
secretary to explain himself at such length, Senator Henry Jackson tried another approach:
“Would you not agree on this: that international communism has been used to date as an
instrument of Russian foreign policy since 1918?” Dulles would not. “I would put it the other
way around. Russian foreign policy is an instrument of international communism.” (U.S.
Congress, Senate, Committee on Foreign Relations, Hearings: The President’s Proposal on the
N
Gardener’s “Long Essay” on Cold War History, an H-Diplo essay
-19-
Middle East, 85th Cong., lst. Sess. Washington, D.C., 1957, , pp. 175-77). One can appreciate
the secretary’s concern to emphasize the revolutionary elements--or at least the “agent” theory of
revolution—because he was testifying for legislative endorsement of the “Eisenhower Doctrine”
to give the president powers to send military forces to protect Western interests where it was not
always easy to see a direct connection with the Kremlin. At another point in his testimony,
Dulles argued, “Well, international communism is a conspiracy composed of a certain number of
people, all of whose names I do not know, and many of whom I suppose are secret. They have
gotten control of one government after another.” Within three years of the end of World War II,
however, Tito had defected, while Yugoslavia remained Communist. The next year Mao
triumphed in China, and was then greeted in Moscow by a seemingly contrite Stalin who
confessed his error in not appreciating the potential for Asian revolutions—but who also seemed
loathe to part too quickly with his substantial gains under the Yalta Agreements, a bargain struck
with an ousted regime. But Dulles had seen the enemy threaten Iran and Guatemala. It was a
totalitarian force that seemingly had the capacity—even after Stalin’s death—to subsume all
differences to direct the full force of its malevolence in whatever direction it chose at the
moment.
The propensity to label Soviet society under Stalin and his heirs, “totalitarian,” writes David
Joravsky, renders simple a complex problem. Interestingly, Joravsky takes the binary question
back to Marx himself. “His mixture of utopian vision and grim realism challenged the
intelligentsia of poor despotic countries to seek
a ‘mass base’ for a great leap, not merely out of
poverty and despotism but also out of the
hypocritical pretensions to genuine democracy and
equitable prosperity that Marx exposed in
advanced countries. Most of the parties created to
achieve such a utopian goal proved to be
politically impotent sects.” (“Communism in
Historical Perspective,” American Historical
Review, June 1994, pp. 837-57.) Where they did triumph was in countries where “men of
property were conspicuously feeble as leaders.” Elsewhere the industrial revolution was
managed—not without great pain to the lower class majority—to secure a “democratic” ending
to what had begun in Boston Harbor and the streets of Paris. Russia was the scene of their
original triumph, and they came to power obsessed with overtaking the West. “They yearned to
overtake and surpass the West in a journey through efficiently organized violence to democratic
peace and prosperity.” It was to be a journey to the “mythic concept” they had about the West’s
success, which, itself was something of an irony. (Ibid.) But after they won, after the bloodshed
of a civil war, the famine, and—we should not forget—ostracism from the West, the promises
they made could not be fulfilled. Disappointment led to suspicion, suspicion to repression,
repression to terror, and, eventually the revolution from below was overtaken by a revolution
from above carried out by the original revolutionaries, who, not surprisingly, excused themselves
by blaming the “evil empire” of the West for all the tribulations and sufferings their people must
endure. Eventually, too, the survivors had to purge themselves to eliminate memories—by
eliminating those who might dare to recall, or, finally, those who even reminded the inner circle
of the original promise. Only at rare moments when the task of overtaking the West seemed
achievable, did Communist rulers allow, outsiders and themselves, a glimpse of the internal
“Disappointment led to
suspicion, suspicion to
repression, repression to
terror…”
Gardener’s “Long Essay” on Cold War History, an H-Diplo essay
-20-
tensions and ambiguity that would dog the Soviets all their time in power. Stalin’s willingness to
join the United Nations at the moment of triumph in World War II and Khrushchev’s talk about
peaceful co-existence against the background of space exploits are examples. When these hopes
went a-glimmering, well-known reactions set in: the Berlin Blockade and the crushing of the
Hungarian Revolution.
It is an exciting time for historians of the Cold War. The new documents now becoming
available from various archives once jealously guarded by secretive bureaucrats are beginning to
yield their secrets. In Moscow and Beijing the authorities have at least made a beginning, and
we await others such as Hanoi and Havana, but also Seoul and Taipeh. And we await here at
home a breakthrough on access to the files of the Central Intelligence Agency’s covert
activities—if indeed, they have not been destroyed as has been reported. John Gaddis has given
us his statement on what the new history of the Cold War will look like, a history that will pay
greater attention to the so-called lesser powers and will indeed consider not simply the new
documents, but also input from related disciplines in the field of history and international
relations. Historians should look carefully at the new lexicon and especially such terms as
“empire by invitation” as an anodyne description of the postwar situation in Europe, and still
more closely at its application to all the areas outside that war-ravaged continent. It is worth
noting, in closing, that in We Now Know the only index entry for ideology on the American side
is “Wilson.” I wonder if Messrs. Acheson and Dulles feel short-changed.
—Lloyd Gardner, Rutgers University
Copyright © 1996-2007 by H-Diplo, all rights reserved. H-Diplo and H-Net permit the
redistribution and reprinting of this work for nonprofit, educational purposes, with full and
accurate attribution to the author, web location, date of publication, H-Diplo, and H-Net:
Humanities & Social Sciences Online. For any other proposed use, contact the H-Diplo Editors
at h-diplo@h-net.msu.edu.

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Post Re: POST, POST LIKE YOU NEVER POSTED BEFORE!
THE SATANIC BIBLE
By Anton Szandor LaVey
INTRODUCTION by Burton H. Wolfe
PREFACE
PROLOGUE
THE NINE SATANIC STATEMENTS
(FIRE) --BOOK OF SATAN-- The Infernal Diatribe [I] [II] [III] [IV] [V]
(AIR) --BOOK OF LUCIFER-- The Enlightenment
Wanted!: God - Dead or Alive
The God You SAVE May Be Yourself
Some Evidence of a New Satanic Age
Hell, the Devil, and How to Sell Your Soul
Love and Hate
Satanic Sex
Not all Vampires Suck Blood
Indulgence... NOT Compulsion On the
Choice of a Human Sacrifice
Life After Death Through Fulfillment of the Ego
Religious Holidays
The Black Mass
(EARTH) --BOOK OF BELIAL-- The Mastery of the Earth
Theory and Practice of Satanic Magic: (Definition and Purpose of Lesser and
Greater Magic)
The Three Types of Satanic Ritual
The Ritual, or "Intellectual Decompression", Chamber
The Ingredients Used in the Performance of Satanic Magic: Desire, Timing, Imagery, Direction
The Balance Factor
The Satanic Ritual: Some Notes Which are to be Observed Before Beginning Ritual The Thirteen Steps
Devices Used in Satanic Ritual
(WATER) --BOOK OF LEVIATHAN-- The Raging Sea
Invocation to Satan
The Infernal Names
Invocation Employed Towards the Conjuration of Lust
Invocation Employed Towards the Conjuration of Destruction
Invocation Employed Towards the Conjuration of Compassion
The Enochian Keys and The Enochian Language (The nineteen Keys will be listed here in chronological order.)
The First Key [ENOCHIAN || ENGLISH]
The Second Key [ENOCHIAN ||ENGLISH]
The Third Key [ENOCHIAN || ENGLISH]
The Fourth Key [ENOCHIAN ||ENGLISH]
The Fifth Key [ENOCHIAN || ENGLISH]
The Sixth Key [ENOCHIAN ||ENGLISH]
The Seventh Key [ENOCHIAN || ENGLISH]
The Eighth Key [ENOCHIAN ||ENGLISH]
The Ninth Key [ENOCHIAN || ENGLISH]
The Tenth Key [ENOCHIAN ||ENGLISH]
The Eleventh Key [ENOCHIAN || ENGLISH]
The Twelfth Key [ENOCHIAN ||ENGLISH]
The Thirteenth Key [ENOCHIAN || ENGLISH]
The Fourteenth Key [ENOCHIAN || ENGLISH]
The Fifteenth Key [ENOCHIAN || ENGLISH]
The Sixteenth Key [ENOCHIAN || ENGLISH]
The Seventeenth Key [ENOCHIAN || ENGLISH]
The Eighteenth Key [ENOCHIAN || ENGLISH]
The Nineteenth Key [ENOCHIAN || ENGLISH]
AFTERWORD by "The Webmaster"
INTRODUCTION by Burton H. Wolfe
On a winter's evening in 1967, I drove crosstown
in San Fransisco to hear Anton Szandor LaVey lecture at an open meeting of the Sexual Freedom League. I was attracted by newspaper articles describing him as "the Black Pope" of a Satanic church in which baptism, wedding, and funeral
ceremonies were dedicated to the Devil. I was a free-lance magazine writer, and
I felt there might be a story in LaVey and his contemporary pagans; for the
Devil has always made "good copy", as they say on the city desk.
It was not the practice of the black arts itself that I considered to be the
story, because that is nothing new in the world. There were Devil-worshipping
sects and voodoo cults before there were Christians. In eighteenth-century
England a Hell-Fire Club, with connections to the American colonies through
Benjamin Franklin, gained some brief notoriety. During the early part of the
twentieth century, the press publicized Aleister Crowley as the "wickedest man
in the world". And there were hints in the 1920s and '30s of a "black order" in
Germany.
To this seemingly old story LaVey and his organization of contemporary Faustians
offered two strikingly new chapters. First, they blasphemously represented
themselves as a "church", a term previously confined to the branches of
Christianity, instead of the traditional coven of Satanism and witchcraft lore.
Second, they practiced their black magic openly instead of underground.
Rather than arrange a preliminary interview with LaVey for discussion of his
heretical innovations, my usual first step in research, I decided to watch and
listen to him as an unidentified member of an audience. He was described in some
newspapers as a former circus and carnival lion tamer and trickster now
representing himself as the Devil's representative on earth, and I wanted to
determine first whether he was a true Satanist, a prankster, or a quack. I had
already met people in the limelight of the occult business; in fact, Jeane Dixon
was my landlady and I had a chance to write about her before Ruth Montgomery
did. But I had considered all the occultists phonies, hypocrites, or quacks, and
I would never spend five minutes writing about their various forms of
hocus-pocus.
All the occultists I had met or heard of were white-lighters: alleged seers,
prophesiers, and witches wrapping their supposedly mystic powers around
God-based, spiritual communication. LaVey, seeming to laugh at them if not spit
on them in contempt, emerged from between the lines of newspaper stories as a
black magician basing his work on the dark side of nature and the carnal side of
humanity. There seemed to be nothing spiritual about his "church".
As I listened to LaVey talk that first time, I realized at once there was
nothing to connect him with the occult business. He could not even be described
as metaphysical. The brutally frank talk he delivered was pragmatic,
relativistic, and above all rational. It was unorthodox, to be sure: a blast at
established religious worship, repression of humanity's carnal nature, phony
pretense at piety in the course of an existence based on dog-eat-dog material
pursuits. It was also full of sardonic satire on human folly. But most important
of all, the talk was logical. It was not quack magic that LaVey offered his
audience. It was common sense philosophy based on the realities of life.
After I became convinced of LaVey's sincerity, I had to convince him that I
intended to do some serious research instead of adding to the accumulation of
hack articles dealing with the Church of Satan as a new type of freak show. I
boned up on Satanism, discussed its history and rationale with LaVey, and
attended some midnight rituals in the famous Victorian manse once used as Church
of Satan headquarters. Out of all that I produced a serious article, only to
find that was not what the publishers of "respectable" magazines wanted. They
were interested in only the freak show kind of article. Finally, it was a
so-called "girlie" or "man's" magazine, Knight of September 1968, that published
the first definitive article on LaVey, the Church of Satan, and LaVey's
synthesis of the old Devil legends and black magic lore into the modern
philosophy and practice of Satanism that all followers and imitators now use as
their model, their guide, and even their Bible.
My magazine article was the beginning, not the end (as it has been with my other
writing subjects), of a long and intimate association. Out of it came my
biography of LaVey, The Devil's Avenger, published by Pryamid in 1974. After the
book was published, I became a card-carrying member and, subsequently, a priest
of the Church of Satan, a title I now proudly share with many celebrated
persons. The postmidnight philosophical discussions I began with LaVey in 1967
continue today, a decade later, supplemented sometimes these days by a nifty
witch or some of our own music, him on organ and me on drums, in a bizarre
cabaret populated by super-realistic humanoids of LaVey's creation.
All of LaVey's background seemed to prepare him for his role. He is the
descendant of Georgian, Roumanian, and Alsatian grandparents, including a gypsy
grandmother who passed on to him the legends of vampires and witches in her
native Transylvania. As early as the age of five, LaVey was reading Weird-Tales
magazines and books such as Mary Shelly's Frankenstein and Bram Stoker's
Dracula. Though he was different from other children, they appointed him as
leader in marches and maneuvers in mock military orders.
In 1942, when LaVey was twelve, his fascination with toy soldiers led to concern
over World War II. He delved into military manuals and discovered arsenals for
the equipment of armies and navies could be bought like groceries in a
supermarket and used to conquer nations. The idea took shape in his head that
contrary to what the Christian Bible said, the earth would not be inhereted by
the meek, but by the mighty.
In high school LaVey became something of an offbeat child prodigy. Reserving his
most serious studies for outside the school, he delved into music, metaphysics,
and secrets of the occult. At fifteen, he became second oboist in the San
Fransisco Ballet Symphony Orchestra. Bored with high school classes, LaVey
dropped out in his Junior year, left home, and joined the Clyde Beatty Circus as
a cage boy, watering and feeding the lions and tigers. Animal trainer Beatty
noticed that LaVey was comfortable working with the big cats and made him an
assistant trainer.
Possessed since childhood by a passion for the arts, for culture, LaVey was not
content merely with the excitement of training jungle beasts and working with
them in the ring as a fill-in for Beatty. By age ten he had taught himself to
play the piano by ear. This came in handy when the circus calliope player became
drunk before a performance and was unable to go on; LaVey volunteered to replace
him, confident he could handle the unfamiliar organ keyboard well enough to
provide the necessary background music. It turned out he knew more music and
played better than the regular calliopist, so Beatty cashiered the drunk and
installed LaVey at the instrument. He accompanied the "Human Cannonball", Hugo
Zachinni, and the Wallendas' high-wire acts, among others.
When LaVey was eighteen he left the circus and joined a carnival. There he
became assistant to a magician, learned hypnosis, and studied more about the
occult. It was a curious combination. On the one side he was working in an
atmosphere of life at its rawest level - of earthy music; the smell of wild
animals and sawdust; acts in which a second of missed timing meant accident or
death; performances that demanded youth and strength, and shed those who grew
old like last year's clothes; a world of physical excitement that had magical
attractions. On the other side, he was working with magic in the dark side of
the human brain. Perhaps the strange combination influenced the way he began to
view humanity as he played organ for carnival sideshows.
"On Saturday night," LaVey recalled in one of our long talks, "I would see men
lusting after half-naked girls dancing at the carnival, and on Sunday morning
when I was playing organ for tent-show evaneglists at the other end of the
carnival lot, I would see these same men sitting in the pews with their wives
and children, asking God to forgive them and purge them of carnal desires. And
the next Saturday night they'd be back at the carnival or some other place of
indulgence. I knew then that the Christian church thrives on hypocrisy, and that
man's carnal nature will out no matter how much it is purged or scourged by any
white-light religion."
Though LaVey did not realize it then, he was on his way toward formulating a
religion that would serve as the antithesis of Christianity and its Judaic
heritage. It was an old religion, older than Christianity or Judaism. But it had
never been formalized, arranged into a body of thought and ritual. That was to
become LaVey's role in twentieth-century civilization.
After LaVey became a married man himself in 1951, at age twenty-one, he
abandoned the wondrous world of the carnival to settle into a career better
suited for homemaking. He had been enrolled as a criminology major at the City
College of San Fransisco. That led to his first conformist job, photographer for
the San Fransisco Police Department. As it worked out, that job had as much to
do as any other with his development of Satanism as a way of life.
"I saw the bloodiest, grimiest side of human nature," LaVey recounted in a
session dealing with his past life. "People shot by nuts, knifed by their
friends; little kids splattered in the gutter by hit-and-run drivers. It was
disgusting and depressing. I asked myself: 'Where is God?' I came to detest the
sanctimonious attitude of people toward violence, always saying 'it's God's
will'."
So he quit in disgust after three years of being a crime photographer and
returned to playing organ, this time in nightclubs and theaters to earn a living
while he continued his studies into his life's passion: the black arts. Once a
week he held classes on arcane topics: hauntings, E.S.P., dreams, vampires,
werewolves, divination, ceremonial magic, etc. They attracted many people who
were, or have since become, well known in the arts and sciences, and the
business world. Eventually a "Magic Circle" evolved from this group.
The major purpose of the Circle was to meet for the performance of magical
rituals LaVey had discovered or devised. He had accumulated a library of works
that descibed the Black Mass and other infamous ceremonies conducted by groups
such as the Knights Templar in fourteenth-century France, the Hell-Fire club and
the Golden Dawn in eighteenth- and nineteenth-century England. The intent of
some of these secret orders was to blaspheme, lampoon the Christian church, and
address themselves to the Devil as an anthropomorphic deity that represented the
reverse of God. In LaVey's view, the Devil was not that, but rather a dark,
hidden force in nature responsible for the workings of earthly affairs, a force
for which neither science nor religion had any explanation. LaVey's Satan is
"the spirit of progress, the inspirer of all great movements that contribute to
the development of civilization and the advancement of mankind. He is the spirit
of revolt that leads to freedom, the embodiment of all heresies that liberate."
On the last night of April 1966 - Walpurgisnacht, the most important festival in
the lore of magic and witchcraft - LaVey ritualistically shaved his head in
accordance with magical tradition and announced the formation of the Church of
Satan. For proper identification as its minister, he put on the clerical collar.
Up to that collar he looked almost holy. But his Genghis Khan-like shaven head,
his Mephistophelian beard, and his narrow eyes gave him the necessary demonic
look for his priesthood of the Devil's church on earth.
"For one thing," LaVey explained himself, "calling it a church enabled me to
follow the magic formula of one part outrage to nine parts social respectability
that is needed for success. But the main purpose was to gather a group of
like-minded individuals together for the use of their combined energies in
calling up the dark force in nature that is called Satan."
As LaVey pointed out, all other churches are based on worship of the spirit and
denial of the flesh and the intellect. He saw the need for a church that would
recapture man's mind and carnal desires as objects of celebration. Rational
self-interest would be encouraged and a healthy ego championed.
He began to realize that the old concept of a Black Mass to satirize Christian
services was outmoded or, as he put it, "beating a dead horse". In the Church of
Satan, LaVey initiated some exhilarating psychodramas, in lieu of Christianity's
self-debasing services, thereby exorcising repressions and inhibitations
fostered by white-light religions.
There was a revolution in the Christian church itself against orthodox rites and
traditions. It had become popular to declare that "God is dead". So, the
alternative rites that LaVey worked out, while still maintaining some of the
trappings of ancient ceremonies, were changed from a negative mockery to
positive forms of celebrations and purges: Satanic weddings consecrating the
joys of the flesh, funerals devoid of sanctimonious platitudes, lust rituals to
help individuals attain their sex desires, destruction rituals to enable members
of the Satanic church to triumph over enemies.
On special occasions such as baptisms, weddings, and funerals in the name of the
Devil, press coverage, though unsolicited, was phenominal. By 1967 the
newspapers that were sending reporters to write about the Church of Satan
extended from San Fransisco across the Pacific to Tokyo and across the Atlantic
to Paris. A photo of a nude woman, half covered by a leopard skin, serving as an
altar to Satan in a LaVey-conceived wedding ceremony, was transmitted by major
wire services to daily newspapers everywhere: and it showed up on the front page
of such bulwarks of the media as the Los Angeles Times. As the result of the
publicity, grottos (LaVey's counterpart to covens) affiliated with the Church of
Satan spread throughout the world, proving one of LaVey's cardinal messages: the
Devil is alive and highly popular with a great many people.
Of course LaVey pointed out to anyone who would listen that the Devil to him and
his followers was not the stereotyped fellow cloaked in red garb, with horns,
tail and pitchfork, but rather the dark forces in nature that human beings are
just beginning to fathom. How did LaVey square that explanation with his own
appearance at times in black cowl with horns? He replied: "People need ritual,
with symbols such as those you find in baseball games or church services or
wars, as vehicles for expending emotions they can't release or even understand
on their own." Nevertheless, LaVey himself soon tired of the games.
There were setbacks. First, some of LaVey's neighbors began complaining about
the full-growm lion he was keeping as a house pet, and eventually the big cat
was donated to the local zoo. Next, one of LaVey's most devoted witches, Jayne
Mansfield, died under a curse he had placed on the head of her suitor, lawyer
Sam Brody, for a variety of reasons I have explained in The Devil's Avenger;
LaVey had persistently warned her away from Brody and felt depressed over her
death. It was the second tragic death in the sixties of a Hollywood sex symbol
with whom he had been intimately involved; the other was Marilyn Monroe, LaVey's
paramour for a brief but crucial period in 1948 when he had quit the carnival
and was playing organ for strippers around the Los Angeles area.
On top of all that, LaVey was tired of organizing entertainments and purges for
his church members. He had gotten in touch with the last living remnants of the
prewar occult fraternities of Europe, was busily acquiring their philosophies
and secret rituals left over from the pre-Hitler era, and needed time to study,
write and work out new principles. He had long been experimenting with and
applying the principles of geometric spacial concepts in what he terms "The Law
of the Trapezoid". (He scoffs at current faddists who are "barking up the wrong
pyramids".) He was also becoming widely sought as speaker, guest on radio and
television programs, and production and/or technical adviser to scores of
television producers and moviemakers turning out Satanic chillers. Sometimes he
was also an actor. As sociologist Clinton R. Sanders points out: "...no
occultist has had as direct an impact upon formulaic cinematic presentations of
Satanism as has Anton Szandor LaVey. Ritual and esoteric symbolism are central
elements in LaVey's church and the films in which he has had a hand contain
detailed portrayals of Satanic rites and are filled with traditional occult
symbols. The emphasis upon ritual in the Church of Satan is 'intended to focus
the emotional powers within each individual'. Similarly, the ornate ritualism
that is central to LaVey's films may reasonably be seen as a mechanism to
involve and focus the emotional experience of the cinema audience."
At last LaVey decided to transfer rituals and other organized activities to
Church of Satan grottos around the world, and devote himself to writing,
lecturing, teaching - and to his family: wife Diane, the blonde beauty who
serves as High Priestess of the Church; raven-haired daughter Karla, now in her
early twenties, a criminology major like her father before, spending much of her
time lecturing on Satanism at universities in many parts of the country; and
finally Zeena, remembered by people who saw the famous photo of the Satanic
Church baptism as a tiny tot, but now a gorgeously developed teenager attracting
a growing pack of wolves, human male variety.
Out of LaVey's relatively quiescent period came his widely read, pioneering
books: First, The Satanic Bible, which at this writing is in its twelfth edition
(and this is my second, revised introduction, after having written the original
introduction to the first edition). Second, The Satanic Rituals, which covers
more of the somber, complex material LaVey unearthed from his increasing
sources. And third, The Compleat Witch, a bestseller in Italy, but, sadly,
allowed by its American publisher to go out of print with its potential
unfulfilled.
LaVey's spreading out from organized church activities to writing books for
worldwide distribution has, of course, greatly expanded Church of Satan
membership. Satanism's growing popularity has naturally been accompanied by
scare stories from religious groups complaining that The Satanic Bible now
outsells the Christian Bible on college campuses and is a leading causative
factor in youngsters' turning away from God. And certainly one suspects that
Pope Paul had LaVey in mind when he issued his worldwide proclamation two years
ago that the Devil is "alive" and "a person", a living, fire-breathing character
spreading evil over the earth. LaVey, maintaining that "evil" is "live" spelled
backward and should be indulged in and enjoyed, answers the pope and the
religious scare groups this way:
"People, organizations, nations are making millions of dollars off us. What
would they do without us? Without the Church of Satan, they wouldn't have
anybody to rage at and to take the blame for all the rotten things happening in
the world. If they really feel this way, they shouldn't have blown us out of
proportion. What you really have to believe instead is that they are the
charlatans, and they're really glad to have us around so they can exploit us.
We're an extremely valuable commodity. We've helped business, lifted up the
economy, and some of the millions of dollars we have generated have in turn
flowed into the Christian church. We have proved many times over the Ninth
Satanic Statement that says the church - and countless individuals - cannot
exist without the Devil."
For that the Christian church must pay a price. The events that LaVey predicted
in the first edition of The Satanic Bible have come to pass. Repressed people
have burst their bonds. Sex has exploded, the collective libido has been
released, in movies and literature, on the streets, and in the home. People are
dancing topless and bottomless. Nuns have throwm off their traditional habits,
exposed their legs, and danced the "Missa Solemnis Rock" that LaVey thought he
was conjuring up as a prank. There is a ceaseless universal quest for
entertainment, gourmet foods and wines, adventure, enjoyment of the here and
now. Humanity is no longer willing to wait for any afterlife that promises to
reward the clean, pure - translate: ascetic, drab - spirit. There is a mood of
neopaganism and hedonism, and from it there have emerged a wide variety of
brilliant individuals - doctors, lawyers, engineers, teachers, writers,
stockbrokers, real estate developers, actors and actresses, mass communications
media people (to cite a few categories of Satanists) - who are interested in
formalizing and perpetuating this all-pervading religion and way of life.
It is not an easy religion to adopt in a society ruled so long by Puritan
ethics. There is no false altruism or mandatory love-thy-neighbor concept in
this religion. Satanism is a blatantly selfish, brutal philosophy. It is based
on the belief that human beings are inherently selfish, violent creatures, that
life is a Darwinian struggle for survival of the fittest, that only the strong
survive and the earth will be ruled by those who fight to win the ceaseless
competition that exists in all jungles - including those of urbanized society.
Abhor this brutal outlook if you will; it is based, as it has been for
centuries, on real conditions that exist in the world we inhabit rather than the
mystical lands of milk and honey depicted in the Christian Bible.
In The Satanic Bible, Anton LaVey has explained the philosophy of Satanism more
profoundly than any of his ancestors in the Kingdom of Darkness, while
describing in detail the innovative rituals and trappings he has devised to
create a church of realists. It has been clear from the first edition that many
people want to read this book to learn how to start Satanic groups and ritualize
black magic. The Satanic Bible and The Satanic Rituals are the only books that
have demonstrated, in a way that is authentic and true to relevant traditions,
how all of that can be done. There have been many imitators, never attributing
their source, and with good reason; because once the shabbiness and shallowness
of the imitators have been compared to LaVey's pioneering work, there can no
longer be any market for the ripoff artists.
The evidence is clear to any who are willing to view the record: Anton LaVey
brought Satan out of the closet and the Church of Satan is the fountainhead of
contemporary Satanism. This book summarizes the message both convey, and remains
both challenge and inspiration, as timely today as when it was written.
SAN FRANSISCO December 25, 1976 (XI Anno Satanas)
PREFACE
This book was written because, with very few exceptions, every tract and
paper, every "secret" grimoire, all the "great works" on the subject of magic,
are nothing more than sanctimonious fraud - guilt-ridden ramblings and esoteric
gibberish by chroniclers of magical lore unable or unwilling to present an
objective view of the subject. Writer after writer, in efforts to state the
principles of "white and black magic", has succeeded instead in clouding the
entire issue so badly that the would-be student of sorcery winds up stupidly
pushing a planchette over a Ouija board, standing inside a pentagram waiting for
a demon to present itself, limply tossing I-Ching yarrow stalks like so many
stale pretzels, shuffling pasteboards to foretell a future which has lost any
meaning, attending seminars guaranteed to flatten his ego - while doing the same
to his wallet - and in general making a blithering fool of himself in the eyes
of those who know!
The true magus knows that occult bookshelves abound with the brittle relics of
frightened minds and sterile bodies, metaphysical journals of self-deceit, and
constipated rule-books of Eastern mysticism. Far too long has the subject of
Satanic magic and philosophy been written down by wild-eyed journalists of the
right-hand path.
The old literature is the by-product of brains festering with fear and defeat,
written unknowingly for the assistance of those who really rule the earth, and
who, from their Hellish thrones, laugh with noisome mirth.
The flames of Hell burn brighter for the kindling supplied by these volumes of
hoary misinformation and false prophecy.
Herein you will find truth - and fantasy. Each is necessary for the other to
exist; but each must be recognized for what it is. What you see may not always
please you; but you will see!
Here is Satanic thought from a truly Satanic point of view.
The Church of Satan San Fransisco, Walpurgisnacht 1968
PROLOGUE
The gods of the right-hand path have bickered and quarreled for an
entire age of earth. Each of these deities and their respective priests and
ministers have attempted to find wisdom in their own lies. The ice age of
religious thought can last but a limited time in this great scheme of human
existence. The gods of wisdom-defiled have had their saga, and their millennium
hath become as reality. Each, with his own "divine" path to paradise, hath
accused the other of heresies and spiritual indiscretions. The Ring of the
Nibelungen doth carry an everlasting curse, but only because those who seek it
think in terms of "Good" and "Evil" - themselves being at all times "Good". The
gods of the past have become as their own devils in order to live. Feebly, their
ministers play the devil's game to fill their tabernacles and pay the mortgages
on their temples. Alas, too long have they studied "righteousness", and poor and
incompetent devils they make. So they all join hands in "brotherly" unity, and
in their desperation go to Valhalla for their last great ecumenical council.
"Draweth near in the gloom the twilight of the gods." The ravens of night have
flown forth to summon Loki, who hath set Valhalla aflame with the searing
trident of the Inferno. The twilight is done. A glow of new light is borne out
of the night and Lucifer is risen, once more to proclaim: "This is the age of
Satan! Satan Rules the Earth!" The gods of the unjust are dead. This is the
morning of magic, and undefiled wisdom. The FLESH prevaileth and a great Church
shall be builded, consecrated in its name. No longer shall man's salvation be
dependent on his self-denial. And it will be known that the world of the flesh
and the living shall be the greatest preparation for any and all eternal
delights!
REGIE SATANAS!
AVE SATANAS!
HAIL SATAN!
THE NINE SATANIC STATEMENTS
1. Satan represents indulgence, instead of abstinence!
2. Satan represents vital existence, instead of spiritual pipe dreams!
3. Satan represents
undefiled wisdom, instead of hypocritical self-deceit!
4. Satan represents kindness to those who deserve it, instead of love wasted on ingrates!
5. Satan represents vengeance, instead of turning the other cheek!
6. Satan represents
responsibility to the responsible, instead of concern for psychic vampires!
7. Satan represents man as just another animal, sometimes better, more often worse
than those that walk on all-fours, who, because of his "divine spiritual and
intellectual development", has become the most vicious animal of all!
8. Satan represents all of the so-called sins, as they all lead to physical, mental, or
emotional gratification!
9. Satan has been the best friend the church has everhad, as he has kept it in business all these years!
(FIRE)
THE BOOK OF SATAN
THE INFERNAL DIATRIBE
The first book of the Satanic Bible is not an attempt to
blaspheme as much as it is a statement of what might be termed "diabolical
indignation". The Devil has been attacked by the men of God relentlessly and
without reservation. Never has there been an opportunity, short of fiction, for
the Dark Prince to speak out in the same manner as the spokesmen of the Lord of
the Righteous. The pulpit-pounders of the past have been free to define "good"
and "evil" as they see fit, and have gladly smashed into oblivion any who
disagree with their lies - both verbally and, at times, physically. Their talk
of "charity", when applied to His Infernal Majesty, becomes an empty sham - and
most unfairly, too, considering the obvious fact that without their Satanic foe
their very religions would collapse. How sad, that the allegorical personage
most responsible for the success of spiritual religions is shown the least
amount of charity and the most consistent abuse - and by those who most
unctuously preach the rules of fair play! For all the centuries of shouting-down
the Devil has received, he has never shouted back at his detractors. He has
remained the gentleman at all times, while those he supports rant and rave. He
has shown himself to be a model of deportment, but now he feels it is time to
shout back. He has decided it is finally time to receive his due. Now the
ponderous rule-books of hypocrisy are no longer needed. In order to relearn the
Law of the Jungle, a small, slim diatribe will do. Each verse is an inferno.
Each word is a tongue of fire. The flames of Hell burn fierce . . . and purify!
Read on and learn the Law.
THE BOOK OF SATAN
I
1. In this arid wilderness of steel and stone I raise up my voice that you may
hear. To the East and to the West I beckon. To the North and to the South I show
a sign proclaiming: Death to the weakling, wealth to the strong!
2. Open your eyes that you may see, Oh men of mildewed minds, and listen to me ye bewildered millions!
3. For I stand forth to challenge the wisdom of the world; to
interrogate the "laws" of man and of "God"!
4. I request reason for your goldenrule and ask the why and wherefore of your ten commandments.
5. Before none of your printed idols do I bend in acquiescence, and he who saith "thou shalt" to me is my mortal foe!
6. I dip my forefinger in the watery blood of your impotent mad redeemer, and write over his thorn-torn brow: The TRUE prince of evil - the king of slaves!
7. No hoary falsehood shall be a truth to me; no stifling dogma shall encramp my pen!
8. I break away from all conventions that
do not lead to my earthly success and happiness.
9. I raise up in stern invasion the standard of the strong!
10. I gaze into the glassy eye of your fearsome Jehovah, and pluck him by the beard; I uplift a broad-axe, and split open his worm-eaten skull!
11. I blast out the ghastly contents of philosophically whited sepulchers and laugh with sardonic wrath!
THE BOOK OF SATAN
II
Behold the crucifix; what does it symbolize? Pallid incompetence hanging on a
tree. I question all things. As I stand before the festering and varnished
facades of your haughtiest moral dogmas, I write thereon in letters of blazing
scorn: Lo and behold; all this is fraud! Gather around me, Oh! ye
death-defiant, and the earth itself shall be thine, to have and to hold! Too
long the dead hand has been permitted to sterilize living thought! Too long
right and wrong, good and evil have been inverted by false prophets! No creed
must be accepted upon authority of a "divine" nature. Religions must be put to
the question. No moral dogma must be taken for granted - no standard of
measurement deified. There is nothing inherently sacred about moral codes. Like
the wooden idols of long ago, they are the work of human hands, and what man has
made, man can destroy! He that is slow to believe anything and everything is of
great understanding, for belief in one false principle is the beginning of all
unwisdom. The chief duty of every new age is to upraise new men to determine
its liberties, to lead it towards material success - to rend the rusty padlocks
and chains of dead custom that always prevent healthy expansion. Theories and
ideas that may have meant life and hope and freedom for our ancestors may now
mean destruction, slavery, and dishonor to us! As environments change, no human
ideal standeth sure! Whenever, therefore, a lie has built unto itself a throne,
let it be assailed without pity and without regret, for under the domination of
an inconvenient falsehood, no one can prosper. Let established sophisms be
dethroned, rooted out, burnt and destroyed, for they are a standing menace to
all true nobility of thought and action! Whatever alleged "truth" is proven by
results to be but an empty fiction, let it be unceremoniously flung into the
outer darkness, among the dead gods, dead empires, dead philosophies, and other
useless lumber and wreckage! The most dangerous of all enthroned lies is the
holy, the sanctified, the privileged lie - the lie everyone believes to be a
model truth. It is the fruitful mother of all other popular errors and
delusions. It is a hydra-headed tree of unreason with a thousand roots. It is a
social cancer! The lie that is known to be a lie is half eradicated, but the
lie that even intelligent persons accept as fact - the lie that has been
inculcated in a little child at its mother's knee - is more dangerous to contend
against than a creeping pestilence! Popular lies have ever been the most potent
enemies of personal liberty. There is only one way to deal with them: Cut them
out, to the very core, just as cancers. Exterminate them root and branch.
Annihilate them, or they will us!
THE BOOK OF SATAN
III
"Love one another" it has been said is the supreme law, but what power made
it so? Upon what rational authority does the gospel of love rest? Why should I
not hate mine enemies - if I "love" them does that not place me at their mercy?
Is it natural for enemies to do good unto each other - and WHAT IS GOOD? Can
the torn and bloody victim "love" the blood-splashed jaws that rend him limb
from limb? Are we not all predatory animals by instinct? If humans ceased
wholly from preying upon each other, could they continue to exist? Is not "lust
and carnal desire" a more truthful term to describe "love" when applied to the
continuance of the race? Is not the "love" of the fawning scriptures simply a
euphemism for sexual activity, or was the "great teacher" a glorifier of
eunuchs? Love your enemies and do good to them that hate and use you - is this
not the despicable philosophy of the spaniel that rolls upon its back when
kicked? Hate your enemies with a whole heart, and if a man smite you on one
cheek, SMASH him on the other!; smite him hip and thigh, for self-preservation
is the highest law! He who turns the other cheek is a cowardly dog! Give blow
for blow, scorn for scorn, doom for doom - with compound interest liberally
added thereunto! Eye for eye, tooth for tooth, aye four-fold, a hundred-fold!
Make yourself a Terror to your adversary, and when he goeth his way, he will
possess much additional wisdom to ruminate over. Thus shall you make yourself
respected in all the walks of life, and your spirit - your immortal spirit -
shall live, not in an intangible paradise, but in the brains and sinews of those
whose respect you have gained.
THE BOOK OF SATAN
IV
Life is the great indulgence - death, the great abstinence. Therefore, make
the most of life - HERE AND NOW! There is no heaven of glory bright, and no
hell where sinners roast. Here and now is our day of torment! Here and now is
our day of joy! Here and now is our opportunity! Choose ye this day, this hour,
for no redeemer liveth! Say unto thine own heart, "I am mine own redeemer."
Stop the way of them that would persecute you. Let those who devise thine
undoing be hurled back to confusion and infamy. Let them be as chaff before the
cyclone and after they have fallen rejoice in thine own salvation. Then all thy
bones shall say pridefully, "Who is like unto me? Have I not been too strong for
mine adversaries? Have I not delivered MYSELF by mine own brain and body?"
THE BOOK OF SATAN
V
Blessed are the strong, for they shall possess the earth - Cursed are the
weak, for they shall inherit the yoke! Blessed are the powerful, for they shall
be reverenced among men - Cursed are the feeble, for they shall be blotted out!
Blessed are the bold, for they shall be masters of the world - Cursed are the
righteously humble, for they shall be trodden under cloven hoofs! Blessed are
the victorious, for victory is the basis of right - Cursed are the vanquished,
for they shall be vassals forever! Blessed are the iron-handed, for the unfit
shall flee before them - Cursed are the poor in spirit, for they shall be spat
upon! Blessed are the death-defiant, for their days shall be long in the land -
Cursed are the gazers toward a richer life beyond the grave, for they shall
perish amidst plenty! Blessed are the destroyers of false hope, for they are
the true Messiahs - Cursed are the god-adorers, for they shall be shorn sheep!
Blessed are the valiant, for they shall obtain great treasure - Cursed are the
believers in good and evil, for they are frightened by shadows! Blessed are
those that believe in what is best for them, for never shall their minds be
terrorized - Cursed are the "lambs of God", for they shall be bled whiter than
snow! Blessed is the man who has a sprinkling of enemies, for they shall make
him a hero - Cursed is he who doeth good unto others who sneer upon him in
return, for he shall be despised! Blessed are the mighty-minded, for they shall
ride the whirlwinds - Cursed are they who teach lies for truth and truth for
lies, for they are an abomination! Thrice cursed are the weak whose insecurity
makes them vile, for they shall serve and suffer! The angel of self-deceit is
camped in the souls of the "righteous" - The eternal flame of power through joy
dwelleth within the flesh of the Satanist!
(AIR)
THE BOOK OF LUCIFER
THE ENLIGHTENMENT
The Roman god, Lucifer, was the bearer of light, the spirit of
the air, the personification of enlightenment. In Christian mythology he became
synonymous with evil, which was only to have been expected from a religion whose
very existence is perpetuated by clouded definitions and bogus values! It is
time to set the record straight. False moralisms and occult inaccuracies must be
corrected. Entertaining as they might be, most stories and plays about Devil
worship must be recognized as the obsolete absurdities they are. It has been
said "the truth will make men free". The truth alone has never set anyone free.
It is only DOUBT which will bring mental emancipation. Without the wonderful
element of doubt, the doorway through which truth passes would be tightly shut,
impervious to the most strenuous poundings of a thousand Lucifers. How
understandable that Holy Scripture should refer to the Infernal monarch as the
"father of lies" - a magnificent example of character inversion. If one is to
believe this theological accusation that the Devil represents falsehood, then it
surely must be concurred that it was HE, NOT GOD, THAT ESTABLISHED ALL SPIRITUAL RELIGIONS AND WHO WROTE ALL OF THE HOLY BIBLES! When one doubt is followed by another, the bubble, grown large from long accumulated fallacies, threatens to burst. For those who already doubt supposed truths, this book is revelation.
Then Lucifer will have risen. Now is the time for doubt! The bubble of falsehood is bursting and its sound is the roar of the world!
W A N T E D ! - GOD DEAD OR ALIVE
IT is a popular misconception that the
Satanist does not believe in God. The concept of "God", as interpreted by man,
has been so varied throughout the ages, that the Satanist simply accepts the
definition which suits him best. Man has always created his gods, rather than
his gods creating him. God is, to some, benign - to others, terrifying. To the
Satanist "God" - by whatever name he is called, or by no name at all - is seen
as the balancing factor in nature, and not as being concerned with suffering.
This powerful force which permeates and balances the universe is far too
impersonal to care about the happiness or misery of flesh-and-blood creatures on
this ball of dirt upon which we live.
Anyone who thinks of Satan as evil should consider all the men, women, children,
and animals who have died because it was "God's will". Certainly a person
grieving the untimely loss of a loved one whould much rather have their loved
one with them than in God's hands! Instead, they are unctuously consoled by
their clergyman who says, "It was God's will, my dear"; or "He is in God's hands
now, my son." Such phrases have been a convenient way for religionists to
condone or excuse the mercilessness of God. But if God is in complete control
and as benign as he is supposed to be, why does He allow these things to happen?
Too long have religionists been falling back on their bibles and rulebooks to
prove or disprove, justify, condemn, or interpret.
The Satanist realizes that man, and the action and reaction of the universe, is
responsible for everything, and doesn't mislead himself into thinking that
someone cares. No longer will we sit back and accept "fate" without doing
anything about it, just because it says so in Chapter such and such, Psalm so
and so - and that's that! The Satanist knows that praying does absolutely no
good - in fact, it actually lessens the chance of success, for the devoutly
religious too often sit back complacently and pray for a situation which, if
they were to do something about it on their own, could be accomplished much
quicker!
The Satanist shuns terms such as "hope" and "prayer" as they are indicative of
apprehension. If we hope and pray for something to come about, we will not act
in a positive way which will make it happen. The Satanist, realizing that
anything he gets is of his own doing, takes command of the situation instead of
praying to God for it to happen. Positive thinking and positive action add up to
results.
Just as the Satanist does not pray to God for assistance, he does not pray for
forgiveness for his wrong doings. In other religions, when one commits a wrong
he either prays to God for forgiveness, or confesses to an intermediary and asks
him to pray to God for forgiveness for his sins. The Satanist knows that praying
does no good, confessing to another human being, like himself, accomplishes even
less - and is, furthermore, degrading.
When a Satanist commits a wrong, he realizes that it is natural to make a
mistake - and if he is truly sorry about what he has done, he will learn from it
and take care not to do the same thing again. If he is not honestly sorry about
what he has done, and knows he will do the same thing over and over, he has no
business confessing and asking forgiveness in the first place. But this is
exactly what happens. People confess their sins so that they can clear their
consciences - and be free to go out and sin again, usually the same sin.
There are many diferent interpretations of God, in the usual sense of the word,
as there are types of people. The images run from a belief in a god who is some
vague sort of "universal cosmic mind" to an anthropomorphic deity with a long
white beard and sandals who keeps track of every action of each individual.
Even within the confines of a given religion, the personal interpretations of
God differ greatly. Some religions actually go so far as to label anyone who
belongs to a religious sect other than their own a heretic, even though the
overall doctrines and impressions of godliness are nearly the same. For example:
The Catholics believe that the Protestants are doomed to Hell simply because
they do not belong to the Catholic Church. In the same way, many splinter groups
of the Christian faith, such as the evangelical or revivalist churches, believe
that the Catholics are heathens who worship graven images. (Christ is depicted
in the image that is most psychologically akin to the individual worshipping
him, and yet the Chrisitans criticize "heathens" for the worship of graven
images.) And the Jews have always been given the Devil's name.
Even though the god in all of these religions is basically the same, each
regards the way chosen by the others as reprehensible, and to top it all,
religionists actually PRAY for one another! They have scorn for the brothers of
the right-hand path because their religions carry different labels, and somehow
this animosity must be released. What better way than through "prayer"! What a
simperingly polite way of saying: "I hate your guts," is the thinly disguised
device known as praying for your enemy! Praying for one's own enemy is nothing
more than bargain-basement anger, and of a decidedly shoddy and inferior
quality!
If there has been so much violent discrepancy as to the proper way in which to
worship God, how many different interpretations of God can there be - and who is
right?
All devout "white-lighters" are concerned with pleasing God so that they might
have the "Pearly Gates" opened for them when they die. Nevertheless, if a man
has not lived his life in accordance with the regulations of his faith, he can
at the last minute call a clergyman to his deathbed for a final absolution. The
priest or minister will then come running on the double, to "make everything
right" with God and see to it that his passport to the Heavenly Realm is in
order. (The Yezidis, a sect of Devil worshippers, take a different viewpoint.
They believe that God is all-powerful, but also all-forgiving, and so
accordingly feel that it is the Devil whom they must please, as he is the one
who rules their lives while here on earth. They believe so strongly that God
will forgive all of their sins once they have been given the last rites, that
they feel no need to concern themselves with the opinion God may hold of them
while they live.)
With all of the contradictions in the Christian scriptures, many people
currently cannot rationally accept Christianity the way it has been practiced in
the past. Great numbers of people are beginning to doubt the existence of God,
in the established Christian sense of the word. So, they have taken to calling
themselves "Christian Atheists". True, the Christian Bible is a mass of
contradictions; but what could be more contradictory than the term "Christian
Atheist"?
If prominent leaders of the Christian faith are rejecting the past
interpretations of God, how then can their followers be expected to adhere to
previous religious tradition?
With all the debates about whether or not God is dead, if he isn't he had better
have MEDICARE!
THE GOD YOU SAVE MAY BE YOURSELF
ALL religions of aspiritual nature are inventions of man. He has created an entire system of godswith nothing more than his carnal brain. Just because he has an ego, and cannotaccept it, he has to externalize it into some great spiritual device which he calls "God".
God can do all the things man is forbidden to do - such as kill people, perform
miracles to gratify his will, control without any apparent responsibility, etc.
If man needs such a god and recognizes that god, then he is worshipping an
entity that a human being invented. Therefore, HE IS WORSHIPPING BY PROXY THE
MAN THAT INVENTED GOD. Is it not more sensible to worship a god that he,
himself, has created, in accordance with his own emotional needs - one that best
represents the very carnal and physical being that has the idea-power to invent
a god in the first place?
If man insists on externalizing his true self in the form of "God", then why
fear his true self, in fearing "God", - why praise his true self in praising
"God", - why remain externalized from "God" IN ORDER TO ENGAGE IN RITUAL AND RELIGIOUS CEREMONY IN HIS NAME?
Man needs ritual and dogma, but no law states that an externalized god is
necessary in order to engage in ritual and ceremony performed in a god's name!
Could it be that when he closes the gap between himself and his "God" he sees
the demon of pride creeping forth - that very embodiment of Lucifer appearing in
his midst? He no longer can view himself in two parts, the carnal and the
spiritual, but sees them merge as one, and then to his abysmal horror, discovers
that they are only the carnal - AND ALWAYS WERE! Then he either hates himself to
death, day by day - or rejoices that he is what he is!
If he hates himself, he searches out new and more complex spiritual paths of
"enlightenment" in hopes that he may split himself up again in his quest for
stronger and more externalized "gods" to scourge his poor miserable shell. If he
accepts himself, but recognizes that ritual and ceremony are the important
devices that his invented religions have utilized to sustain his faith in a lie,
then it is the SAME FORM OF RITUAL that will sustain his faith in the truth -
the primitive pageantry that will give his awareness of his own majestic being
added substance.
When all religious faith in lies has waned, it is because man has become closer
to himself and farther from "God"; closer to the "Devil." If this is what the
devil represents, and a man lives his life in the devil's fane, with the sinews
of Satan moving in his flesh, then he either escapes from the cacklings and
carpings of the righteous, or stands proudly in his secret places of the earth
and manipulates the folly-ridden masses through his own Satanic might, until
that day when he may come forth in splendor proclaiming "I AM A SATANIST! BOW
DOWN, FOR I AM THE HIGHEST EMBODIMENT OF HUMAN LIFE!"
SOME EVIDENCE OF A NEW SATANIC AGE
THE seven deadly sins of the Christian Church are: greed, pride,
envy, anger, gluttony, lust, and sloth. Satanism advocates indulging in each of
these "sins" as they all lead to physical, mental, or emotional gratification.
A Satanist knows there is nothing wrong with being greedy, as it only means that
he wants more than he already has. Envy means to look with favor upon the
possessions of others, and to be desirous of obtaining similar things for
oneself. Envy and greed are the motivating forces of ambition - and without
ambition, very little of any importance would be accomplished.
Gluttony is simply eating more than you need to keep yourself alive. When you
have overeaten to the point of obesity, another sin - pride - will motivate you
to regain an appearance that will renew your self-respect.
Anyone who buys an article of clothing for a purpose other than covering his
body and protecting it from the elements is guilty of pride. Satanists often
encounter scoffers who maintain that labels are not necessary. It must be
pointed out to these destroyers of labels that one or many articles they
themselves are wearing are not wearing are not necessary to keep them warm.
There is not a person on this earth who is completely devoid of ornamentation.
The Satanist points out that any ornamentation of the scoffer's body shows that
he, too, is guilty of pride. Regardless of how verbose the cynic may be in his
intellectual description of how free he is, he is still wearing the elements of
pride.
Being reluctant to get up in the morning is to be guilty of sloth, and if you
lie in bed long enough you may find yourself commiting yet another sin - lust.
To have the faintest stirring of sexual desire is to be guilty of lust. In order
to insure the propagation of humanity, nature made lust the second most powerful
instinct, the first being self-preservation. Realizing this, the Christian
Church made fornication the "Original Sin". In this way they made sure no one
would escape sin. Your very state of being is as a result of sin - the Original
sin!
The strongest instinct in every living thing is self-preservation, which brings
us to the last of the seven deadly sins - anger. Is it not our instinct for
self-preservation that is aroused when someone harms us, when we become angry
enough to protect ourselves from further attack? A Satanist practices the motto,
"If a man smite thee on one cheek, smash him on the other!" Let no wrong go
unredressed. Be as a lion in the path - be dangerous even in defeat!
Since man's natural instincts lead him to sin, all men are sinners; and all
sinners go to hell. If everyone goes to hell, then you will meet all your
friends there. Heaven must be populated with some rather strange creatures if
all they lived for was to go to a place where they can strum harps for eternity.
"Times have changed. Religious leaders no longer preach that all our natural
actions are sinful. We no longer think sex is dirty - or that taking pride in
ourselves is shameful - or that wanting something someone else has is vicious."
Of course not, times have changed! "If you want proof of this, just look at how
liberal churches have become. Why, they're practicing all the things that you
preach."
Satanists hear these, and similar statements, all the time; and they agree
wholeheartedly. BUT, if the world has changed so much, why continue to grasp at
the threads of a dying faith? If many religions are denying their own scriptures
because they are out of date, and are preaching the philosophies of Satanism,
why not call it by its rightful name - Satanism? Certainly it would be far less
hypocritical.
In recent years there has been an attempt to humanize the spiritual concept of
Christianity. This has manifested itself in the most obvious non-spiritual
means. Masses which had been said in Latin are now said in native languages -
which only succeeds in making the nonsense easier to understand, and at the same
time robs the ceremony of the esoteric nature which is consistent with the
tenets of the dogma. It is much simpler to obtain an emotional reaction using
words and phrases that cannot be understood than it is with statements which
even the simplest mind will question when hearing them in an understandable
language.
If priests and ministers were to have used the devices to fill their churches
one hundred years ago that they use today, they would have been charged with
heresy, called devils, oft-times persecuted, but certainly excommunicated
without hesitation.
The religionists wail, "We must keep up with the times," forgetting that, due to
limiting factors and deeply engrained laws of white light religions, there can
never be sufficient change to meet the needs of man.
Past religions have always represented the spiritual nature of man, with little
or no concern for his carnal or mundane needs. They have considered this life
but transitory, and the flesh merely a shell; physical pleasure trivial, and
pain a worthwhile preparation for the "Kingdom of God". How well the utter
hypocrisy comes forth when the "righteous" make a change in their religion to
keep up with man's natural change! The only way that Christianity can ever
completely serve the needs of man is to become as Satanism is NOW.
It has become necessary for a NEW religion, based on man's natural instincts, to
come forth. THEY have named it. It is called Satanism. It is that power
condemned that has caused the religious controversy over birth-control measures
- a disgruntled admission that sexual activity, for fun, is here to stay.
It is the "Devil" who caused women to show their legs, to titillate men - the
same kind of legs, now socially acceptable to gaze upon, which are revealed by
young nuns as they walk about in their shortened habits. What a delightful step
in the right (or left) direction! Is it possible we will soon see "topless" nuns
sensually throwing their bodies about to the "Missa Solemnis Rock"? Satan smiles
and says he would like that fine - many nuns are very pretty girls with nice
legs.
Many churches with some of the largest congregations have the most
hand-clapping, sensual music - also Satanically inspired. After all, the Devil
has always had the best tunes.
Church picnics, despite all of Aunt Martha's talk about the Lord's Bountiful
Harvest, are nothing more than a good excuse for Sunday gluttony; and everyone
knows that lots more than Bible reading goes on in the bushes.
The fund-raising adjunct to many church bazaars is commonly known as a carnival,
which used to mean the celebration of the flesh; now a carnival is okay because
the money goes to the church so that it can preach against the temptations of
the Devil! It will be said that these things are only pagan devices and
ceremonies - that the Christians borrowed them. True, but the Pagans revelled in
the delights of the flesh, and were condemned by the very same people who
celebrate their rituals, but call them by different names.
Priests and ministers are in the front lines of peace demonstrations, and lying
on railroad tracks in front of trains carrying war materials, with as much
dedication as their brothers of the cloth, from the same seminaries, who are
blessing the bullets and bombs and fighting men as chaplains in the armed
forces. Someone must be wrong, someplace. Could it be that Satan is the one
qualified to act as accuser? Certainly they named him that!
When a puppy reaches maturity it becomes a dog; when ice melts it is called
water; when twelve months have been used up, we get a new calendar with the
proper chronological name; when "magic" becomes scientific fact we refer to it
as medicine, astronomy, etc. When one name is no longer appropriate for a given
thing it is only logical to change it to a new one which better fits the
subject. Why, then, do we not follow suit in the area of religion? Why continue
to call a religion the same name when the tenets of that religion no longer fit
the original one? Or, if religion does preach the same things that it always
has, but its followers practice nearly none of its teachings, why do they
continue to call themselves by the name given to followers of that religion?
If you do not believe in what your religion teaches, why continue to support a
belief which is contradictory with your feelings. You would never vote for a
person or issue you did not believe in, so why cast your ecclesiastical vote for
a religion which is not consistent with your convictions? You have no right to
complain about a political situation you have voted for or supported in any way
- which includes sitting back and complacently agreeing with neighbors who
approve the situation, just because you are too lazy or cowardly to speak your
mind. So it is with religious balloting. Even if you cannot be aggressively
honest about your opinions because of unfavorable consequences from employers,
community leaders, etc., you can, at least, be honest with yourself. In the
privacy of your own home and with close friends you must support religion which
has YOUR best interests at heart.
"Satanism is based on a very sound philosophy," say the emancipated. "But why
call it Satanism? Why not call it something like 'Humanism' or a name that would
have the connotation of a witchcraft group, something a little more esoteric -
something less blatant." There is more than one reason for this. Humanism is not
a religion. It is simply a way of life with no ceremony or dogma. Satanism has
both ceremony and dogma. Dogma, as will be explained, is necessary.
Satanism differs greatly from all other so-called white-light, "white"
witchcraft or magical groups in the world today. These self-righteous and
supercilious religions protest that their members use the powers of magic only
for altruistic purposes. Satanists look with disdain upon "white" witchcraft
groups because they feel that altruism is sinning on the lay-away plan. It is
unnatural not to have desire to gain things for yourself. Satanism represents a
form of controlled selfishness. This does not mean that you never do anything
for anyone else. If you do something to make someone for whom you care happy,
his happiness will give you a sense of gratification.
Satanism advocates practicing a modified form of the Golden Rule. Our
interpretation of this rule is: "Do unto others as they do unto you"; because if
you "Do unto others as you would have them do unto you," and they, in turn,
treat you badly, it goes against human nature to continue to treat them with
consideration. You should do unto others as you would have them do unto you, but
if your courtesy is not returned, they should be treated with the wrath they
deserve.
White witchcraft groups say that if you curse a person, it will return to you
three-fold, come home to roost, or in some way boomerang back to the sender.
This is yet another indication of the guilt-ridden philosophy which is held by
these neo-Pagan, pseudo-Christian groups. White witches want to delve into
witchcraft, but cannot divorce themselves from the stigma attached to it.
Therefore, they call themselves white magicians, and base seventy-five per cent
of their philosophy on the trite and hackneyed tenets of Christianity. Anyone
who pretends to be interested in magic or the occult for reasons other that
gaining personal power is the worst kind of hypocrite. The Satanist respects
Christianity for, at least, being consistent in its guilt-ridden philosophy, but
can only feel contempt for the people who attempt to appear emancipated from
guilt by joining a witchcraft group, and then practice the same basic philosophy
as Christianity.
White magic is supposedly utilized only for good or unselfish purposes, and
black magic, we are told, is used only for selfish or "evil" reasons. Satanism
draws no such dividing line. Magic is magic, be it used to help or hinder. The
Satanist, being the magician, should have the ability to decide what is just,
and then apply the powers of magic to attain his goals.
During white magical ceremonies, the practitioners stand within a pentagram to
protect themselves from the "evil" forces which they call upon for help. To the
Satanist, it seems a bit two-faced to call on these forces for help, while at
the same time protecting yourself from the very powers you have asked for
assistance. The Satanist realizes that only by putting himself in league with
these forces can be fully and unhypocritically utilize the Powers of Darkness to
his best advantage.
In a Satanic magical ceremony, the participants do NOT: join hands and dance
"ring around the rosy" in a circle; burn candles of various colors for various
wishes; call out the names of "Father, Son and Holy Ghost" while supposedly
practicing Black Arts; pick a "Saint" for their personal guide in obtaining help
for their problems; dunk themselves in smelly oils and hope the money comes in;
meditate so they can arrive at a "great spiritual awakening"; recite long
incantations with the name of Jesus thrown in for good measure, between every
few words, etc., etc., etc., ad nauseam!
BECAUSE - This is NOT the way to practice Satanic magic. If you cannot divorce
yourself from hypocritical self-deceit, you will never be successful as a
magician, much less a Satanist.
The Satanic religion has not merely lifted the coin - it has flipped it
completely over. Therefore, why should it support the very principles to which
it is completely opposed by calling itself anything other than a name which is
totally in keeping with the reversed doctrines which make up the Satanic
philosophy? Satanism is not a white light religion; it is a religion of the
flesh, the mundane, the carnal - all of which are ruled by Satan, the
personification of the Left Hand Path.
Inevitably, the next question asked is: "Granted, you can't call it humanism
because humanism is not a religion; but why even have a religion in the first
place if all you do is what comes naturally, anyway? Why not just do it?"
Modern man has come a long way; he has become disenchanted with the nonsensical
dogmas of past religions. We are living in an enlightened age. Psychiatry has
made great strides in enlightening man about his true personality. We are living
in an era of intellectual awareness unlike any the world has ever seen.
This is all very well and good, BUT - there is one flaw in this new state of
awareness. It is one thing to accept something intellectually, but to accept the
same thing emotionally is an entirely different matter. The one need that
psychiatry cannot fill is man's inherent need for emotionalizing through dogma.
Man needs ceremony and ritual, fantasy and enchantment. Psychiatry, despite all
the good it has done, has robbed man of wonder and fantasy which religion, in
the past, has provided.
Satanism, realizing the current needs of man, fills the large grey void between
religion and psychiatry. The Satanic philosophy combines the fundamentals of
psychology and good, honest emotionalizing, or dogma. It provides man with his
much needed fantasy. There is nothing wrong with dogma, providing it is not
based on ideas and actions which go completely against human nature.
The quickest way of traveling between two points is in a straight line. If all
the guilts that have been built up can be turned into advantages, it eliminates
the need for intellectual purging of the psyche in an attempt to cleanse it from
these repressions. Satanism is the only religion known to man that accepts man
as he is, and promotes the rationale of turning a bad thing into a good thing
rather than bending over backwards to eliminate the bad thing.
Therefore, after intellectually evaluating your problems through common sense
and drawing on what psychiatry has taught us, if you still cannot emotionally
release yourself from unwarranted guilt, and put your theories into action, then
you should learn to make your guilt work for you. You should act upon your
natural instincts, and then, if you cannot perform without feeling guilty, revel
in your guilt. This may sound like a contradiction in terms, but if you will
think about it, guilt can often add a fillip to the senses. Adults would do well
to take a lesson from children. Children often take great delight in doing
something they know they are not supposed to.
Yes, times have changed, but man hasn't. The basics of Satanism have always
existed. The only thing that is new is the formal organization of a religion
based on the universal traits of man. For centuries, magnificent structures of
stone, concrete, mortar, and steel have been devoted to man's abstinence. It is
high time that human beings stopped fighting themselves, and devoted their time
to building temples designed for man's indulgences.
Even though times have changed, and always will, man remains basically the same.
For two thousand years man has done penance for something he never should have
had to feel guilty about in the first place. We are tired of denying ourselves
the pleasures of life which we deserve. Today, as always, man needs to enjoy
himself here and now, instead of waiting for his rewards in heaven. So, why not
have a religion based on indulgence? Certainly, it is consistent with the nature
of the beast. We are no longer supplicating weaklings trembling before an
unmerciful "God" who cares not whether we live or die. We are self-respecting,
prideful people - we are Satanists!
HELL, THE DEVIL, AND HOW TO SELL YOUR SOUL
SATAN has certainly been the best friend the church has ever had, as he has kept
it in business all these years. The false doctrine of Hell and the Devil has
allowed the Protestant and Catholic Churches to flourish far too long. Without a
devil to point their fingers at, religionists of the right hand path would have
nothing with which to threaten their followers. "Satan leads you to temptation";
"Satan is the prince of evil"; "Satan is vicious, cruel, brutal," they warn. "If
you give in to the temptations of the devil, you will surely suffer eternal
damnation and roast in Hell."
The semantic meaning of Satan is the "adversary" or "opposition" or the
"accuser". The very word "devil" comes from the Indian devi which means "god".
Satan represents opposition to all religions which serve to frustrate and
condemn man for his natural instincts. He has been given an evil role simply
because he represents the carnal, earthly, and mundane aspects of life.
Satan, the chief devil of the Western World, was originally an angel whose duty
was to report human delinquencies to God. It was not until the Fourteenth
Century that he began to be depicted as an evil deity who was part man and part
animal, with goat-like horns and hooves. Before Christianity gave him the names
of Satan, Lucifer, etc., the carnal side of man's nature was governed by the god
which was then called Dionysus, or Pan, depicted as a satyr or faun, by the
Greeks. Pan was originally the "good guy", and symbolized fertility and
fecundity.
Whenever a nation comes under a new form of government, the heroes of the past
become villains of the present. So it is with religion. The earliest Christians
believed that the Pagan deities were devils, and to employ them was to use
"black magic". Miraculous heavenly events they termed "white magic"; this was
the sole distinction between the two. The old gods did not die, they fell into
Hell and became devils. The bogey, goblin, or bugaboo used to frighten children
is derived from the Slavonic "Bog" which means "god", as does Bhaga in Hindu.
Many pleasures revered before the advent of Christianity were condemned by the
new religion. It required little changeover to transform the horns and cloven
hooves of Pan into a most convincing devil! Pan's attributes could be neatly
changed into charged-with-punishment sins, and so the metamorphosis was
complete.
The association of the goat with the Devil is found in the Christian Bible,
where the holiest day of the year, the Day of Atonement, was celebrated by
casting lots for two goats "without blemish", one to be offered to the Lord, and
one to Azazel. The goat carrying the sins of the people was driven into the
desert and became a "scapegoat". This is the origin of the goat which is still
used in lodge ceremonies today as it was also used in Egypt, where once a year
it was sacrificed to a God.
The devils of mankind are many, and their origins diversified. The performance
of Satanic ritual does not embrace the calling forth of demons; this practice is
followed only by those who are in fear of the very forces they conjure.
Supposedly, demons are malevolent spirits with attributes conductive to the
deterioration of the people or events that they touch upon. The Greek word demon
meant a guardian spirit or source of inspiration, and to be sure, later
theologians invented legion upon legion of these harbingers of inspiration - all
wicked.
An indication of the cowardice of "magicians" of the right-hand path is the
practice of calling upon a particular demon (who would supposedly be a minion of
the devil) to do his bidding. The assumption is that the demon, being only a
flunky of the devil, is easier to control. Occult lore states that only the most
formidably "protected" or insanely foolhardy sorcerer would try to call forth
the Devil himself.
The Satanist does not furtively call upon these "lesser" devils, but brazenly
invokes those who people that infernal army of long-standing outrage - the
Devils themselves!
Theologians have catalogued some of the names of devils in their lists of
demons, as might be expected, but the roster which follows contains the names
and origins of the Gods and Goddesses called upon, which make up a large part of
the occupancy of the Royal Palace of Hell:
THE FOUR CROWN PRINCES OF HELL
SATAN - (Hebrew) adversary, opposite, accuser, Lord of fire, the inferno, the
south LUCIFER - (Roman) bringer of light, enlightenment, the air, the morning
star, the east BELIAL - (Hebrew) without a master, baseness of the earth,
independence, the north LEVIATHAN - (Hebrew) the serpent out of the deeps, the
sea, the west
THE INFERNAL NAMES
Abaddon - (Hebrew) the destroyer Adramelech - Samarian devil Ahpuch - Mayan
devil Ahriman - Mazdean devil Amon - Egyptian ram-headed god of life and
reproduction Apollyon - Greek synonym for Satan, the arch fiend Asmodeus -
Hebrew devil of sensuality and luxury, originally "creature of judgement"
Astaroth - Phoenician goddess of lasciviousness, equivalent of Babylonian Ishtar
Azazel - (Hebrew) taught man to make weapons of war, introduced cosmetics
Baalberith - Canaanite Lord of the covenant who was later made a devil Balaam -
Hebrew Devil of avarice and greed Baphomet - worshipped by the Templars as
symbolic of Satan Bast - Egyptian goddess of pleasure represented by the cat
Beelzebub - (Hebrew) Lord of the Flies, taken from symbolism of the scarab
Behemoth - Hebrew personification of Satan in the form of an elephant Beherit -
Syriac name for Satan Bilé - Celtic god of Hell Chemosh - national god of
Moabites, later a devil Cimeries - rides a black horse and rules Africa Coyote -
American Indian devil Dagon - Philistine avenging devil of the sea Damballa -
Voodoo serpent god Demogorgon - Greek name of the devil, it is said should not
be known to mortals Diabolus - (Greek) "flowing downwards" Dracula - Romanian
name for devil Emma-O - Japanese ruler of Hell Euronymous - Greek prince of
death Fenriz - son of Loki, depicted as a wolf Gorgo - dim. of Demogorgon, Greek
name of the devil Haborym - Hebrew synonym for Satan Hecate - Greek goddess of
the underworld and witchcraft Ishtar - Babylonian goddess of fertility Kali -
(Hindu) daughter of Shiva, high priestess of the Thuggees Lilith - Hebrew female
devil, Adam's first wife who taught him the ropes Loki - Teutonic devil Mammon -
Aramaic god of wealth and profit Mania - Etruscan goddess of Hell Mantus -
Etruscan god of Hell Marduk - god of the city of Babylon Mastema - Hebrew
synonym for Satan Melek Taus - Yezidi devil Mephistopheles - (Greek) he who
shuns the light, q. v. Faust Metztli - Aztec goddess of the night Mictian -
Aztec god of death Midgard - son of Loki, depicted as a serpent Milcom -
Ammonite devil Moloch - Phoenician and Canaanite devil Mormo - (Greek) King of
the Ghouls, consort of Hecate Naamah - Hebrew female devil of seduction Nergal -
Babylonian god of Hades Nihasa - American Indian devil Nija - Polish god of the
underworld O-Yama - Japanese name for Satan Pan - Greek god of lust, later
relegated to devildom Pluto - Greek god of the underworld Proserpine - Greek
queen of the underworld Pwcca - Welsh name for Satan Rimmon - Syrian devil
worshipped at Damascus Sabazios - Phrygian origin, identified with Dionysos,
snake worship Saitan - Enochian equivalent of Satan Sammael - (Hebrew) "venom of
God" Samnu - Central Asian devil Sedit - American Indian devil Sekhmet -
Egyptian goddess of vengeance Set - Egyptian devil Shaitan - Arabic name for
Satan Shiva - (Hindu) the destroyer Supay - Inca god of the underworld T'an-mo -
Chinese counterpart to the devil, covetousness, desire Tchort - Russian name for
Satan, "black god" Tezcatlipoca - Aztec god of Hell Thamuz - Sumerian god who
later was relegated to devildom Thoth - Egyptian god of magic Tunrida -
Scandanavian female devil Typhon - Greek personification of Satan Yaotzin -
Aztec god of Hell Yen-lo-Wang - Chinese ruler of Hell The devils of past
religions have always, at least in part, had animal characteristics, evidence of
man's constant need to deny that he too is an animal, for to do so would serve a
mighty blow to his impoverished ego.
The pig was despised by the Jews and the Egyptians. It symbolized the gods Frey,
Osiris, Adonis, Persephone, Attis, and Demeter, and was sacrificed to Osiris and
the Moon. But, in time, it became degraded into a devil. The Phoenicians
worhipped a fly god, Baal, from which comes the devil, Beelzebub. Both Baal and
Beelzebub are identical to the dung beetle or scarabaeus of the Egyptians which
appeared to resurrect itself, much as the mythical bird, the phoenix, rose from
its own ashes. The ancient Jews believed, through their contact with the
Persians, that the two great forces in the world were Ahura-Mazda, the god of
fire, light, life, and goodness; and Ahriman, the serpent, the god of darkness,
destruction, death, and evil. These, and countless other examples, not only
depict man's devils as animals, but also show his need to sacrifice the original
animal gods and demote them to his devils.
At the time of the Reformation, in the Sixteenth Century, the alchemist, Dr.
Johann Faustus, discovered a method of summoning a demon - Mephistopheles - from
Hell and making a pact with him. He signed a contract in blood to turn his soul
over to Mephistopheles in return for the feeling of youth, and at once became
young. When the time came for Faustus to die, he retired to his room and was
blown to bits as though his laboratory had exploded. This story is a protest of
the times (the Sixteenth Century) against science, chemistry, and magic.
To the Satanist, it is unnecessary to sell your soul to the Devil or make a pact
with Satan. This threat was devised by Christianity to terrorize people so they
would not stray from the fold. With scolding fingers and trembling voices, they
taught their followers that if they gave in to the temptations of Satan, and
lived their lives according to their natural predilictions, they would have to
pay for their sinful pleasures by giving their souls to Satan and suffering in
Hell for all eternity. People were led to believe that a pure soul was a
passport to everlasting life.
Pious prophets have taught man to fear Satan. But what of terms like "God
fearing"? If God is so merciful, why do people have to fear him? Are we to
believe there is nowhere we can turn to escape fear? If you have to fear God,
why not be "Satan fearing" and at least have the fun that being God fearing
denies you? Without such a wholesale fear religionists would have had nothing
with which to wield power over their followers.
The Teutonic Goddess of the Dead and daughter of Loki was named Hel, a Pagan god
of torture and punishment. Another "L" was added when the books of the Old
Testament were formulated. The prophets who wrote the Bible did not know the
word "Hell"; they used the Hebrew Sheol and the Greek Hades, which meant the
grave; also the Greek Tartaros, which was the abode of fallen angels, the
underworld (inside the earth), and Gehenna, which was a valley near Jerusalem
where Moloch reigned and garbage was dumped and burned. It is from this that the
Christian Church has evolved the idea of "fire and brimstone" in Hell.
The Protestant Hell and the Catholic Hell are places of eternal punishment;
however, the Catholics also believe there is a "Purgatory" where all souls go
for a time, and a "Limbo" where unbaptized souls go. The Buddhist Hell is
divided into eight sections, the first seven of which can be expiated. The
ecclesiastical description of Hell is that of a horrible place of fire and
torment; in Dante's Inferno, and in northern climes, it was thought to be an icy
cold region, a giant refrigerator.
(Even with all their threats of eternal damnation and soul roasting, Christian
missionaries have run across some who were not so quick to swallow their drivel.
Pleasure and pain, like beauty, are in the eye of the beholder. So, when
missionaries ventured into Alaska and warned the Eskimos of the horrors of Hell
and the blazing lake of fire awaiting transgressors, they eagerly asked: "How do
we get there?"!)
Most Satanists do not accept Satan as an anthropomorphic being with cloven
hooves, a barbed tail, and horns. He merely represents a force in nature - the
powers of darkness which have been named just that because no religion has taken
these forces out of the darkness. Nor has science been able to apply technical
terminology to this force. It is an untapped reservoir that few can make use of
because they lack the ability use a tool without having to first break down and
label all the parts which make it run. It is this incessant need to analyze
which prohibits most people from taking advantage of this many faceted key to
the unknown - which the Satanist chooses to call "Satan".
Satan, as a god, demi-god, personal saviour, or whatever you wish to call him,
was invented by the formulators of every religion on the face of the earth for
only one purpose - to preside over man's so-called wicked activities and
situations here on earth. Consequently, anything resulting in physical or mental
gratification was defined as "evil" - thus assuring a lifetime of unwarrented
guilt for everyone!
So, if "evil" they have named us, evil we are - and so what! The Satanic Age is
upon us! Why not take advantage of it and LIVE!*
LOVE AND HATE
SATANISM represents kindness to those who deserve it instead of love wasted on ingrates!
You cannot love everyone; it is ridiculous to think you can. If you love
everyone and everything you lose your natural powers of selection and wind up
being a pretty poor judge of character and quality. If anything is used too
freely it loses its true meaning. Therefore, the Satanist believes you should
love strongly and completely those who deserve your love, but never turn the
other cheek to your enemy!
Love is one of the most intense emotions felt by man; another is hate. Forcing
yourself to feel indiscriminate love is very unnatural. If you try to love
everyone you only lessen your feelings for those who deserve your love.
Repressed hatred can lead to many physical and emotional ailments. By learning
to release your hatred towards those who deserve it, you cleanse yourself of
these malignant emotions and need not take your pent-up hatred out on your loved
ones.
There has never been a great "love" movement in the history of the world that
hasn't wound up killing countless numbers of people, we must assume, to prove
how much they loved them! Every hypocrite who ever walked the earth has had
pockets buldging with love!
Every pharisaical religionist claims to love his enemies, even though when
wronged he consoles himself by thinking "God will punish them". Instead of
admitting to themselves that they are capable of hating their foes and treating
them in the manner they deserve, they say: "There, but for the grace of God, go
I," and "pray" for them. Why should we humiliate and lower ourselves by drawing
such inaccurate comparisons?
Satanism has been thought of as being synonymous with cruelty and brutality.
This is so only because people are afraid to face the truth - and the truth is
that human beings are not all benign or all loving. Just because the Satanist
admits he is capable of both love and hate, he is considered hateful. On the
contrary, because he is able to give vent to his hatred through ritualized
expression, he is far more capable of love - the deepest kind of love. By
honestly recognizing and admitting to both the hate and the love he feels, there
is no confusing one emotion with the other. Without being able to experience one
of these emotions, you cannot fully experience the other.
SATANIC SEX
MUCH controversy has arisen over the Satanic views on "free
love". It is often assumed that sexual activity is the most important factor of
the Satanic religion, and that willingness to participate in sex-orgies is a
prerequisite for becoming a Satanist. Nothing could be farther from the truth!
In fact, opportunists who have no deeper interest in Satanism than merely the
sexual aspects are emphatically discouraged.
Satanism does advocate sexual freedom, but only in the true sense of the word.
Free love, in the Satanic concept, means exactly that - freedom to either be
faithful to one person or to indulge your sexual desires with as many others as
you feel is necessary to satisfy your particular needs.
Satanism does not encourage orgiastic activity or extramarital affairs for those
to whom they do not come naturally. For many, it would be very unnatural and
detrimental to be unfaithful to their chosen mates. To others, it would be
frustrating to be bound sexually to just one person. Each person must decide for
himself what form of sexual activity best suits his individual needs.
Self-deceitfully forcing yourself to be adulterous or to have sex partners when
not married just for the sake of proving others (or worse yet, to yourself) that
you are emancipated from sexual guilt is just as wrong, by Satanic standards, as
leaving any sexual need unfulfilled because of ingrained feelings of guilt.
Many of those who are constantly preoccupied with demonstrating their
emancipation from sexual guilt are, in reality, held in even greater sexual
bondage than those who simply accept sexual activity as a natural part of life
and don't make a big to-do over their sexual freedom. For example, it is an
established fact that the nymphomaniac (every man's dream girl and heroine of
all lurid novels) is not sexually free, but is actually frigid and roves from
man to man because she is too inhibited to ever find complete sexual release.
Another misconception is the idea that ability to engage in group sexual
activity is the indicative of sexual freedom. All contemporary free-sex groups
have one thing in common - discouragement of fetishistic or deviant activity.
Actually, the most forced examples of non-fetishistic sexual activity thinly
disguised as "freedom" have a common format. Each of the participants in an orgy
removes all clothing, following the example set forth by one, and mechanically
fornicate - also following the leader's example. None of the performers consider
that their "emancipated" form of sex might be regarded as regimented and
infantile by non-members who fail to equate uniformity with freedom.
The Satanist realizes that if he is to be a sexual connoiseur (and truly free
from all sexual guilt) he cannot be stifled by the so-called sexual
revolutionists any more than he can by the prudery of his guilt-ridden society.
These free-sex clubs miss the whole point of sexual freedom. Unless sexual
activity can be expressed on an individual basis (which includes personal
fetishes), there is absolutely no purpose in belonging to a sexual freedom
organization.
Satanism condones any type of sexual activity which properly satisfies your
individual desires - be it heterosexual, homosexual, bisexual, or even asexual,
if you choose. Satanism also sanctions any fetish or deviation which will
enhance your sex-life, so long as it involves no one who does not wish to be
involved.
The prevalence of deviant and/or fetishistic behavior in our society would
stagger the imagination of the sexually naïve. There are more sexual variants
than the unenlightened individual can perceive: transvestism, sadism, masochism,
urolagnia, exhibitionism - to name only a few of the more predominant. Everyone
has some form of fetish, but because they are unaware of the preponderance of
fetishistic activity in our society, they feel they are depraved if they submit
to their "unnatural" yearnings.*
Even the asexual has a deviation - his asexuality. It is far more abnormal to
have a lack of sexual desire (unless illness or old-age, or another valid reason
has caused the wane) than it is to be sexually promiscuous. However, if a
Satanist chooses sexual sublimination above overt sexual expression, that is
entirely his own affair. In many cases of sexual sublimination (or asexuality),
any attempt to emancipate himself sexually would prove devastating to the
asexual.
Asexuals are invariably sexually sublimated by their jobs or hobbies. All the
energy and driving interest which would normally be devoted to sexual activity
is channelled into other pastimes or into their chosen occupations. If a person
favors other interests over sexual activity, it is his right, and no one is
justified in condemning him for it. However, the person should at least
recognize the fact that this is a sexual sublimation.
Because of lack of opportunity for expression, many secret sexual desires never
progress beyond the fantasy stage. Lack of release often leads to compulsion
and, therefore, a great number of people devise undetectable methods of giving
vent to their urges. Just because most fetishistic activity is not outwardly
apparent, the sexually unsophisticated should not delude himself into thinking
it does not exist. To cite examples of the ingenious techniques used: The male
transvestite will indulge in his fetish by wearing feminine undergarments while
going about his daily activities; or the masochistic woman might wear a rubber
girdle several sizes too small, so she may derive sexual pleasure from her
fetishistic discomfort throughout the day, with no one the wiser. These
illustrations are far tamer and more prevalent examples than others which could
have been given.
Satanism encourages any form of sexual expression you may desire, so long as it
hurts no one else. This statement must be qualified, to avoid misinterpretation.
By not hurting another, this does not include the unintentional hurt felt by
those who might not agree with your views on sex, because of their anxieties
regarding sexual morality. Naturally, you should avoid offending others who mean
a great deal to you, such as prudish friends and relatives. However, if you
earnestly endeavor to escape hurting them, and despite your efforts they
accidentally find out, you cannot be held responsible, and therefore should feel
no guilt as a result of either your sexual convictions, or their being hurt
because of those convictions. If you are in constant fear of offending the
prudish by your attitude towards sex, then there is no sense in trying to
emancipate yourself from sexual guilt. However, no purpose is served by
flaunting your permissiveness.
The other exception to the rule regards dealings with masochists. A masochist
derives pleasure from being hurt; so denying the masochist his
pleasure-through-pain hurts him just as much as actual physical pain hurts the
non-masochist. The story of the truly cruel sadist illustrates this point: The
masochist says to the sadist, "beat me." To which the merciless sadist replies,
"NO!" If a person wants to be hurt and enjoys suffering, then there is no reason
not to indulge him in his wont.
The term "sadist" in popular usage describes one who obtains pleasure from
indiscriminate brutality. Actually, though, a true sadist is selective. He
carefully chooses from the vast reserve of appropriate victims, and takes great
delight in giving those who thrive on misery the fulfillment of their desires.
The "well-adjusted" sadist is epicurean in selecting those on whom his energies
will be well-spent! If a person is healthy enough to admit he is a masochist and
enjoys being enslaved and whipped, the real sadist is glad to oblige!
Aside from the foregoing exceptions, the Satanist would not intentionally hurt
others by violating their sexual rights. If you attempt to impose your sexual
desires upon others who do not welcome your advances, you are infringing upon
their sexual freedom. Therefore, Satanism does not advocate rape, child
molesting, sexual defilement of animals, or any other form of sexual activity
which entails the participation of those who are unwilling or whose innocence or
naïveté would allow them to be intimidated or misguided into doing something
against their wishes.
If all parties involved are mature adults who willingly take full responsibility
for their actions and voluntarily engage in a given form of sexual expression -
even if it is generally considered taboo - then there is no reason for them to
repress their sexual inclinations.
If you are aware of all the implications, advantages, and disadvantages, and are
certain your actions will hurt no one who does not wish or deserve to be hurt,
you have no cause to suppress your sexual preferences.
Just as no two people are exactly the same in their choice of diet or have the
same capacity for the consumption of food, sexual tastes and appetites vary from
person to person. No person or society has the right to set limitations on the
sexual standards or the frequency of sexual activity of another. Proper sexual
conduct can only be judged within the context of each individual situation.
Therefore, what one person considers sexually correct and moral may be
frustrating to another. The reverse is also true; one person may have great
sexual prowess, but it is unjust for him to belittle another whose sexual
capacity may not equal his own, and inconsiderate for him to impose himself upon
the other person, i.e., the man who has a voracious sexual appetite, but whose
wife's sexual needs do not match his own. It is unfair for him to expect her to
enthusiastically respond to his overtures; but she must display the same degree
of thoughtfulness. In the instances when she does not feel great passion, she
should either passively, but pleasantly, accept him sexually, or raise no
complaint if he chooses to find his needed release elsewhere - including
auto-erotic practices.
The ideal relationship is one in which the people are deeply in love with one
another and are sexually compatible. However, perfect relationships are
relatively uncommon. It is important to point out here that spiritual love and
sexual love can, but do not necessarily, go hand in hand. If there is a certain
amount of sexual compatibility, often it is limited; and some, but not all, of
the sexual desires will be fulfilled.
There is no greater sexual pleasure than that derived from association with
someone you deeply love, if you are sexually well-suited. If you are not suited
to one another sexually, though, it must be stressed that lack of sexual
compatibility does not indicate lack of spiritual love. One can, and often does,
exist without the other. As a matter of fact, often one member of a couple will
resort to outside sexual activity because he deeply loves his mate, and wishes
to avoid hurting or imposing upon his loved one. Deep spiritual love is enriched
by sexual love, and it is certainly a necessary ingredient for any satisfactory
relationship; but because of differing sexual predilictions, outside sexual
activity or masturbation sometimes provides a needed supplement.
Masturbation, considered a sexual taboo by many people, creates a guilt problem
not easily dealt with. Much emphasis must be placed on this subject, as it
constitutes an extremely important ingredient of many a successful magical
working.
Ever since the Judaeo-Christian Bible described the sin of Onan (Gen. 38:7-10),
man has considered the seriousness and consequences of the "solitary vice". Even
though modern sexologists have explained the sin of Onan as simply coitus
interruptus, the damage has been done through centuries of theological
misinterpretation.
Aside from actual sex crimes, masturbation is one of the most frowned upon
sexual acts. During the last century, innumerable texts were written describing
the horrific consequences of masturbation. Practically all physical or mental
illnesses were attributed to the evils of masturbation. Pallor of the
complexion, shortness of breath, furtive expression, sunken chest, nervousness,
pimples and loss of appetite are only a few of the many characteristics
supposedly resulting from masturbation; total physical and mental collapse was
assured if one did not heed the warnings in those handbooks for young men.
The lurid descriptions in such texts would be almost humorous, were it not for
the unhappy fact that even though contemporary sexologists, doctors, writers,
etc. have done much to remove the stigma of masturbation, the deep-seated guilts
induced by the nonsense in those sexual primers have been only partially erased.
A large percentage of people, especially those over forty, cannot emotionally
accept the fact that masturbation is natural and healthy, even if they now
accept it intellectually; and they, in turn, relate their repugnance, often
subconsciously, to their children.
It was thought that one would go insane if, despite numerous admonitions, his
auto-erotic practices persisted. This preposterous myth grew from reports of
wide-spread masturbation by the inmates of mental institutions. It was assumed
that since almost all incurably insane people masturbated, it was their
masturbation that had driven them mad. No one ever stopped to consider the lack
of sexual partners of the opposite sex and the freedom from inhibition, which is
a characteristic of extreme insanity, were the real reasons for the masturbatory
practices of the insane.
Many people would rather have their mates seek outside sexual activity than
perform auto-erotic acts because of their own guilt feelings, the mate's
repugnance towards having them engage in masturbation, or the fear of their
mate's repugnance - although in a surprising number of cases, a vicarious thrill
is obtained from the knowledge that the mate is having sexual experiences with
outsiders - although this is seldom admitted.
If stimulation is provided by envisioning one's mate sexually engaged with
others, this should be brought out into the open where both parties may gain
from such activities. However, if the prohibition of masturbation is only due to
guilt feelings on the part of one or both parties, they should make every
attempt to erase those guilts - or utilize them. Many relationships might be
saved from destruction if the people involved did not feel guilt about
performing the natural act of masturbation.
Masturbation is regarded as evil because it produces pleasure derived from
intentionally fondling a "forbidden" area of the body by one's own hand. The
guilt feelings accompanying most sexual acts can be assuaged by the
religiously-acceptable contention that your sensual delights are necessary to
produce off-spring - even though you cautiously watch the calendar for the
"safe" days. You cannot, however, placate yourself with this rationale while
engaging in masturbatory practices.
No matter what you've been told about the "immaculate conception" - even if
blind faith allows you to swallow this absurdity - you know full well if you are
to produce a child, there must be sexual contact with a person of the opposite
sex! If you feel guilty for committing the "original sin," you certainly will
feel even deeper guilt for performing a sex act only for self-gratification,
with no intention of creating children.
The Satanist fully realizes why religionists declare masturbation to be sinful.
Like all other natural acts people will do it, no matter how severely
reprimanded. Causing guilt is an important facet of their malicious scheme to
obligate people to atone for "sins" by paying the mortgages on temples of
abstinence!
Even if a person is no longer struggling under the burden of religiously-induced
guilt (or thinks he isn't), modern man still feels shame if he yields to his
masturbatory desires. A man may feel robbed of his masculinity if he satisfies
himself auto-erotically rather than engaging in the competitive game of woman
chasing. A woman may satisfy herself sexually but yearns for the
ego-gratification that comes from the sport of seduction. Neither the quasi
Casanova nor bogus vamp feels adequate when "reduced" to masturbation for sexual
gratification; both would prefer even an inadequate partner. Satanically
speaking, though, it is far better to engage in a perfect fantasy than to
cooperate in an unrewarding experience with another person. With masturbation,
you are in complete control of the situation.
To illustrate the undebatable fact that masturbation is an entirely normal and
healthy practice: it is performed by all members of the animal kingdom. Human
children will also follow their instictive masturbatory desires, unless they
have been scolded for it by their indignant parents, who were undoubtably
berated for it by their parents, and so on down the retrocedent line.
It is unfortunate, but true, that the sexual guilts of parents will immutably be
passed on to their children. In order to save our children from the ill-fated
sexual destiny of our parents, grandparents, and possibly ourselves, the
perverted moral code of the past must be exposed for what it is: a pragmatically
organized set of rules which, if rigidly obeyed, would destroy us! Unless we
emancipate ourselves from the ridiculous sexual standards of our present
society, including the so-called sexual revolution, the neuroses caused by those
stifling regulations will persist. Adherence to the sensible and humanistic new
morality of Satanism can - and will - evolve society in which our children can
grow up healthy and without the devastating moral encumbrances of our existing
sick society.
NOT ALL VAMPIRES SUCK BLOOD!
SATANISM represents responsibility to the responsible, instead of concern for psychic vampires.
Many people who walk the earth practice the fine art of making others feel
responsible and even indebted to them, without cause. Satanism observes these
leeches in their true light. Psychic vampires are individuals who drain others
of their vital energy. This type of person can be found in all avenues of
society. They fill no useful purpose in our lives, and are neither love objects
nor true friends. Yet we feel responsible to the psychic vampire without knowing
why.
If you think you may be the victim of such a person, there are a few simple
rules which will help you form a decision. Is there a person you often call or
visit, even though you really don't want to, because you know you will feel
guilty if you don't? Or, do you find yourself constantly doing favors for one
who doesn't come forward and ask, but hints? Often the psychic vampire will use
reverse psychology, saying: "Oh, I couldn't ask you to do that" - and you, in
turn, insist upon doing it. The psychic vampire never demands anything of you.
That would be far too presumptuous. They simply let their wishes be known in
subtle ways which will prevent them from being considered pests. They "wouldn't
think of imposing" and are always content and willingly accept their lot,
without the slightest complaint - outwardly!
Their sins are not of commission, but of omission. It's what they don't say, not
what they do say, that makes you feel you must account to them. They are much
too crafty to make overt demands upon you, because they know you would resent
it, and would have a tangible and legitimate reason for denying them.
A large percentage of these people have special "attributes" which make their
dependence upon you more feasible and much more effective. Many psychic vampires
are invalids (or pretend to be) or are "mentally or emotionally disturbed."
Others might feign ignorance or incompetence so you will, out of pity - or more
often, exasperation - do things for them.
The traditional way to banish a demon or elemental is to recognize it for what
it is, and exorcise it. Recognition of these modern-day demons and their methods
is the only antidote for their devastating hold over you.
Most people accept these passively vicious individuals at face value only
because their insidious maneuvers have never been pointed out to them. They
merely accept these "poor souls" as being less fortunate than themselves, and
feel they must help them however they can. It is this misdirected sense of
responsibility (or unfounded sense of guilt) which nourishes well the
"altruisms" upon which these parasites feast!
The psychic vampire is allowed to exist because he cleverly chooses
conscientious, responsible people for his victims - people with great dedication
to their "moral obligations."
In some cases we are vampirized by groups of people, as well as individuals.
Every fund raising organization, be it a charitable foundation, community
council, religious or fraternal association, etc., carefully selects a person
who is adept at making others feel guilty for its chairman or coordinator. It is
the job of this chairman to intimidate us into opening first our hearts, and
then our wallets, to the recipient of their "good will" - never mentioning that,
in many cases, their time is not unselfishly donated, but that they are drawing
a fat salary for their "noble deeds." They are masters at playing upon the
sympathy and consideration of responsible people. How often we see little
children who have been sent forth by these self-righteous Fagins to painlessly
extract donations from the kindly. Who can resist the innocent charm of a child?
There are, of course, people who are not happy unless they are giving, but many
of us do not fit into this category. Unfortunately, we are often put upon to do
things we do not genuinely feel should be required of us. A conscientious person
finds it very difficult to decide between voluntary and imposed charity. He
wants to do what is right and just, and finds it perplexing trying to decide
exactly who he should help and what degree of aid should rightfully be expected
of him.
Each person must decide for himself what his obligations are to his respective
friends, family, and community. Before donating his time and money to those
outside his immediate family and close circle of friends, he must decide what he
can afford, without depriving those closest to him. When taking these things
into consideration he must be certain to include himself among those who mean
most to him. He must carefully evaluate the validity of the request and the
personality or motives of the person asking it of him.
It is extremely difficult for a person to learn to say "no" when all his life he
has said "yes." But unless he wants to be constantly taken advantage of, he must
learn to say "no" when circumstances justify doing so. If you allow them,
psychic vampires will gradually infiltrate your everyday life until you have no
privacy left - and your constant feeling of concern for them will deplete you of
all ambition.
A psychic vampire will always select a person who is relatively content and
satisfied with his life - a person who is happily married, pleased with his job,
and generally well-adjusted to the world around him - to feed upon. The very
fact that the psychic vampire chooses to victimize a happy person shows that he
is lacking all the things his victim has; he will do everything he can to stir
up trouble and disharmony between his victim and those people he holds dear.
Therefore, be wary of anyone who seems to have no real friends and no appearant
interest in life (except you). He will usually tell you he is very selective in
his choice of friends, or doesn't make friends easily because of the high
standards he sets for his companions. (To acquire and keep friends, one must be
willing to give of himself - something of which the psychic vampire is
incapable.) But he will hasten to add that you fulfill every requirement and are
truly an outstanding exception among men - you are one of the very few worthy of
his friendship.
Lest you confuse desperate love (which is a very selfish thing) with psychic
vampirism, the vast difference between the two must be clarified. The only way
to determine if you are being vampirized is to weigh what you give the person
compared to what they give you in return.
You may, at times, become annoyed with the obligations put upon you by a loved
one, a close friend, or even an employer. But before you label them psychic
vampires, you must ask yourself, "What am I getting in return?" If your spouse
or lover insists that you call them frequently, but you also require them to
account to you for their time spent away from you, you must realize this is a
give and take situation. Or, if a friend is in the habit of calling upon you for
help at inopportune moments, but you similarly depend upon them to give your
immediate needs priority, you must regard it as a fair exchange. If your
employer asks you to do a little more than is normally expected of you in your
particular position, but will overlook occasional tardiness or will give you
time off when you need it, you certainly have no cause for complaint and need
not feel he is taking advantage of you.
You are, however, being vampirized if you are incessantly called upon or
expected to do favors for someone who, when you need a favor, always happens to
have other "pressing obligations."
Many psychic vampires will give you material things for the express purpose of
making you feel you owe them something in return, thereby binding you to them.
The difference between your giving, and theirs, is that your return payment must
come in a non-material form. They want you to feel obligated to them, and would
be very disappointed and even resentful if you attempted to repay them with
materal objects. In essence, you have "sold your soul" to them, and they'll
constantly remind you of your duty to them, by not reminding you.
Being purely Satanic, the only way to deal with a psychic vampire is to "play
dumb" and act as though they are genuinely altruistic and really expect nothing
in return. Teach them a lesson by graciously taking what they give you, thanking
them loudly enough for all to hear, and walking away! In this way you come out
the victor. What can they say? And when you are inevitably expected to repay
their "generosity," (this is the hard part!) you say "NO" - but again,
graciously! When they feel you falling from their clutches two things will
happen. First, they will act "crushed," hoping your old feeling of duty and
sympathy will return, and when (and if) it doesn't, they will show their true
colors and will become angry and vindictive.
Once you have moved them to this point, YOU can play the role of the injured
party. After all, you've done nothing wrong - you just happened to have had
"pressing obligations" when they needed you, and since nothing was expected in
return for their gifts, there should be no hard feelings.
Generally, the psychic vampire will realize his methods have been discovered and
will not press the issue. He will not continue to waste his time with you, but
will move on to his next unsuspecting victim.
There are times, however, when the psychic vampire will not release his hold so
easily, and will do everything possible to torment you. They have plenty of time
for this because, when once rejected, they wil neglect all else (what little
else they have, that is) to devote their every waking moment to planning the
revenge to which they feel they are entitled. For this reason, it is best to
avoid a relationship with this kind of person in the first place. Their
"adulation" and dependence upon you may, at first, be very flattering, and their
material gifts very attractive, but you will eventually find yourself paying for
them many times over.
Don't waste your time with people who will ultimately destroy you, but
concentrate instead on those who will appreciate your responsibility to them,
and, likewise, feel responsible to you.
And if you are a psychic vampire - take heed! Beware of the Satanist - he is
ready and willing to gleefully drive the proverbial stake through your heart!
INDULGENCE . . . NOT COMPULSION
THE HIGHEST PLATEAU OF HUMAN DEVELOPMENT IS THE AWARENESS OF THE FLESH!
SATANISM encourages its followers to indulge in their natural desires. Only by
doing so can you be a completely satisfied person with no frustrations which can
be harmful to yourself and others around you. Therefore, the most simplified
description of the Satanic belief is:
INDULGENCE INSTEAD OF ABSTINENCE
People often mistake compulsion for indulgence,
but there is a world of difference between the two. A compulsion is never
created by indulging, but by not being able to indulge. By making something
taboo, it only serves to intensify the desire. Everyone likes to do the things
they have been told not to. "Forbidden fruits are sweetest."
Webster's Encyclopedic Dictionary defines indulgence thusly: "To give oneself up
to; not to restrain or oppose; to give free course to; to gratify by compliance;
to yeild to." The dictionary definition of compulsion is: "The act of compelling
or driving by a force, physical or moral; constraint of the will; (compulsory,
obligatory)." In other words, indulgence implies choice, whereas compulsion
indicates the lack of choice.
When a person has no proper release for his desires they rapidly build up and
become compulsions. If everyone had a particular time and place for the purpose
of periodically indulging in their personal desires, without fear of
embarrassment or reproach, they would be sufficiently released to lead
unfrustrated lives in the everyday world. They would be free to plunge headlong
into whatever undertaking they might choose instead of going about their duties
half-heartedly, their creative urges frustrated by denying their natural
desires. This would apply in the majority of cases, but there will always be
those who work better under pressure.
Generally, those who need to endure a certain amount of hardship to produce to
their full capabilities are in basically artistic vocations. (More will be said
later about fulfillment through self-denial.) This does not mean to imply that
all artists fit into this category. On the contrary, many artists are unable to
produce unless their basic animal needs have been satisfied.
For the most part, it is not the artist or individualist, but the average
middle-class working man or woman who is lacking the proper release for their
desires. It is ironic that the responsible, respectable person - the one who
pays society's bills - should be the one given the least in return. It is he who
must be ever conscious of his "moral obligations", and who is condemned for
normally indulging in his natural desires.
The Satanic religion considers this a gross injustice. He who upholds his
responsibilities should be most entitled to the pleasures of his choice, without
censure from the society he serves.
Finally a religion (Satanism) has been formed which commends and rewards those
who support the society in which they live, instead of denouncing them for their
human needs.
From every set of principles (be it religious, political, or philosophical),
some good can be extracted. Amidst the madness of the Hitlerian concept, one
point stands out as a shining example of this - "strength through joy!". Hitler
was no fool when he offered the German people happiness, on a personal level, to
insure their loyalty to him, and peak efficiency from them.
It has been clearly established that the majority of all illnesses are of a
psychosomatic nature, and that psychosomatic illnesses are a direct result of
frustration. It has been said that "the good die young". The good, by Christian
standards, do die young. It is the frustration of our natural instincts which
leads to the deterioration of our minds and bodies.
It has become very fashionable to concentrate on the betterment of the mind and
spirit, and to consider giving pleasure to one's body (the very shell without
which the mind and spirit could not exist) to be coarse, crude, unrefined. AS OF
LATE, MOST PEOPLE WHO DEEM THEMSELVES EMANCIPATED HAVE LEFT NORMALCY ONLY TO "TRANSCEND" INTO IDIOCY! By way of bending their behinds around to meet their navels, subsisting on wild and exotic diets like brown rice and tea, they feel they will arive at a great state of spiritual development.
"Hogwash!" says the Satanist. He would rather eat a good hearty meal, exercise
his imagination, and transcend by means of physical and emotional fulfillment.
It seems, to the Satanist, that after being harnessed with unreasonable
religious demands for so many centuries, one would welcome the chance to be
human for once!
If anyone thinks that by denying his natural desires he can avoid mediocrity, he
should examine the Eastern mystical beliefs which have been in great
intellectual favor in recent years. Christianity is "old-hat", so those who wish
to escape its fetters have turned to so-called enlightened religions, such as
Buddhism. Although Christianity is certainly deserving of the criticism it has
received, perhaps it has been taking more than its share of the blame. The
followers of the mystical beliefs are every bit as guilty of the little
humanisms as the "misguided" Christians. Both religions are based on trite
philosophies, but the mystical religionists profess to be enlightened and
emancipated from the guilt-ridden dogma which is typified by Christianity.
However, the Eastern mystic is even more preoccupied than the Christian with
avoiding animalistic actions that remind him he is not a "saint", but merely a
man - only another form of animal, sometimes better, more often worse, than
those who walk on all fours; and who, becuase of his "divine spiritual and
intellectual development", has become the most vicious animal of all!
The Satanist asks, "What is wrong with being human, and having human limitations
as well as assets?" By denying his desires the mystic has come no closer to
overcoming compulsion than his kindred soul, the Christian. The Eastern mystical
beliefs have taught people to contemplate their navels, stand on their heads,
stare at blank walls, avoid the use of labels in life, and discipline themselves
against any desire for materialistic pleasure. Nevertheless, I am sure you have
seen just as many so-called desciplined yogis with the inablility to control a
smoking habit as anyone else; or just as many supposedly emancipated Buddhists
become just as excited as a "less aware" person when they are confronted with a
member of the opposite - or in some cases, the same - sex. Yet when asked to
explain the reason for their hypocrisy, these people retreat into the
ambiguousness which characterizes their faith - no one can pin them down if
there are no straight answers that can be given!
The simple fact of the matter is that the very thing which has led this type of
person to a faith which preaches abstinence, is indulgence. Their compulsive
masochism is the reason for choosing a religion which not only advocates
self-denial, but praises them for it; and gives them a sacrosanct avenue of
expression for their masochistic needs. The more abuse they can stand, the
holier they become.
Masochism, to most people, represents a rejection of indulgence. Satanism points
out many meanings behind the meanings, and considers masochism to be an
indulgence if any attempt to sway or change the person from his masochistic
traits is met with resentment and/or failure. The Satanist does not condemn
these people for giving vent to their masochistic desires, but he does feel the
utmost contempt towards those who cannot be honest enough (at least with
themselves) to face and accept their masochism as a natural part of their
personality make-up.
Having to use religion as an excuse for their masochism is bad enough, but these
people actually have the effrontery to feel superior to those who are not
bound-up in self-deceitful expression of their fetishes! These people would be
the first to condemn a man who found his weekly release with a person who would
beat him soundly, thereby releasing himself from the very thing which could, if
unreleased, make him - as they are - a compulsive church-goer or religious
fanatic. By finding adequate release for his masochistic desires, he no longer
needs to debase and deny himself in his every waking moment, as do these
compulsive masochists.
Satanists are encouraged to indulge in the seven deadly sins, as they need hurt
no one; they were only invented by the Christian Church to insure guilt on the
part of its followers. The Christian Church knows that it is impossible for
anyone to avoid committing these sins, as they are all things which we, being
human, most naturally do. After inevitably committing these sins financial
offerings to the church in order to "pay off" God are employed as a sop to the
parishioner's conscience!
Satan has never needed a book of rules, because vital natural forces have kept
man "sinful" and intent on preserving himself and his feelings. Nevertheless,
demoralizing attempts have been made on his body and being for his "soul's"
sake, which only illustrate how misconceived and misused the labels of
"indulgence" versus "compulsion" have become.
Sexual activity certainly is condoned and encouraged by Satanism, but obviously
the fact that it is the only religion which honestly takes this stand, is the
reason it has been traditionally given so much literary space.
Naturally, if most people belong to the religions which repress them sexually,
anything written on this provocative subject is going to make for titillating
reading.
If all attempts to sell something (be it a product or an idea) have failed - sex
will always sell it. The reason for this is that even though people now
consciously accept sex as a normal and necessary function, their subconscious is
still bound by the taboo which religion has placed upon it. So, again, what is
denied is more intensely desired. It is this bugaboo regarding sex which causes
the literature devoted to the Satanic views on the subject to overshadow all
else written about Satanism.
The true Satanist is not mastered by sex any more than he is mastered by any of
his other desires. As with all other pleasurable things, the Satanist is master
of, rather than mastered by sex. He is not the perverted fiend who is just
waiting for the opportunity to deflower every young virgin, nor is he the
skulking degenerate who furtively hangs around in the "dirty" bookstores,
slavering over the "nasty" pictures. If pornography fills his needs for the
moment, he unashamedly buys some "choice items" and guiltlessly peruses them at
his leisure.
"We have to accept the fact that man has become disgruntled at being constantly
repressed, but we must do everything we can to at least temper the sinful
desires of man, lest they run rampant in this new age," say the religionists of
the right-hand path to the questioning Satanist. "Why continue to think of these
desires as shameful and something to be repressed, if you now admit they are
natural?" returns the Satanist. Could it be that the white-light religionists
are a bit "sour-grapes" about the fact that they didn't think of a religion,
before the Satanists, which would be enjoyable to follow; and if the truth were
known, would they too not like to have a bit more pleasure out of life, but for
fear of losing face, cannot admit it? Could it also be that they are afraid
people will, after hearing about Satanism, tell themselves "This is for me - why
should I continue with a religion which condemns me for everything I do, even
though there is nothing actually wrong with it?" The Satanist thinks this is
more than likely true.
There is certainly much evidence that past religions are, every day, lifting
more and more of their ridiculous restrictions. Even so, when an entire religion
is based on abstinence instead of indulgence (as it should be) there is little
left when it has been revised to meet the current needs of man. So, why waste
time "buying oats for a dead horse"?
The watchword of Satanism is INDULGENCE instead of "abstinence" . . . BUT - it
is not "compulsion".
ON THE CHOICE OF A HUMAN SACRIFICE
THE supposed purpose in performing the ritual of sacrifice is to throw the energy provided by the blood of the freshly slaughtered victim into the atmosphere of the magical working, thereby intensifying the magician's chances of success.
The "white" magician assumes that since blood represents the life force, there
is no better way to appease the gods or demons than to present them with
suitable quantities of it. Combine this rationale with the fact that a dying
creature is expending an overabundance of adrenal and other biochemical
energies, and you have what appears to be an unbeatable combination.
The "white" magician, wary of the consequences involved in the killing of a
human being, naturally utilizes birds, or other "lower" creatures in his
ceremonies. It seems these sanctimonious wretches feel no guilt in the taking of
a non-human life, as opposed to a human's.
The fact of the matter is that if the "magician" is worthy of his name, he will
be uninhibited enough to release the necessary force from his own body, instead
of from an unwilling and undeserving victim!
Contrary to all established magical theory, the release of this force is NOT
effected in the actual spilling of blood, but in the death throes of the living
creature! This discharge of bioelectrical energy is the very same phenominon
which occurs during any profound heightening of the emotions, such as: sexual
orgasm, blind anger, mortal terror, consuming grief, etc. Of these emotions, the
easiest entered into of one's own violation are sexual orgasm and anger, with
grief running a close third. Remembering that the two most readily available of
these three (sexual orgasm and anger) have been burned into man's unconscios as
"sinful" by religionists, it is small wonder they are shunned by the "white"
magician, who plods along carrying the greatest of all millstones of guilt!
The inhibitive and asinine absurdity in the need to kill an innocent living
creature at the high-point of a ritual, as practiced by erstwhile "wizards", is
obviously their "lesser of the evils" when a discharge of energy is called for.
These poor conscience-stricken fools, who have been calling themselves witches
and warlocks, would sooner chop the head off a goat or chicken in an attempt to
harness its death agony, than have the "blasphemous" bravery to masturbate in
full view of the Jehovah whom they claim to deny! The only way these mystical
cowards can ritualistically release themselves is through the agony of another's
death (actually their own, by proxy) rather than the indulgent force which
produces life! The treaders of the path of white light are truly the cold and
the dead! No wonder these tittering pustules of "mystical wisdom" must stand
within protective circles to bind the "evil" forces in order to keep themselves
"safe" from attack - ONE GOOD ORGASM WOULD PROBABLY KILL THEM!
The use of a human sacrifice in a Satanic ritual does not imply that the
sacrifice is slaughtered "to appease the gods". Symbolically, the victim is
destroyed through the working of a hex or curse, which in turn leads to the
physical, mental or emotional destruction of the "sacrifice" in ways and means
not attributable to the magician.
The only time a Satanist would perform a human sacrifice would be if it were to
serve a two-fold purpose; that being to release the magician's wrath in the
throwing of a curse, and more important, to dispose of a totally obnoxious and
deserving individual.
Under NO circumstances would a Satanist sacrifice any animal or baby! For
centuries, propagandists of the right-hand path have been prattling over the
supposed sacrifices of small children and voluptuous maidens at the hands of
diabolists. It would be thought that anyone reading or hearing of these heinous
accounts would immediately question their authenticity, taking into
consideration the biased sources of the stories. On the contrary, as with all
"holy" lies which are accepted without reservation, this assumed modus operandi
of the Satanists persists to this day!
There are sound and logical reasons why the Satanists could not perform such
sacrifices. Man, the animal, is the godhead to the Satanist. The purest form of
carnal existence reposes in the bodies of animals and human children who have
not grown old enough to deny themselves their natural desires. They can perceive
things that the average adult human can never hope to. Therefore, the Satanist
holds these beings in a sacred regard, knowing he can learn much from these
natural magicians of the world.
The Satanist is aware of the universal custom of the treader of the path of
Agarthi; the killing of the god. Inasmuch as gods are always created in man's
own image - and the average man hates what he sees in himself - the inevitable
must occur: the sacrifice of the god who represents himself. The Satanist does
not hate himself, nor the gods he might choose, and has no desire to destroy
himself or anything for which he stands! It is for this reason he could never
willfully harm an animal or child.
The question arises, "Who, then, would be considered a fit and proper human
sacrifice, and how is one qualified to pass judgment on such a person?" The
answer is brutally simple. Anyone who has unjustly wronged you - one who has
"gone out of his way" to hurt you - to deliberately cause trouble and hardship
for you or those dear to you. In short, a person asking to be cursed by their
very actions.
When a person, by his reprehensible behavior, practically cries out to be
destroyed, it is truly your moral obligation to indulge them their wish. The
person who takes every opportunity to "pick on" others is often mistakenly
called "sadistic". In reality, this person is a misdirected masochist who is
working towards his own destruction. The reason a person viciously strikes out
against you is because they are afraid of you or what you represent, or are
resentful of your happiness. They are weak, insecure, and on extremely shaky
ground when you throw your curse, and they make ideal human sacrifices.
It is sometimes easy to overlook the actual wrongdoing of the victim of your
curse, when one considers how "unhappy" a person he really is. It is not so
easy, though, to retrace the damaging footsteps of your antagonist and make
right those practical situations he or she has made wrong.
The "ideal sacrifice" may be emotionally insecure, but nonetheless can, in the
machinations of his insecurity, cause severe damage to your tranquility or sound
reputation. "Mental illness", "nervous breakdown", "maladjustment", "anxiety
neuroses", "broken homes", "sibling rivalry", etc., etc., ad infinitum have too
long been convenient excuses for vicious and irresponsible actions. Anyone who
says "we must try to understand" those who make life miserable for those
undeserving of misery is aiding and abetting a social cancer! The apologists for
these rabid humans deserve any clobberings they get at the hands of their
charges!
Mad dogs are destroyed, and they need help far more than the human who
conveniently made froths at the mouth when irrational behavior is in order! It
is easy to say, "So what! - these people are insecure, so they can't hurt me."
But the fact remains - given the opportunity they would destroy you!
Therefore, you have every right to (symbolically) destroy them, and if your
curse provokes their actual annihilation, rejoice that you have been
instrumental in ridding the world of a pest! If your success or happiness
disturbs a person - you owe him nothing! He is made to be trampled under foot!
IF PEOPLE HAD TO TAKE THE CONSEQUENCES OF THEIR OWN ACTIONS, THEY WOULD THINK TWICE!
LIFE AFTER DEATH THROUGH FULFILLMENT OF THE EGO
MAN is aware that he will die, someday. Other animals, when nearing death, know they are about to die; but it is not until death is certain that the animal senses his coming departure from this world. And even then he does not know exactly what is
entailed in dying. It is often pointed out that animals accept death gracefully,
without fear or resistance. This is a beautiful concept, but one that only holds
true in cases where death for the animal is unavoidable.
When an animal is sick or injured he will fight for his life with every ounce of
strength he has left. It is this unshakable will to live that, if man were not
so "highly evolved", would also give him the fighting spirit he needs to stay
alive.
It is a well known fact that many people die simply because they give up and
just don't care anymore. This is understandable if the person is very ill, with
no apparent chance for recovery. But this often is not the case. Man has become
lazy. He has learned to take the easy way out. Even suicide has become less
repugnant to many people than any number of other sins. Religion is totally to
blame for this.
Death, in most religions, is touted as a great spiritual awakening - one which
is prepared for throughout life. This concept is very appealing to one who has
not had a satisfactory life; but to those who have experienced all the joys life
has to offer, there is a great dread attached to dying. This is as it should be.
It is this lust for life which will allow the vital person to live on after the
inevitable death of his fleshly shell.
History shows that men who have given their own lives in pursuit of an ideal
have been deified for their martyrdom. Religionists and political leaders have
been very crafty in laying their plans. By holding the martyr up as a shining
example to his fellow men, they eliminate the common sense reaction that willful
self-destruction goes against all animal logic. To the Satanist, martyrdom and
non-personalized heroism is to be associated not with integrity, but with
stupidity. This, of course, does not apply to the situations which involve the
safety of a loved one. But to give one's own life for something as impersonal as
a political or religious issue is the ultimate in masochism.
Life is the one great indulgence; death the one great abstinence. To a person
who is satisfied with his earthly existence, life is like a party; and no one
likes to leave a good party. By the same token, if a person is enjoying himself
here on earth he will not so readily give up this life for the promise of an
afterlife about which he knows nothing.
The Eastern mystical beliefs teach humans to discipline themselves against any
conscious will for success so they might dissolve themselves into "Universal
Cosmic Awareness" - anything to avoid good healthy self-satisfaction or honest
pride in earthly accomplishments!
It is interesting to note that the areas in which this type of belief flourishes
are those where material gains are not easily obtainable. For this reason the
predominant religious belief must be one which commends its followers for their
rejection of material things and their avoidance of the use of labels which
attaches a certain amount of importance to material gains. In this way the
people can be pacified into accepting their lot, no matter how small it may be.
Satanism uses many labels. If it were not for names, very few of us would
understand anything in life, much less attach any significance to it; - and
significance compels recognition, which is something everyone wants, especially
the Eastern mystic who tries to prove to everyone he can meditate longer or
stand more deprivation and pain than the next fellow.
The Eastern philosophies preach the dissolution of man's ego before he can
produce sins. It is unfathomable to the Satanist to conceive of an ego which
would willfully choose denial of itself.
In countries where this is used as a sop for the willingly impoverished, it is
understandable that a philosophy which teaches the denial of the ego would serve
a useful purpose - at least for those in power, to whom it would be detrimental
if their people were discontented. But for anyone who has every opportunity for
material gain, to choose this form of religious thought seems foolish, indeed!
The Eastern mystic believes strongly in reincarnation. To a person who has
virtually nothing in this life, the possibility that he may have been a king in
a past life or may be one in the next life is very attractive, and does much to
appease his need for self-respect. If there is nothing in which they can take
pride in this life, they can console themselves by thinking, "there are always
future lives." It never occurs to the believer in reincarnation that if his
father, grandfather, and great-grandfather, etc. had developed "good karmas", by
their adherence to the same beliefs and ethics as his present ones - then why is
he now living in privation, rather than like a maharajah?
Belief in reincarnation provides a beautiful fantasy world in which a person can
find the proper avenue of ego-expression, but at the same time claim to have
dissolved his ego. This is emphasized by the roles people choose for themselves
in their past or future lives.
Believers in reincarnation do not always choose an honorable character. If the
person is of a highly respectable and conservative nature, he will often choose
a colorful rogue or gangster, thereby fulfilling his alter-ego. Or, a woman who
has much social status may pick a harlot or famous courtesan for the
characterization of herself in a past life.
If people were able to divorce themselves from the stigma attached to personal
ego-fulfillment, they would not need to play self-deceitful games such as belief
in reincarnation as a means of satisfying their natural need for
ego-fulfillment.
The Satanist believes in complete gratification of his ego. Satanism, in fact,
is the only religion which advocates the intensification or encouragement of the
ego. Only if a person's own ego is sufficiently fulfilled, can he afford to be
kind and complimentary to others, without robbing himself of his self-respect.
We generally think of a braggart as a person with a large ego; in reality, his
bragging results from a need to satisfy his impoverished ego.
Religionists have kept their followers in line by suppressing their egos. By
making their followers feel inferior, the awesomeness of their god is insured.
Satanism encourages its members to develop a good strong ego because it gives
them the self-respect necessary for a vital existence in this life.
If a person has been vital throughout his life and has fought to the end for his
earthly existence, it is this ego which will refuse to die, even after the
expiration of the flesh which housed it. Young children are to be admired for
their driving enthusiasm for life. This is exemplified by the small child who
refuses to go to bed when there is something exciting going on, and when once
put to bed, will sneak down the stairs to peek through the curtain and watch. It
is this child-like vitality that will allow the Satanist to peek through the
curtain of darkness and death and remain earthbound.
Self-sacrifice is not encouraged by the Satanic religion. Therefore, unless
death comes as an indulgence because of extreme circumstances which make the
termination of life a welcome relief from the unendurable earthyl existence,
suicide is frowned upon by the Satanic religion.
Religious martyrs have taken their own lives, not because life was intolerable
for them, but to use their supreme sacrifice as a tool to further the religious
belief. We must assume, then, that suicide, if done for the sake of the church,
is condoned and even encouraged - even though their scriptures label it a sin -
because religious martyrs of the past have always been deified.
It is rather curious that the only time suicide is considered sinful by other
religions is when it comes as an indulgence.
RELIGIOUS HOLIDAYS
THE highest of all holidays in the Satanic religion is the date of one's own birth.
This is in direct contradiction to the holy of holy days of other religions,
which deify a particular god who has been created in an anthropomorphic form of
their own image, thereby showing that the ego is not really buried.
The Satanist feels: "Why not really be honest and if you are going to create a
god in your image, why not create that god as yourself." Every man is a god if
he chooses to recognize himself as one. So, the Satanist celebrates his own
birthday as the most important holiday of the year. After all, aren't you
happier about the fact that you were born than you are about the birth of
someone you have never even met? Or for that matter, aside from religious
holidays, why pay higher tribute to the birthday of a president or to a date in
history than we do to the day we were brought into this greatest of all worlds?
Despite the fact that some of us may not have been wanted, or at least were not
particularly planned, we're glad, even if no one else is, that we're here! You
should give yourself a pat on the back, buy yourself whatever you want, treat
yourself like the king (or god) that you are, and generally celebrate your
birthday with as much pomp and ceremony as possible.
After one's own birthday, the two major Satanic holidays are Walpurgisnacht and
Halloween (or All Hallows' Eve).
St. Walpurgis - or Walpurga, or Walburga, depending upon the time and area in
which one is referring to her - was born in Sussex about the end of the Seventh
or the beginning of the Eighth Century, and was educated at Winburn, Dorset,
where after taking the veil, she remained for twenty-five years. She then, at
the instance of her uncle, St. Boniface, and her brother, St. Wilibald, set out
along with some other nuns to found religious houses in Germany. Her first
settlement was at Bischofsheim in the diocese of Mainz, and two years later (754
A.D.) she became abbess of the Benedictine nunnery at Heidenheim, within her
brother Wilibald's diocese of Eichstadt in Bavaria, where another brother,
Winebald, had at the same time also been made head of a monastery. On the death
of Winebald in 760 she succeeded him in his charge, retaining the
superintendence of both houses until her death on February 25, 779. Her relics
were translated to Eichstadt, where she was laid in a hollow rock, from which
exuded a kind of bituminous oil, afterwards known as Walpurgis oil, regarded as
having miraculous efficacy against disease. The cave became a place of
pilgrimage, and a great church was built over the spot. She is commemorated at
various times, but principally on May 1st, her day taking the place of an
earlier Pagan festival. Amazingly enough, all of this rigmarole was found
necessary simply to condone the continuance of the most important Pagan festival
of the year - the grand climax of the spring equinox!
The Eve of May has been memorialized as the night that all of the demons,
specters, afreets, and banshees would come forth and hold their wild revels,
symbolizing the fruition of the spring equinox.
Halloween - All Hallows' Eve, or All Saints' Day - falls on October 31st or
November 1st. Originally, All Hallows' Eve was one of the great fire festivals
of Britain at the time of the Druids. In Scotland it was associated with the
time when the spirits of the dead, the demons, witches, and sorcerers were
unusually active and propitious. Paradoxically, All Hallows' Eve was also the
night when young people performed magical rituals to determine their future
marriage partners. The youth of the villages carried on with much merry-making
and sensual revelry, but the older people took great care to safeguard their
homes from the evil spirits, witches, and demons who had exceptional power that
night.
The solstices and equinoxes are also celebrated as holidays, as they herald the
first day of the seasons. The difference between a solstice and an equinox is a
semantic one defining the relationship between the sun, moon, and the fixed
stars. The solstice applies to summer and winter; the equinox refers to autumn
and spring. The summer solstice is in June, and the winter solstice is in
December. The autumn equinox is in September, and the spring equinox is in
March. Both the equinoxes and the solstices vary a day or two from year to year,
depending on the lunar cycle at the time, but usually fall on the 21st or 22nd
of the month. Five to six weeks after these days the legendary Satanic revels
are celebrated.
THE BLACK MASS
NO other single device has been associated with Satanism as much as the black mass. To say that the most blasphemous of all religious ceremonies is nothing more than a literary invention is certainly a statement which needs qualifying - but nothing could be truer.
The popular concept of the black mass is thus: a defrocked priest stands before
an altar consisting of a nude woman, her legs spread-eagled and vagina thrust
open, each of her outstretched fists grasping a black candle made from the fat
of unbaptized babies, and a chalice containing the urine of a prostitute (or
blood) reposing on her belly. An inverted cross hangs above the altar, and
triangular hosts of ergot-laden bread or black-stained turnip are methodically
blessed as the priest dutifully slips them in and out of the altar-lady's labia.
Then, we are told, an invocation to Satan and various demons is followed by an
array of prayers and psalms chanted backwards or interspersed with obscenities .
. . all performed within the confines of a "protective" pentagram drawn on the
floow. If the Devil appears he is invariably in the form of a rather eager man
wearing the head of a black goat upon his shoulders. Then follows a potpouri of
flagellation, prayer-book burning, cunnilingus, fellatio, and general
hindquarters kissing - all done to a background of ribald recitations from the
Holy Bible, and audible expectorations on the cross! If a baby can be
slaughtered during the ritual, so much the better; for as everyone knows, this
is the favorite sport of the Satanist!
If this sounds repugnant, then the success of the reports of the black mass, in
keeping the devout in church, is easy to understand. No "decent" person could
fail to side with the inquisitors when told of these blasphemies. The
propagandists of the church did their job well, informing the public at one time
or another of the heresies and heinous acts of the Pagans, Cathars, Bogomils,
Templars and others who, because of their dualistic philosophies and sometimes
Satanic logic, had to be eradicated.
The stories of unbaptized babies being stolen by Satanists for use in the mass
were not only effective propoganda measures, but also provided a constant source
of revenue for the Church, in the form of baptism fees. No Christian mother
would, upon hearing of these diabolical kidnappings, refrain from getting her
child properly baptized, post haste.
Another facet of man's nature was apparent in the fact that the writer or artist
with lewd thoughts could exercise his most obscene predilections in the
portrayal of the activities of heretics. The censor who views all pornography so
that he will know what to warn others of is the modern equivalent of the
medieval chronicler of the obscene deeds of the Satanists (and, of course, their
modern journalistic counterparts). It is believed that the most complete library
of pornography in the world is owned by the Vatican!
The kissing of the Devil's behind during the traditional black mass is easily
recognized as the forerunner of the modern term used to describe one who will,
through appealing to another's ego, gain materially from him. As all Satanic
ceremonies were performed toward very real or material goals, the oscularum
infame (or kiss of shame) was considered a symbolic requisite towards earthly,
rather than spiritual, success.
The usual assumption is that the Satanic ceremony or service is always called a
black mass. A black mass is not the magical ceremony practiced by Satanists. The
Satanist would only employ the use of a black mass as a form of psychodrama.
Furthermore, a black mass does not necessarily imply that the performers of such
are Satanists. A black mass is essentially a parody of the religious service of
the Roman Catholic Church, but can be loosely applied to a satire on any
religious ceremony.
To the Satanist, the black mass, in its blaspheming of orthodox rites, is
nothing more than a redundancy. The services of all established religions are
actually parodies of old rituals performed by the worshippers of the earth and
the flesh. In attempts to de-sexualize and de-humanize the Pagan beliefs, later
men of spiritual faith whitewashed the honest meanings behind the rituals into
the bland euphemisms now considered to be the "true mass". Even if the Satanist
were to spend each night performing a black mass, he would no more be performing
a travesty than the devout churchgoer who unwittingly attends his own "black
mass" - his spoof on the honest and emotionally-sound rites of Pagan antiquity.
Any ceremony considered a black mass must effectively shock and outrage, as this
seems to be the measure of its success. In the Middle Ages, blaspheming the holy
church was shocking. Now, however, the Church does not present the awesome image
it did during the inquisition. The traditional black mass is no longer the
outrageous spectacle to the dilettante or renegade priest that it once was. If
the Satanist wishes to create a ritual to blaspheme an accepted institution, for
the purpose of psychodrama, he is careful to choose one that is not in vogue to
parody. Thus, he is truly stepping on a sacred cow.
A black mass, today, would consist of the blaspheming of such "sacred" topics as
Eastern mysticism, psychiatry, the psychedelic movement, ultra-liberalism, etc.
Patriotism would be championed, drugs and their gurus would be defiled,
acultural militants would be deified, and the decadence of ecclesiastical
theologies might even be given a Satanic boost.
The Satanic magus has always been the catalyst for the dichotomy necessary in
molding popular beliefs, and in this case a ceremony in the nature of a black
mass may serve a far-reaching magical purpose.
In the year 1666, some rather interesting events occurred in France. With the
death of François Mansart, the architect of the trapezoid, whose geometrics were
to become the prototype of the haunted house, the Palace of Versailles was being
constructed, in accordance with his plans. The last of the glamorous priestesses
of Satan, Jeanne-Marie Bouvier (Madame Guyon) was to be overshadowed by a shrewd
opportunist and callous business-woman named Catharine Deshayes, otherwise known
as LaVoisin. Here was an erstwhile beautician who, while dabbling in abortions
and purveying the most efficient poisons to ladies desirous of eliminating
unwanted husbands or lovers, found in the lurid accounts of the "messes noir" a
proverbial brainstorm.
It is safe to say that 1666 was the year of the first "commercial" black mass!
In the region south of St. Denis, which is now called LaGarenne, a great walled
house was purchased by LaVoisin and fitted with dispensaries, cells,
laboratories, and . . . a chapel. Soon it became de rigueur for royalty and
lesser dillettantes to attend and participate in the very type of service
mentioned earlier in this chapter. The organized fraud perpetrated in these
ceremonies has become indelibly marked in history as the "true black mass".
When LaVoisin was arrested on March 13, 1679 (in the Church of Our Blessed Lady
of Good Tidings, incidentally), the die had already been cast. The degraded
activities of LaVoisin had stifled the majesty of Satanism for many years to
come.
The Satanism-for-fun-and-games fad next appeared in England in the middle 18th
Century in the form of Sir Francis Dashwood's Order of the Medmanham Fanciscans,
popularly called The Hell-Fire Club. While eliminating the blood, gore, and
baby-fat candles of the previous century's masses, Sir Francis managed to
conduct rituals replete with good dirty fun, and certainly provided a colorful
and harmless form of psychodrama for many of the leading lights of the period.
An interesting sideline of Sir Francis, which lends a clue to the climate of the
Hell-Fire Club, was a group called the Dilettanti Club, of which he was the
founder.
It was the 19th Century that brought a whitewashing to Satanism, in the feeble
attempts of "white" magicians trying to perform "black" magic. This was a very
paradoxical period for Satanism, with writers such as Baudelaire and Huysmans
who, despite their apparent obsession with evil, seemed nice enough fellows. The
Devil developed his Luciferian personality for the public to see, and gradually
evolved into a sort of drawing-room gentleman. This was the era of "experts" on
the black arts, such as Eliphas Levi and countless trance-mediums who, with
their carefully bound spirits and demons, have also succeeded in binding the
minds of many who call themselves parapsychologists to this day!
As far as Satanism is concerned, the closest outward signs of this were the
neo-Pagan rites conducted by MacGregor Mathers' Hermetic Order of the Golden
Dawn, and Aleister Crowley's later Order of the Silver Star (A... A... -
Argentinum Astrum) and Order of Oriental Templars (O.T.O.)*, which paranoiacally
denied any association with Satanism, despite Crowley's self-imposed image of
the beast of revelation. Aside from some rather charming poetry and a smattering
of magical bric-a-brac, when not climbing mountains Crowley spent most of his
time as a poseur par excellence and worked overtime to be wicked. Like his
contemporary, Rev.(?) Mantague Summers, Crowley obviously spent a large part of
his life with his tongue jammed firmly into his cheek, but his followers, today,
are somehow able to read esoteric meaning into his every word.
Perennially concurrent with these societies were the sex clubs using Satanism as
a rationale - that persists today, for which tabloid newspaper writers may give
thanks.
If it appears that the black mass developed from a literary invention of the
church, to a depraved commercial actuality, to a psychodrama for dilettantes and
iconoclasts, to an ace in the hole for popular media . . . then where does it
fit into the true nature of Satanism - and who was practicing Satanic magic in
those years beyond 1666?
The answer to this riddle lies in another. Is the person generally considered to
be a Satanist really practicing Satanism in its true sense, or rather from the
point of view taken by the opinion makers of heavenly persuasion? It has often
been said, and rightly so, that all of the books about the Devil have been
written by the agents of God. It is, therefore, quite easy to understand how a
certain breed of devil worshippers was created through the inventions of
theologians. This erstwhile "evil" character is not necessarily practicing true
Satanism. Nor is he a living embodiment of the element of untrammeled pride or
majesty of self which gave the post-Pagan world the churchman's definition of
evil. He is instead the by-product of later and more elaborate propaganda.
The pseudo-Satanist has always managed to appear throughout modern history, with
his black masses of varying degrees of blasphemy; but the real Satanist is not
quite so easily recognized as such.
It would be an over-simplification to say that every successful man and woman on
earth is, without knowing it, a practicing Satanist; but the thirst for earthly
success and its ensuing realization are certainly grounds for Saint Peter
turning thumbs down. If the rich man's entry into heaven seems as difficult as
the camel's attempt to go through the eye of a needle; if the love of money is
the root of all evil; then we must at least assume the post powerful men on
earth to be the most Satanic. This applies to financiers, industrialists, popes,
poets, dictators, and all assorted opinion-makers and field marshals of the
world's activities.
Occasionally, through "leakages", one of the enigmatic men or women of earth
will be found to have "dabbled" in the black arts. These, of course, are brought
to light as in the "mystery men" of history. Names like Rasputin, Zaharoff,
Cagliostro, Rosenberg and their ilk are links - clues, so to speak, of the true
legacy of Satan . . . a legacy which transcends ethnic, racial, and econimic
differences and temporal ideologies, as well. The Satanist has always ruled the
earth . . . and always will, by whatever name he is called.
One thing stands sure: the standards, philosophy and practices set forth on
these pages are those employed by the most self-realized and powerful humans on
earth. In the secret thoughts of each man and woman, still motivated byt sound
and unclouded minds, resides the potential of the Satanist, as always has been.
The sign of the horns shall appear to many, now, rather than the few; and the
magician will stand forth that he may be recognized.
(EARTH)
THE BOOK OF BELIAL
THE MASTERY OF THE EARTH
The greatest appeal of magic is not in its application,
but in its esoteric meanderings. The element of mystery which so heavily
enshrouds the practice of the black arts has been fostered, deliberately or out
of ignorance, by those who often claim the highest expertise in such matters. If
the shortest distance between two points is a straight line, then established
occultists would do well as maze-makers. The basic principles of ceremonial
magic have been relegated for so long to infinitely classified bits of
scholastic mysticism, that the would-be wizard becomes the victim of the very
art of misdirection which he, himself, should be employing! An analogy may be
drawn of the student of applied psychology who, though knowing all of the
answers, cannot make friends.
What good is a study of falsehoods, unless everyone believes in falsehoods?
Many, of course, DO believe in falsehoods, but still ACT according to natural
law. It is upon this premise that Satanic magic is based. This is a primer - a
basic text on materialistic magic. It is a Satanic McGuffrey's Reader.
Belial means "without a master", and symbolizes true independence,
self-sufficiency, and personal accomplishment. Belial represents the earth
element, and herein will be found magic with both feet on the ground - real,
hard-core, magical procedure - not mystical platitudes devoid of objective
reason. Probe no longer. Here is bedrock!
THE THEORY AND PRACTICE OF SATANIC MAGIC
(Definition and Purpose)
THE definition of magic, as used in this book, is:
"The change in situations or events in accordance with one's will, which would,
using normally accepted methods, be unchangable." This admittedly leaves a large
area for personal interpretation. It will be said, by some, that these
instructions and procedures are nothing more than applied psychology, or
scientific fact, called by "magical" terminology - until they arrive at a
passage in the text that is "based on no known scientific finding". It is for
this reason that no attempt has been made to limit the explanations set forth to
a set nomenclature. Magic is never totally scientifically explainable, but
science has always been, at one time or another, considered magic.
There is no difference between "White" and "Black" magic, except in the smug
hypocrisy, guilt-ridden righteousness, and self-deceit of the "White" magician
himself. In the classical religious tradition, "White" magic is performed for
altruistic, benevolent, and "good" purposes; while "Black" magic is used for
self-aggrandizement, personal power, and "evil" purposes. No one on earth ever
pursued occult studies, metaphysics, yoga, or any other "white light" concept,
without ego gratification and personal power as a goal. It just so happens that
some people enjoy wearing hair shirts, and others prefer velvet or silk. What is
pleasure to one, is pain to another, and the same applies to "good" and "evil".
Every practitioner of witchcraft is convinced that he or she is doing the
"right" thing.
Magic falls into two categories, ritual or ceremonial, and non-ritual or
manipulative. Ritual magic consists of the performance of a formal ceremony,
taking place, at least in part, within the confines of an area set aside for
such purposes and at a specific time. Its main function is to isolate the
otherwise dissipated adrenal and other emotionally induced energy, and convert
it into a dynamically transmittable force. It is purely an emotional, rather
than intellectual, act. Any and all intellectual activity must take place before
the ceremony, not during it. This type of magic is sometimes known as "GREATER
MAGIC".
Non-ritual or manipulative magic, sometimes called "LESSER MAGIC", consists of
the wile and guile obtained through various devices and contrived situations,
which when utilized, can create "change, in accordance with one's will". In
olden times this would be called "fascination", "glamour", or the "evil eye".
Most of the victims of the witch trials were not witches. Often the victims were
eccentric old women who were either senile or did not conform to society. Others
were exceptionally attractive women who turned the heads of the men in power,
and were not responsive to their advances. The real witches were rarely
executed, or even brought to trial, as they were proficient in the art of
enchantment and could charm the men and save their own lives. Most of the real
witches were sleeping with the inquisitors. This is the origin of the word
"glamour". The antiquated meaning of glamour is witchcraft. The most important
asset to the modern witch is her ability to be alluring, or to utilize glamour.
The word "fascination" has a similarly occult origin. Fascination was the term
applied to the evil eye. To fix a person's gaze, in other words, fascinate, was
to curse them with the evil eye. Therefore, if a woman had the ability to
fascinate men, she was regarded as a witch.
Learning to effectively utilize the command to LOOK, is an integral part of a
witch's or warlock's training. To manipulate a person, you must first be able to
attract and hold his attention. The three methods by which the command to look
can be accomplished are the utilization of sex, sentiment, or wonder, or any
combination of these. A witch must, honestly, decide into which category she
most naturally falls. The first category, that of sex, is self-evident. If a
woman is attractive or sexually appealing, she should do everything in her power
to make herself as enticing as possible, thereby using sex as her most powerful
tool. Once she has gained the man's attention, by using her sex appeal, she is
free to manipulate him to her will. The second category is sentiment. Usually
older woman fit into this category. This would include the "cookie lady" type
witch, who might live in a little cottage, and be thought of by people as being
a bit eccentric. Children are usually enchanted by the fantasy that this type of
witch can provide for them, and young adults seek her out for her sage-like
advice. Through their innocence, children can recognize her magical power. By
conforming to an image of the sweet little old lady next door, she can employ
the art of misdirection to accomplish her goals. The third category is the
wonder theme. This category would apply to the woman who is strange or awesome
in her appearance. By making her strange appearance work for her, she can
manipulate people simply becuase they are fearful of the consequences should
they not do as she asks.
Many women fit into more than one of these categories. For example, the young
girl who has an appearance of freshness and innocence, but at the same time is
very sexy, combines sex appeal with sinister overtones, uses sex and wonder.
After evaluating her assets, each witch must decide into which category or
combination of categories she fits, and then utilize these assets in their
proper form.
To be a successful warlock, a man must similarly fit himself into the proper
category. The handsome or sexually appealing man would, naturally, fit into the
first category - sex. The second, or sentiment category would apply to the older
man who has, perhaps, an elfin or forest wizard appearance. The sweet old
grandpa (often a dirty old man!) would also be in the sentiment category. The
third type would be the man who presents a sinister or diabolic appearance. Each
of these men would apply his particular brand of the command to look, in much
the same way as the women previously described.
Visual imagery utilized for emotional reaction is certainly the most important
device incorporated in the practice of lesser magic. Anyone who is foolish
enough to say "looks don't mean a thing" is indeed deluded. Good looks are
unnecessary, but "looks" certainly are needed!
Odor is another important manipulative factor in lesser magic. Remember, animals
fear and distrust anyone or anything that doesn't smell! And even though we may,
as human animals, deny many of the judgments based on this sense consciously, we
still are motivated by our sense of smell just as surely as any all-fours
animal. If you are a man, and wish to enchant a woman, allow the natural
secretions of your body to pervade the atmosphere immediately around you, and
work in animalistic contrast to the vestments of social politeness that you wear
upon your back. If you, as a woman, wish to bewitch a man, do not fear that you
might "offend" simply because the oils and fragrances of your flesh have not
been scrubbed away, or that place between your thighs is not dry and sterile.
These natural odors are the sexual stimulants which nature, in her magical
wisdom, has provided.
The sentiment stimulants are those odors that will appeal to pleasant memories
and nostalgia. The enchanting of a man, through his stomach, is first
established by the smell of cooking! A "sentiment" type of witch will find this
one of the most useful of all charms. It is not so facetious to dwell upon the
technique of the man who wished to charm the young lady who had been displaced
from her home of childhood joys, which happened to be a fishing village. Wise to
the ways of lesser magic, he neatly tucked a mackerel into his trousers pocket,
and reaped the rewards that great fondness may often bring.
THE THREE TYPES OF SATANIC RITUAL
THERE are three types of ceremony incorporated in the
practice of Satanic magic. Each of these correspond to a basic human emotion.
The first of these we shall call a sex ritual.
A sex ritual is what is commonly known as a love charm or spell. The purpose in
performing such a ritual is to create desire on the part of the person whom you
desire, or to summon a sex partner to fulfill your desires. If you have no
specific person or type of person in mind strong enough to cause direct sexual
feeling culminating in orgasm, you will not succeed in performing as successful
working. The reason for this is that even if the ritual was successful, by
accident, what good would it serve if you could not take advantage of your
eventual opportunity because of lack of stimulation or desire? It is easy to
confuse enchantment for your ulterior motives, with spell-casting to satisfy
your sexual desires.
Enchantment for self-aggrandizement, when accompanied by ceremonial magic, falls
into the category of either the compassion or the destruction ritual, or
possibly both. If you want or need something so badly you are sad or feel much
anguish without it, without causing hurt on another's part, then this would
incorporate a compassion ritual to increase your power. If you wish to enchant
or entrap a deserving victim for your own purposes, you would employ a
destruction ritual. These formulas are to be adhered to, as applying the wrong
type of ritual towards a desired result can lead to trouble of a complicated
nature.
A good example of this is the girl who finds herself plagued by a relentless
suitor. If she has done little to encourage him, then she should recognize him
for the psychic vampire he is, and let him play his masochistic role. If,
however, she has enchanted him frivolously, giving him every encouragement and
then finds herself a steady object of sexual desire, much to her dismay, she has
no one to blame but herself. Such exercises are only ego boosts, borne of an
indoctrination of ego denial which makes these little bewitchments necessary.
The Satanist has enough ego strength to use enchantments for her own sexual
gratification, or to gain power or success of a specific nature.
The second type of ritual is of a compassionate nature. The compassion, or
sentiment, ritual is performed for the purpose of helping others, or helping
oneself. Health, domestic happiness, business activities, material success, and
scholastic prowess are but a few of the situations covered in a compassion
ritual. It might be said that this form of ceremony could fall into the realm of
genuine charity, bearing in mind that "charity begins at home".
The third motivating force is that of destruction. This is a ceremony used for
anger, annoyance, disdain, contempt, or just plain hate. It is known as a hex,
curse, or destroying agent.
One of the greatest of all fallacies about the practice of ritual magic is the
notion that one must believe in the powers of magic before one can be harmed or
destroyed by them. Nothing could be farther from the truth, as the most
receptive victims of curses have always been the greatest scoffers. The reason
is frighteningly simple. The uncivilized tribesman is the first to run to his
nearest witch-doctor or shaman when he feels a curse has been placed upon him by
an enemy. The threat and presence of harm is with him consciously, and belief in
the power of the curse is so strong that he will take every precaution against
it. Thus, through the application of sympathetic magic, he will counteract any
harm that might come his way. This man is watching his step, and not taking any
chances.
On the other hand, the "enlightened" man, who doesn't place any stock in such
"superstition", relegates his instinctive fear of the curse to his unconscious,
thereby nourishing it into a phenominally destructive force that will multiply
with each succeeding misfortune. Of course, every time a new setback occurs, the
non-believer will automatically deny any connection with the curse, especially
to himself. The emphatic conscious denial of the potential of the curse is the
very ingredient that will create its success, through setting-up of accident
prone situations. In many instances, the victim will deny any magical
significance to his fate, even unto his dying gasp - although the magician is
perfectly satisfied, so long as his desired results occur. It must be remembered
that it matters not whether anyone attaches any significance to your working, so
long as the results of the working are in accordance with your will. The
super-logician will always explain the connection of the magical ritual to the
end result as "coincidence".
Whether magic is performed for constructive or destructive purposes, the success
of the operation is dependent on the receptivity of the person who is to receive
the blessing or curse, as the case may be. In the case of a sex or compassion
ritual, it helps if the recipient has faith and believes in magic, but the
victim of a hex or curse is much more prone to destruction if he DOES NOT
believe in it! So long as man knows the meaning of fear, he will need the ways
and means to defend himself against his fears. No one knows everything, and as
long as there is wonder, there will always be an apprehension of the unknown,
where there are potentially dangerous forces. It is this natural fear of the
unknown, a first cousin to the fascination towards the unknown, that impels the
man of logic towards his very explanations. Obviously, the man of science is
motivated to discovery by his very sense of wonder. And yet, how sad that this
man who calls himself logical is often the last to recognize the essence of
ritual magic.
If religious faith can make bleeding wounds appear on the body in approximation
to the wounds supposedly inflicted on Christ, it is called stigmata. These
wounds appear as a result of compassion driven to an emotionally violent
extreme. Why, then, should there be any doubt as to the destructive extremes of
fear and terror. The so-called demons have the power to destroy in a flesh
rending manner, theoretically, as much as a handful of nails, long rusted away,
can create blood-dripping ecstasy in a person convinced he is hooked upon the
cross of Calvary.
Therefore, never attempt to convince the skeptic upon whom you wish to place a
curse. Allow him to scoff. To enlighten him would lessen your chance of success.
Listen with benign assurance as he laughs at your magic, knowing his days are
filled with turmoil all the while. If he is despicable enough, by Satan's grace,
he might even die - laughing!
A WORD OF WARNING!
TO THOSE WHO WOULD PRACTICE THESE ARTS -
Concerning Sex or Lust: Take full advantage of spells and charms that work; if
you be a man, plunge your erect member into her with lascivious delight; if you
be a woman, open wide your loins in lewd anticipation. Concerning Compassion:
Be resolved that you'll have no regrets at the expense of the help that you have
given others, should their new-found blessings place an obstacle in your path.
Be grateful for things that come to you through the use of magic. Concerning
Destruction: Be certain you DO NOT care if the intended victim lives or dies,
before you throw your curse, and having caused their destruction, revel, rather
than feel remorse.
HEED WELL THESE RULES - OR IN EACH CASE YOU WILL SEE A REVERSAL OF YOUR DESIRES WHICH WILL HARM, RATHER THAN HELP, YOU!
THE RITUAL, OR "INTELLECTUAL DECOMPRESSION", CHAMBER
A MAGICAL ceremony may be performed by oneself or in
a group, but the advantages of each should be made clear.
A group ritual is certainly much more of a reinforcement of faith, and an
instillation of power, than is a private ceremony. The massing together of
persons who are dedicated to a common philosophy is bound to insure a renewal of
confidence in the power of magic. The pageantry of religion consistently becomes
a solitary situation it reaches into that realm of self-denail which runs
concurrent with anti-social behavior.
It is for this reason that the Satanist should attempt to seek out others with
whom to engage in these ceremonies.
In the case of a curse or destruction ritual, it sometimes helps the magician if
his desires are intensified by other members of the group. There is nothing in
this type of ceremony which would lead to embarrassment on the part of those
conducting a ritual of this sort, since anger and the symbolic destruction of
the intended victim are the essential ingredients.
On the other hand, a compassion ritual, with its unashamed shedding of tears, or
a sex ritual, with its masturbatory and orgasmic overtones, would most likely
succeed best if privately performed.
There is no place for self-consciousness in the ritual chamber, unless that very
self-consciousness is an integral part of the role being played, and can be used
to good advantage - i.e.: the shame felt by a prudent woman serving as an altar,
who, through her embarrassment, feels sexual stimulation.
Even in a totally personalized ritual, however, the standardized preliminary
invocations and devices should be employed before the intimate fantasies and
acting out occur. The formal part of the ritual can be performed in the same
room or chamber as the personalized working - or, the formal ceremony in one
place, the personal in another. The beginning and end of the ritual must be
conducted within the confines of the ritual chamber containing the symbolic
devices (altar, chalice, etc.).
The formalized beginning and end of the ceremony acts as a dogmatic,
anti-intellectual device, the purpose of which is to disassociate the activities
and frame of reference of the outside world from that of the ritual chamber,
where the whole will must be employed. This facet of the ceremony is most
important to the intellectual, as he especially requires the "decompression
chamber" effect of the chants, bells, candles, and other trappings, before he
can put his pure and willful desires to work for himself, in the projection and
utilization of his imagery.
The "intellectual decompression chamber" of the Satanic temple might be
considered a training school for temporary ignorance, as are ALL religious
services! The difference is that the Satanist KNOWS he is practicing a form of
contrived ignorance in order to expand his will, whereas another religionist
doesn't - or if he does know, he practices that form of self-deceit which
forbids such recognition. His ego is already too shaky from his religious
inculcation to allow himself to admit to such a thing as self-imposed ignorance!
THE INGREDIENTS USED IN THE PERFORMANCE OF SATANIC MAGIC
A. Desire
THE first ingredient in the performance of a ritual is desire, otherwise
known as motivation, temptation, or emotional persuasion. If you do not truly
desire any end result, you should not attempt to perform a working.
There is no such thing as a "practice" working, and the only way that a magician
could do "tricks" such as moving inanimate objects, would be to have a strong
emotional need to do so. It is true that if the magician wishes to gain power
through impressing others with his feats of magic, he must produce tangible
proof of his ability. The Satanic concept of magic, however, fails to find
gratification in the proving of magical prowess.
The Satanist performs his ritual to insure the outcome of his desires, and he
would not waste his time nor force of will on something so inconclusive as
folling a pencil off a table, etc. through the application of magic. The amount
of energy needed to levitate a teacup (genuinely) would be of sufficient force
to place an idea in a group of people's heads half-way across the earth, in
turn, motivating them in accordance with your will. The Satanist knows that even
if you succeeded in lifting the teacup from the table, it would be assumed that
trickery was used anyway. Therefore, if the Satanist wants to float objects in
mid-air, he uses wires, mirrors, or other devices, and saves his force for
self-aggrandizement. All "gifted" mediums and white-light mystics practice pure
and applied stage magic, with their blindfolds and sealed envelopes, and any
fairly competent stage magician, carnival worker, or lodge-hall entertainer can
duplicate the same effect - although lacking, perhaps, the sanctimonious
"spiritual" overtones.
A little child learns that if he wishes for something hard enough, it will come
true. This is meaningful. Wishing indicates desire, whereas prayer is
accompanied by apprehension. Scripture has twisted desire into lust,
covetousness, and greed. Be as a child, and do not stifle desire, lest you lose
touch with the first ingredient in the performance of magic. Be led into
temptation, and take that which tempts, whenever you can!
THE INGREDIENTS USED IN THE PERFORMANCE OF SATANIC MAGIC
B. Timing
IN every successful situation, one of the most important ingredients is the
proper timing. In the performance of a magical ritual, timing can mean success
or failure to an even greater extent. The best time to cast your spell or charm,
hex or curse, is when your target is at his most receptive state. Receptivity to
the will of the magician is assured when the recipient is as passive as
possible. No matter how strong-willed one is, he is naturally passive while he
is asleep; therefore, the best time to throw your magical energy towards your
target is when he or she sleeps.
There are certain periods of the sleep cycle that are better than others for
susceptibility to outside influences. When a person is normally fatigued from a
day's activities, he will "sleep like a log" until his mind and body are rested.
This period of profound sleep usually lasts about four to six hours, after which
the period of "dream sleep" occurs which lasts two or three hours, or until
awakening. It is during this "dream sleep" that the mind is most receptive to
outside or unconscious influence.
Let us assume the magician wishes to cast a spell on a person who would usually
retire at 11 o'clock in the evening, and rise at 7 o'clock in the morning. The
most effective time to perform a ritual would be about 5 o'clock in the morning,
or two hours before the recipient awakens.
It is to be emphasized that the magician must be at his peak of efficiency, as
he represents the "sending" factor when he performs his ritual. Traditionally
speaking, witches and sorcerers are night people, and understandably so. What
better schedule on which to live, for the sending of thoughts towards
unsuspecting sleepers! If only people were aware of the thoughts injected into
their minds while they slept! The dream state is the birthplace of much of the
future. Great thoughts are manifest upon awakening, and the mind that retains,
in conscious form, these thoughts, shall produce much. But he who is guided by
thoughts unrecognized is led into situations that will later be interpreted as
"fate", "God's will", or accident.
There are other times in each person's day that lend themselves to the receiving
of the will of the wizard. Those times when day-dreaming or boredom ensue, or
when time hangs heavy, are fertile periods of suggestibility.
If a woman is the target for your spell, do not forget the importance of the
menstrual cycle. If man were not dulled through his stifling evolutionary
development, he would know, as an all-fours animal knows, when the female was
most sexually inclined. Man's snout, however unsullied by cheap opiates, is not
normally equipped to ferret out such tell-tale erotic scents. Even if he were so
endowed with such olfactory powers, the object of his quest would most likely
"throw him off the scent" through the use of massive doses of perfumery to cover
and smother the "offending" effluvium, or eliminate detection completely, by the
astringent action of powerful deodorants.
Despite these discouraging factors, man is still motivated to desire or be
repelled, as the case may be, by his unconscious recognition of the change in
woman's body chemistry. This is accomplished in the form of a sensory cue, which
is olfactory in its nature. To go backwards, in what would amount to a return to
the all-fours animal, would seem to be the best exercise for the conscious
application of these powers, but to the squeamish might smack of lycanthropy.
There is, however, an easier way, and that is to simply ascertain the dates and
frequency of the menstrual cycle of the woman who is your target. It is
immediately before and after the period itself that the average woman is most
sexually approachable. Therefore, the magician will find the sleep period during
these times most effective for the instillation of thoughts or motivations of a
sexual nature.
Witches and sorceresses have a much greater range of time in which to cast their
spells toward the men of their choice. Becuase man is more consistent in his
sexual drives than woman (although there are many women with equal or even
greater lusts), day to day timing is not as important. Any man who is not
already drained of all sexual energy is a "sitting duck" for the proficient
witch. The time of the year following the spring equinox is the most fraught
with sexual vigor in a man, and he asserts himself accordingly; but the witch,
in turn, must work her magic stronger, as she will find his eyes will stray.
Should the fearful ask, "Is there no defense against such witchery?" it must be
answered thus - "Yes, there is protection. You must never sleep, never daydream,
never be without a vital thought, and never have an open mind. Then you shall be
protected from the forces of magic."
THE INGREDIENTS USED IN THE PERFORMANCE OF SATANIC MAGIC
C. Imagery
THE adolescent boy who takes great care in carving, on a tree, a heart
containing his and his love object's initials; the little chap who sits by the
hour drawing his conception of sleek automobiles; the tiny girl who rocks a
scuffed and ragged doll in her arms, and thinks of it as her beautiful little
baby - these capable witches and warlocks, these natural magicians, are
employing the magical ingredient known as imagery, and the success of any ritual
depends on it.
Children, not knowing or caring if they possess artistic skill or other creative
talents, pursue their goals through the use of imagery of their own manufacture,
whereas "civilized" adults are much more critical of their own creative efforts.
This is why a "primitive" magician can utilize a mud doll or crude drawing to
successful advantage in his magical ceremonies. To HIM, the image is as accurate
as needs be.
Anything which serves to intensify the emotions during a ritual will contribute
to its success. Any drawing, painting, sculpture, writing, photograph, article
of clothing, scent, sound, music, tableau, or contrived situation that can be
incorporated into the ceremony will serve the sorcerer well.
Imagery is a constant reminder, an intellect-saving device, a working substitute
for the real thing. Imagery can be manipulated, set up, modified, and created,
all according to the will of the magician, and the very blueprint that is
created by imagery becomes the formula which leads to reality.
If you wish to enjoy sexual pleasures with the one of your choice, you must
create the situation you desire on paper, canvas, by the written word, etc., in
as overstated a way as possible, as an integral part of the ceremony.
If you have material desires, you must gaze upon images of them - surround
yourself with the smells and sounds conducive to them - create a lodestone which
will attract the situation or thing that you wish!
To insure the destruction of an enemy, you must destroy them by proxy! They must
be shot, stabbed, sickened, burned, smashed, drowned, or rent in the most
vividly convincing manner! It is easy to see why the religions of the right-hand
path frown upon the creation of "graven images". The imagery used by the
sorcerer is a working mechanism for material reality, which is totally opposed
to esoteric spirituality.
A Greek gentleman of magical persuasion once wanted a woman who would satisfy
his every desire, and so obsessed with the unfound object of his dreams was he,
that he went about constructing such a wonderful creature. His work completed,
he fell so convincingly and irrevocably in love with the woman he had created
that she was no longer stone, but mortal flesh, and alive and warm; and so the
magus, Pygmalion, received the greatest of magical benedictions, and the
beautiful Galatea was his.
THE INGREDIENTS USED IN THE PERFORMANCE OF SATANIC MAGIC
D. Direction
ONE of the most overlooked ingredients in the working of magic is the
accumulation and subsequent direction of force toward an effective end.
Altogether too many would-be witches and warlocks will perform a ritual, and
then go about with tremendous anxiety waiting for the first sign of a successful
working. For all intent and purpose, they might as well get down on their knees
and pray, for their very anxiety in waiting for the desired results only
nullifies any real chance of success. Furthermore, with this attitude, it is
doubtful that enough concentrated energy to even perform a proper ceremony could
be stored up in the first place.
To dwell upon or constantly complain about the situation upon which your ritual
would be based only guarantees the weakening of what should be ritualistically
directed force, by spreading it thin and diluting it. Once the desire has been
established strongly enough to employ the forces of magic, then every attempt
must be made to symbolically give vent to these wishes
IN THE PERFORMANCE OF THE RITUAL - NOT before or after!
The purpose of the ritual is to FREE the magician from thoughts that would
consume him, were he to dwell upon them constantly. Contemplation, daydreaming
and constant scheming burns up emotional energy that could be gathered together
in a dynamically usable force; not to mention the fact that normal productivity
is severely depleted by such consuming anxiety.
The witch who casts her spells between long waits by the telephone, anticipating
her would-be lover's call; the destitute warlock who invokes Satan's blessing,
then waits on pins and needles for the check to arrive; the man, saddened by the
injustices wrought upon him, who, having cursed his enemy, plods his way, long
of face, and forrowed of brow - all are common examples of misdirected emotional
energy.
Small wonder that the "white" magician fears retribution after casting an "evil"
spell! Retribution, to the guilt-ridden sender, would be assured, by their very
conscience-stricken state!
THE INGREDIENTS USED IN THE PERFORMANCE OF SATANIC MAGIC
E. The Balance Factor
THE Balance Factor is an ingredient employed in the practice of ritual magic
which applies to the casting of lust and compassion rituals more than in the
throwing of a curse. This ingredient is a small, but extremely important one.
A complete knowledge and awareness of this factor is an ability few witches and
warlocks ever attain. This is, simply, knowing the proper type of individual and
situation to work your magic on for the easiest and best results. Knowing one's
own limitations is a rather odd bit of introspection, it would seem, for a
person who should be able to perform the impossible; but under many conditions
it can make the difference between success and failure.
If, in attempting to attain your goal through either greater or lesser magic,
you find yourself failing consistently, think about these things: Have you been
the victim of a misdirected, over-blown ego which has caused you to want
something or someone when the chances are virtually non-existent? Are you a
talentless, tone-deaf individual who is attempting, through magic, to receive
great acclaim for your unmusical voice? Are you a plain, glamorless witch with
oversized feet, nose, and ego, combined with an advanced case of acne, who is
casting love spells to catch a handsome young movie star? Are you a gross,
lumpy, lewd-mouthed, snaggle-toothed loafer who is desirous of a luscious young
stripper? If so, you'd better learn to use the balance factor, or else expect to
fail consistently!
To be able to adjust one's wants to one's capabilities is a great talent, and
too many people fail to realize that if they are unable to attain the maximum,
"a half a loaf can be better than none". The chronic loser is always the man
who, having nothing, if unable to make a million dollars, will reject any chance
to make fifty thousand with a disgruntled sneer.
One of the magician's greatest weapons is knowing himself; his talents,
abilities, physical attractions and detractions, etc., and when, where, and with
whom to utilize them! The man with nothing to offer, who approaches the man who
is successful with grandiose advice and promise of great wealth, has the
alacrity of the flea climbing up the elephant's leg with the intention of rape!
The aspiring witch who deludes herself into thinking that a powerful enough
working will always succeed, despite a magical imbalance, is forgetting one
essential rule: MAGIC IS LIKE NATURE ITSELF, AND SUCCESS IN MAGIC REQUIRES WORKING IN HARMONY WITH NATURE, NOT AGAINST IT.
THE SATANIC RITUAL
A. NOTES WHICH ARE TO BE OBSERVED BEFORE BEGINNING RITUAL
Person performing ritual stands facing the altar and symbol of Baphomet
throughout ritual, except when other positions are specifically indicated. If
possible, altar should be against west wall. In rituals performed by one person
the role of priest is not required. When more than one person is involved in the
ceremony, one of them must act as priest. In a private ritual the sole performer
follows the instructions for the priest. Whenever the words "Shemhamforash!"
and "Hail Satan!" are spoken by the person acting as priest, the other
participants will repeat the words after him. The gong is struck following the
other participants' response to "Hail Satan!" Conversing (except within the
context of the ceremony) and smoking are prohibited after the bell is rung at
the beginning, until after it is again rung at the end of the ritual. The Book
of Belial contians the principles of Satanic magic and ritual. Before attempting
the rituals in the Book of Leviathan, it is imperative that you read and
understand the complete Book of Belial. Until you have done so, no degree of
success can be expected from the thirteen steps which follow.
THE SATANIC RITUAL
B. THE THIRTEEN STEPS
(See Devices Used in a Satanic Ritual by clicking here for detailed
instructions.)
Dress for ritual. Assemble devices for ritual; light candles and shut out all
outside light sources; place parchments to right and left of the altar as
indicated. If a woman is used as the altar she now takes her position - head
pointing south, feet pointing north. Purification of the air by ringing of the
bell. "Invocation to Satan" and "Infernal Names" which follow (see Book of
Leviathan) are now read aloud by priest. Participants will repeat each Infernal
Name after it has been said by priest. Drink from chalice. Turning
counter-clockwise, the priest points with the sword to each cardinal point of
the compass and calls forth the respective Princes of Hell: Satan from the
south, Lucifer from the east, Belial from the north, and Leviathan from the
west. Perform benediction with the phallus (if one is used). Priest reads
aloud appropriate invocation for respective ceremony: Lust, Compassion, or
Destruction (see Book of Leviathan). In the case of a personalized ritual this
step is extremely important. Solitude is compatible with the expressing of the
most secret desires, and no attempt to "hold back" should be made in the acting
out, verbalizing, or casting of images pertaining to your desires. It is at this
step that your "blueprint" is drawn, wrapped, and sent off to the recipient of
your working.
(A)
To Summon One For Lustful Purpose Or Establish A Sexually Gratifying Situation
Leave the area of the altar and remove yourself to that place, either in the
same room or without, that will be most conducive to the working of the
respective ritual. Then, fashion whatever imagery you possibly can that will
parallel in as exact a way possible the situation towards which you strive.
Remember, you have five senses to utilize, so do not feel you must limit your
imagery to one. Here are devices that may be employed (either alone, or in any
combination):
graphic imagery such as drawings, paintings, etc. written imagery such as
stories, plays, descriptions of desires and eventual outcome of same. acting
out the desire in tableau or playet, either as yourself or portraying the role
of the object of your desire (transference), using any devices necessary to
intensify imagery. any odors relative to the desired person or situation. any
sounds or background noises conducive to a strong image. Intense sexual feeling
should accompany this step of the ritual, and after sufficient imagery is
obtained, as strong an orgasm as is possible should serve as climax to this
step. This climax should be attained using any masturbatory or auto-erotic means
necessary. After orgasm is obtained, return to the location of the altar and
proceed with step #11.
(B)
To Insure Help Or Success For One Who Has Your Sympathy Or Compassion (Including
Yourself) Remain in close proximity of the altar and with as vivid a mental
image as possible of the person you wish to help (or intense self-pity), state
your desire in your own terms. Should your emotions be genuine enough, they will
be accompanied the shedding of tears, which should be allowed to flow without
restraint. After this exercise in sentiment is completed, proceed to step #11.
(C)
To Cause The Destruction Of An Enemy Remain in the area of the altar unless
imagery is more easily obtained in another spot, such as in the vicinity of the
victim. Producing the image of the victim, proceed to inflict the destruction
upon the effigy in the manner of your choice. This can be done in the following
ways:
the sticking of pins or nails into a doll representing your victim; the doll may
be cloth, wax, wood, vegetable matter, etc. the creation of graphic imagery
depicting the method of your victim's destruction; drawings, paintings, etc.
the creation of a vivid literary description of your victim's ultimate end. a
detailed soliloquy directed at the intended victim, describing his torments and
annihilation. mutilation, injury, infliction of pain or illness by proxy using
any other means or devices desired. Intense, calculated hatred and disdain
should accompany this step of the ceremony, and no attempt should be made to
stop this step until the expended energy results in a state of relative
exhaustion on the part of the magician. When the exhastion ensues, proceed to
step #11.
(a) If requests are written, they are now read aloud by the priest and then
burned in the flames of the appropriate candle. "Shemhamforash!" and "Hail
Satan!" is said after each request. (b) If requests are given verbally,
participants (one at a time) now tell them to the priest. He then repeats in his
own words (those which are most emotionally stimulating to him) the request.
"Shemhamforash!" and "Hail Satan!" is said after each request. Appropriate
Enochian Key is now read by the priest, as evidence of the participants'
allegiance to the Powers of Darkness. Ringing of the bell as pollutionary, and
then the words "SO IT IS DONE" are spoken by the priest. END OF RITUAL.
THE SATANIC RITUAL
C. DEVICES USED IN A SATANIC RITUAL
CLOTHING
Black robes are worn by the male participants. The robes may be cowled or
hooded, and if desired may cover the face. The purpose in covering the face is
to allow the participant freedom to express emotion in the face, without
concern. It also lessens distraction on the part of one participant towards
another. Female participants wear garments which are sexually suggestive; or all
black clothing for older women. Amulets bearing the sigil of Baphomet or the
traditional pentagram of Satan are worn by all participants.
Robes are donned by men before entering the ritual chamber, and are worn
throughout the ritual. Men may substitute all black clothing for black robes.
Black is chosen for the attire in the ritual chamber because it is symbolic of
the Powers of Darkness. Sexually appealing clothing is worn by women for the
purpose of stimulating the emotions of the male participants, and thereby
intensifying the outpouring of adrenal or bio-electrical energy which will
insure a more powerful working.
ALTAR
Man's earliest altars were living flesh and blood; and man's natural instincts
and predilictions were the foundation on which his religions were based. Later
religions, in making man's natural inclinations sinful, perverted his living
altars into slabs of stone and lumps of metal.
Satanism is a religion of the flesh, rather than of the spirit; therefore, an
altar of flesh is used in Satanic ceremonies. The purpose of an altar is to
serve as a focal point towards which all attention is focused during a ceremony.
A nude woman is used as the altar in Satanic rituals because woman is the
natural passive receptor, and represents the earth mother.
In some rituals nudity for the woman serving as altar may be impractical, so she
may be clothed or partially covered. If a female is performing the ritual alone,
no woman need be used for the altar. If no female is used for the altar, the
elevated plane used for her to lie upon may be used to hold other devices for
the ritual. For large group rituals a trapezoidal altar about 3 to 4 feet high
and 5½ to 6 feet long can be specially constructed for the woman to lie upon. If
this is impractical, or in private ceremonies, any elevated plane may be used.
If a woman is used for the altar, the other devices may be placed upon a table
within easy reach of the priest.
SYMBOL OF BAPHOMET
The symbol of Baphomet was used by the Knights Templar to represent Satan.
Through the ages this symbol has been called by many different names. Among
these are: The Goat of Mendes, The Goat of a Thousand Young, The Black Goat, The
Judas Goat, and perhaps the most appropriately, The Scapegoat.
Baphomet represents the Powers of Darkness combined with the generative
fertility of the goat. In its "pure" form the pentagram is shown encompassing
the figure of a man in the five points of the star - three points up, two
pointing down - symbolizing man's spiritual nature. In Satanism the pentagram is
also used, but since Satanism represents the carnal instincts of man, or the
opposite of spiritual nature, the pentagram is inverted to perfectly accomodate
the head of the goat - its horns, representing duality, thrust upwards in
defiance; the other three points inverted, or the trinity denied. The Hebraic
figures around the outer circle of the symbol which stem from the magical
teachings of the Kabala, spell out "Leviathan", the serpent of the watery abyss,
and identified with Satan. These figures correspond to the five points of the
inverted star.
The symbol of Baphomet is placed on the wall above the altar.
CANDLES
The candles used in Satanic ritual represent the light of Lucifer - the bearer
of light, enlightenment, the living flame, burning desire, and the Flames of the
Pit.
Only black and white candles are to be used in Satanic ritual. Never use more
than one white candle; but as many black candles as are required to illuminate
the ritual chamber may be used. At least one black candle is placed to the left
of the altar, representing the Powers of Darkness and the left-hand path. Other
black candles are placed where needed for illumination. One white candle is
placed to the right of the altar, representing the hypocrisy of white light
"magicians" and the followers of the right-hand path. No other light source is
to be used.
Black candles are used for power and success for the participants of the ritual,
and are used to consume the parchments on which blessings requested by the
ritual participants are written. The white candle is used for destruction of
enemies. Parchments upon which curses are written are burned in the flame of the
white candle.
BELL
The shattering effect of the bell is used to mark both the beginning and the end
of the ritual. The priest rings the bell nine times, turning counter clockwise
and directing the tolling towards the four cardinal points of the compass. This
is done once at the beginning of the ritual to clear and purify the air of all
external sounds, and once again at the end of the ritual to intensify the
working and act as a pollutionary indicating finality.
The tonal quality of the bell used should be loud and penetrating, rather than
soft and tinkling.
CHALICE
In Satanic ritual the chalice or goblet used represents the Chalice of Ecstasy.
Ideally, the chalice should be made of silver, but if a silver chalice can not
be obtained, one made from another metal, glass, or crockery may be used -
anything but gold. Gold has always been associated with white-light religions
and the Heavenly Realm.
The chalice is to be drunk from first by the priest, then by one assistant. In
private rituals the person performing the ceremony drains the chalice.
ELIXIR
The stimulating fluid or Elixir of Life used by the Pagans has been corrupted
into sacramental wine by the Christian faith. Originally, the liquor used in
Pagan rituals was drunk to relax and intensify the emotions of those involved in
the ceremony. Satanism does not sacrifice its god, as do other religions. The
Satanist practices no such form of symbolic cannibalism, and returns the
sacramental wine used by the Christians to its original purpose - that of
stimulating the emotions necessary to Satanic ritual. Wine itself need not be
used - whatever drink is most stimulating and pleasing to the palate is in
order.
The Elixir of Life is to be drunk from the Chalice of Ecstasy, as indicated
above, immediately following the Invocation to Satan.
SWORD
The Sword of Power is symbolic of aggressive force, and acts as an extension and
intensifier of the arm with which the priest uses to gesture and point. A
parallel to this is the pointing stick or blasting wand used in other forms of
magical ritual.
The sword is held by the priest and is used to point towards the symbol of
Baphomet during the Invocation to Satan. It is also used, as indicated in Steps
of Ritual, when calling forth the four Princes of Hell. The priest thrusts the
point of the sword through the parchment containing the message or request after
it has been read aloud; it is then used to hold the parchment while introduced
into the candle flame. While hearing the requests of other participants, and
while repeating same, the priest places the sword atop their heads (in
traditional "knighting" fashion).
For private rituals, if a sword cannot be obtained, a long knife, cane, or
similar staff may be used.
PHALLUS
The phallus is a Pagan fertility symbol which represents generation, virility,
and aggresion. This is yet another device which has been blasphemously converted
to fit the guild-ridden ceremonies of Christianity. The phallus is a
non-hypocritical version of the aspergillim, or "holy water sprinkler" used in
Catholicism - quite a metamorphosis of the common penis!
The phallus is held in both hands of one of the priest's assistants, and
methodically shaken twice towards each cardinal point of the compass, for the
benediction of the house.
Any phallic symbol may be used. If none is obtainable one may be made from
plaster, wood, clay, wax, etc. The phallus is necessary only in organized group
rituals.
GONG
The gong is used to call upon the forces of Darkness. It is to be struck once
after the participants have repeated the priest's words, "Hail Satan!". A gong
is necessary only in organized group rituals. For the best tonal quality a
concert gong is preferred, but if one cannot be obtained any gong with a full,
rich tone may be used.
PARCHMENT
Parchment is used because its organic properties are compatible with the
elements of nature. In keeping with the Satanic views on sacrifice, the
parchment used would be made from the skin of a sheep which was, by necessity,
killed for food. An animal is never slaughtered for the purpose of using all or
a part of that animal in a Satanic ritual. If commerical parchment which has
been made from already slaughtered sheep cannot be obtained, plain paper may be
substituted.
The parchment is the means by which the written message or request can be
consumed by the candle flame and sent out into the ether. The request is written
on parchment or paper, read aloud by the priest, and then burned in the flame of
either the black or white candle - whichever is appropriate for the particular
request. Before the ritual begins curses are placed to the right of the priest,
and charms or blessings are placed to the left of him.
(WATER)
THE BOOK OF LEVIATHAN
THE RAGING SEA
Despite all non-verbalists' protests to the contrary, soaring
heights of emotional ecstasy or raging pangs of anguish can be attained through
verbal communication. If the magical ceremony is to employ all sensory
awarenesses, then the proper sounds must be invoked. It is certainly true that
"actons speak louder than words", but words become as monuments to thoughts.
Perhaps the most noticeable shortcoming in the printed magical conjurations of
the past is the lack of emotion developed upon the reciting of them. An old
wizard known to the author, who was once employing a self-composed invocation of
great personal meaning in the light of his magical desires, ran out of words
just as his ritual was moments short of its successful culmination. Aware of the
necessity of keeping his emotional response generating, he quickly adlibbed the
first emotion-provoking words that came to mind - a few stanzas of a poem by
Rudyard Kipling! Thus, with this final burst of glory-charged adrenalin, was he
able to finalize an effective working!
The invocations which follow are designed to serve as proclamations of
certainty, not whining apprehension. For this reason they are devoid of shallow
offerings-up and hollow charities. Leviathan, the great Dragon from the Watery
Abyss, roars forth as the surging sea, and these invocations are his tribunals.
INVOCATION TO SATAN
In nomine Dei nostri Satanas Luciferi excelsi!
In the name of Satan, the Ruler of the earth, the King of the world, I command
the forces of Darkness to bestow their Infernal power upon me!
Open wide the gates of Hell and come forth from the abyss to greet me as your
brother (sister) and friend!
Grant me the indulgences of which I speak!
I have taken thy name as a part of myself! I live as the beasts of the field,
rejoicing in the fleshly life! I favor the just and curse the rotten!
By all the Gods of the Pit, I command that these things of which I speak shall
come to pass!
Come forth and answer to your names by manifesting my desires!
OH HEAR THE NAMES:
THE INFERNAL NAMES
The Infernal names are listed here in alphabetical order purely to simplify
referral to them.
When calling the names, all of them may be recited, or a given number of those
most significant to the respective working may be chosen.
Whether all or only some of the names are called, they must be taken out of the
rigidly organized form in which they are listed here and arranged in a
phonetically effective roster.
Abaddon Euronymous O-Yama Adramelech Fenriz Pan
Ahpuch Gorgo Pluto Ahriman Haborym Proserpine Amon
Hecate Pwcca Apollyn Ishtar Rimmon Asmodeus Kali
Sabazios Astaroth Lilith Sammael Azazel Loki
Samnu Baalberith Mammon Sedit Balaam Mania
Sekhmet Baphomet Mantus Set Bast Marduk
Shaitan Beelzebub Mastema Shamad Behemoth Melek Taus
Shiva Beherit Mephistopheles Supay Bilé Metztli T'an-mo
Chemosh Mictian Tchort Cimeries Midgard
Tezcatlipoca Coyote Milcom Thamuz Dagon Moloch
Thoth Damballa Mormo Tunrida Demogorgon Naamah
Typhon Diabolus Nergal Yaotzin Dracula Nihasa
Yen-lo-Wang Emma-O Nija
INVOCATION EMPLOYED TOWARDS THE CONJURATION OF LUST
COME forth, Oh great
spawn of the abyss and make thy presence manifest. I have set my thoughts upon
the blazing pinnacle which glows with the chosen lust of the moments of increase
and grows fervent in the turgid swell.
Send forth that messenger of voluptuous delights, and let these obscene vistas
of my dark desires take form in future deeds and doings.
From the sixth tower of Satan there shall come a sign which joineth with those
saltes within, and as such will move the body of the flesh of my summoning.
I have gathered forth my symbols and prepare my garnishings of the is to be, and
the image of my creation lurketh as a seething basilisk awaiting his release.
The vision shall become as reality and through the nourishment that my sacrifice
giveth, the angles of the first dimension shall become the substance of the
third.
Go out into the void of night (light of day) and pierce that mind that
respondeth with thoughts which leadeth to paths of lewd abandon.
(Male) My rod is athrust! The penetrating force of my venom shall shatter the
sanctity of that mind which is barren of lust; and as the seed falleth, so shall
its vapours be spread within that reeling brain benumbing it to helplessness
according to my will! In the name of the great god Pan, may my secret thoughts
be marshalled into the movements of the flesh of that which I desire!
Shemhamforash! Hail Satan!
(Female) My loins are aflame! The dripping of the nectar from my eager cleft
shall act as pollen to that slumbering brain, and the mind that feels not lust
shall on a sudden reel with crazed impulse. And when my mighty surge is spent,
new wanderings shall begin; and that flesh which I desire shall come to me. In
the names of the great harlot of Babylon, and of Lilith, and of Hecate, may my
lust be fulfilled!
Shemhamforash! Hail Satan!
INVOCATION EMPLOYED TOWARDS THE CONJURATION OF DESTRUCTION
BEHOLD! The mighty voices of my vengeance smash the stillness of
the air and stand as monoliths of wrath upon a plain of writhing serpents. I am
become as a monstrous machine of annihilation to the festering fragments of the
body of he (she) who would detain me.
It repenteth me not that my summons doth ride upon the blasting winds which
multiply the sting of my bitterness; And great black slimy shapes shall rise
from brackish pits and vomit forth their pustulence into his (her) puny brain.
I call upon the messengers of doom to slash with grim delight this victim I hath
chosen. Silent is that voiceless bird that feeds upon the brain-pulp of him
(her) who hath tormented me, and the agony of the is to be shall sustain itself
in shrieks of pain, only to serve as signals of warning to those who would
resent my being.
Oh come forth in the name of Abaddon and destroy him (her) whose name I giveth
as a sign.
Oh great brothers of the night, thou who makest my place of comfort, who rideth
out upon the hot winds of Hell, who dwelleth in the devil's fane; Move and
appear! Present yourselves to him (her) who sustaineth the rottenness of the
mind that moves the gibbering mouth that mocks the just and strong!; rend that
gaggling tongue and close his (her) throat, Oh Kali! Pierce his (her) lungs with
the stings of scorpions, Oh Sekhmet! Plunge his (her) substance into the dismal
void, Oh mighty Dagon!
I thrust aloft the bifid barb of Hell and on its tines resplendently impaled my
sacrifice through vengeance rests!
Shemhamforash! Hail Satan!
INVOCATION EMPLOYED TOWARDS THE CONJURATION OF
COMPASSION
WITH the anger of anguish and the wrath of the stifled, I pour
forth my voices, wrapped in rolling thunder, that you may hear!
Oh great lurkers in the darkness, oh guardians of the way, oh minions of the
might of Thoth! Move and appear! Present yourselves to us in your benign power,
in behalf of one who believes and is stricken with torment.
Isolate him (her) in the bulwark of your protection, for he (she) is undeserving
of anguish and desires it not.
Let that which bears against him (her) be rendered powerless and devoid of
substance.
Succor him (her) through fire and water, earth and air, to regain what he (she)
has lost.
Strengthen with fire the marrow of our friend and companion, our comrade of the
Left-Hand Path.
Through the power of Satan let the earth and its pleasures re-enter his (her)
being.
Allow his (her) vital saltes to flow unhampered, that he (she) may savor the
carnal nectars of his (her) future desires.
Strike dumb his (her) adversary, formed or formless, that he (she) may emerge
joyful and strong from that which afflicts him (her).
Allow no misfortune to allay his (her) path, for he (she) is of us, and
therefore to be cherished.
Restore him (her) to power, to joy, to unending dominion over the reverses that
have beset him (her).
Build around and within him (her) the exultant radiance that will herald his
(her) emergence from the stagnant morass which engulfs him (her).
This we command, in the name of Satan, whose mercies flourish and whose
sustenance will prevail!
As Satan reigns so shall his (her) own whose name is as this sound: (name) is
the vessel whose flesh is as the earth; life everlasting, world without end!
Shemhamforash! Hail Satan!
INVOCATION EMPLOYED TOWARDS THE CONJURATION OF
COMPASSION
WITH the anger of anguish and the wrath of the stifled, I pour
forth my voices, wrapped in rolling thunder, that you may hear!
Oh great lurkers in the darkness, oh guardians of the way, oh minions of the
might of Thoth! Move and appear! Present yourselves to us in your benign power,
in behalf of one who believes and is stricken with torment.
Isolate him (her) in the bulwark of your protection, for he (she) is undeserving
of anguish and desires it not.
Let that which bears against him (her) be rendered powerless and devoid of
substance.
Succor him (her) through fire and water, earth and air, to regain what he (she)
has lost.
Strengthen with fire the marrow of our friend and companion, our comrade of the
Left-Hand Path.
Through the power of Satan let the earth and its pleasures re-enter his (her)
being.
Allow his (her) vital saltes to flow unhampered, that he (she) may savor the
carnal nectars of his (her) future desires.
Strike dumb his (her) adversary, formed or formless, that he (she) may emerge
joyful and strong from that which afflicts him (her).
Allow no misfortune to allay his (her) path, for he (she) is of us, and
therefore to be cherished.
Restore him (her) to power, to joy, to unending dominion over the reverses that
have beset him (her).
Build around and within him (her) the exultant radiance that will herald his
(her) emergence from the stagnant morass which engulfs him (her).
This we command, in the name of Satan, whose mercies flourish and whose
sustenance will prevail!
As Satan reigns so shall his (her) own whose name is as this sound: (name) is
the vessel whose flesh is as the earth; life everlasting, world without end!
Shemhamforash! Hail Satan!
INVOCATION EMPLOYED TOWARDS THE CONJURATION OF
COMPASSION
WITH the anger of anguish and the wrath of the stifled, I pour
forth my voices, wrapped in rolling thunder, that you may hear!
Oh great lurkers in the darkness, oh guardians of the way, oh minions of the
might of Thoth! Move and appear! Present yourselves to us in your benign power,
in behalf of one who believes and is stricken with torment.
Isolate him (her) in the bulwark of your protection, for he (she) is undeserving
of anguish and desires it not.
Let that which bears against him (her) be rendered powerless and devoid of
substance.
Succor him (her) through fire and water, earth and air, to regain what he (she)
has lost.
Strengthen with fire the marrow of our friend and companion, our comrade of the
Left-Hand Path.
Through the power of Satan let the earth and its pleasures re-enter his (her)
being.
Allow his (her) vital saltes to flow unhampered, that he (she) may savor the
carnal nectars of his (her) future desires.
Strike dumb his (her) adversary, formed or formless, that he (she) may emerge
joyful and strong from that which afflicts him (her).
Allow no misfortune to allay his (her) path, for he (she) is of us, and
therefore to be cherished.
Restore him (her) to power, to joy, to unending dominion over the reverses that
have beset him (her).
Build around and within him (her) the exultant radiance that will herald his
(her) emergence from the stagnant morass which engulfs him (her).
This we command, in the name of Satan, whose mercies flourish and whose
sustenance will prevail!
As Satan reigns so shall his (her) own whose name is as this sound: (name) is
the vessel whose flesh is as the earth; life everlasting, world without end!
Shemhamforash! Hail Satan!
INVOCATION EMPLOYED TOWARDS THE CONJURATION OF
COMPASSION
WITH the anger of anguish and the wrath of the stifled, I pour
forth my voices, wrapped in rolling thunder, that you may hear!
Oh great lurkers in the darkness, oh guardians of the way, oh minions of the
might of Thoth! Move and appear! Present yourselves to us in your benign power,
in behalf of one who believes and is stricken with torment.
Isolate him (her) in the bulwark of your protection, for he (she) is undeserving
of anguish and desires it not.
Let that which bears against him (her) be rendered powerless and devoid of
substance.
Succor him (her) through fire and water, earth and air, to regain what he (she)
has lost.
Strengthen with fire the marrow of our friend and companion, our comrade of the
Left-Hand Path.
Through the power of Satan let the earth and its pleasures re-enter his (her)
being.
Allow his (her) vital saltes to flow unhampered, that he (she) may savor the
carnal nectars of his (her) future desires.
Strike dumb his (her) adversary, formed or formless, that he (she) may emerge
joyful and strong from that which afflicts him (her).
Allow no misfortune to allay his (her) path, for he (she) is of us, and
therefore to be cherished.
Restore him (her) to power, to joy, to unending dominion over the reverses that
have beset him (her).
Build around and within him (her) the exultant radiance that will herald his
(her) emergence from the stagnant morass which engulfs him (her).
This we command, in the name of Satan, whose mercies flourish and whose
sustenance will prevail!
As Satan reigns so shall his (her) own whose name is as this sound: (name) is
the vessel whose flesh is as the earth; life everlasting, world without end!
Shemhamforash! Hail Satan!
THE ENOCHIAN LANGUAGE AND THE ENOCHIAN KEYS
THE magical language used in Satanic ritual is Enochian, a language thought to
be older than Sanskrit, with a sound grammatical and syntactical bases. It
resembles Arabic in some sounds and Hebrew and Latin in others. It first
appeared in print in 1659 in a biography of John Dee, the famous Sixteenth
Century seer and court astrologer. This work, by Meric Casaubon, describes the
occultist Dee's activities with his associate, Edward Kelly, in the art of
scrying or crystal gazing.
Instead of the usual crystal ball, Kelly, who was the gazer, used a many-faceted
trapezohedron. The "angels" referred to in Kelly's first revelation of the
Enochian Keys, obtained through the windows of the crystal, are only "angels"
because occultists to this day have lain ill with metaphysical constipation. Now
the crystal clears, and the "angels" are seen as "angles" and the windows to the
fourth dimension are thrown open - and to the frightened, the Gates of Hell.
I have presented my translation of the following calls with an archaic but
Satanically correct unvarnishing of the translation employed by the Order of the
Golden Dawn in the late Nineteenth Century. In Enochian the meaning of the
words, combined with the quality of the words, unite to create a pattern of
sound which can cause tremendous reaction in the atmosphere. The barbaric tonal
qualities of this language give it a truly magical effect which cannot be
described.
For many years the Enochian Keys, or Calls, have been shrouded in secrecy. The
few printings that have existed completely eliminate the correct wording, as the
proper translation has been disguised through the use of euphemisms, and only
designed to throw the inept magician and/or would-be inquisitor off the track.
Apocryphal as they have become (and who can tell what grim reality provokes the
"fantasy"), the Enochian Calls are the Satanic paeans of faith. Dispensing with
such once-pragmatic whitewashing in terms such as "holy" and "angelic", and
arbitrarily chosen groups of numbers, the purpose of which were only to act as
substitutes for "blasphemous" words - here, then, are the TRUE Enochian Calls,
as received from an unknown hand.*
THE FIRST KEY
The first Enochian Keyrepresents an initial proclamation from Satan, stating the inception of the laws
of temporal theologies and of the lasting power which resides in those bold
enough to recognize earthly beginnings and absolutes.
(Enochian)
Ol sonuf vaoresaji, gohu IAD Balata, elanusaha caelazod: sobrazod-ol Roray i ta
nazodapesad, od comemahe ta nobeloha zodien; soba tahil ginonupe pereje aladi,
das vaurebes obolehe giresam. Casarem ohorela caba Pire: das zodonurenusagi cab:
erem Iadanahe. Pilahe farezodem zodenurezoda adana gono Iadapiel das home-tohe:
soba ipame lu ipamis: das sobolo vepe zodomeda poamal, od bogira aai ta piape
Piamoel od Vaoan! Zodacare, eca, od zodameranu! odo cicale Qaa; zodoreje, lape
zodiredo Noco Mada, hoathahe Saitan!
(English)
I reign over thee, saith the Lord of the Earth, in power exalted above and
below, in whose hands the sun is a glittering sword and the moon a
through-thrusting fire, who measureth your garments in the midst of my vestures,
and trusseth you up as the palms of my hands, and brighten your vestments with
Infernal light.
I made ye a law to govern the holy ones, and delivered a rod with wisdom
supreme. You lifted your voices and swore your allegiance to Him that liveth
triumphant, whose beginning is not, nor end cannot be, which shineth as a flame
in the midst of your palaces, and reigneth amongst you as the balance of life!
Move therefore, and appear! Open the mysteries of your creation! Be friendly
unto me, for I am the same! - the true worshipper of the highest and ineffable
King of Hell!
THE SECOND KEY
In order to pay homage to the very lusts which sustain the
continuance of life, itself, The Second Enochian Key extends this recognition of
our earthly heritage unto a talisman of power.
(Enochian)
Adagita vau-pa-ahe zodonugonu fa-a-ipe salada! Vi-i-vau el! Sobame ial-pereji
i-zoda-zodazod pi-adapehe casarema aberameji ta ta-labo paracaleda qo-ta
lores-el-qo turebesa ooge balatohe! Giui cahisa lusada oreri od micalapape
cahisa bia ozodonugonu! lape noanu tarofe coresa tage o-quo maninu IA-I-DON.
Torezodu! gohe-el, zodacare eca ca-no-quoda! zodameranu micalazodo od
ozadazodame vaurelar; lape zodir IOIAD!
(English)
Can the wings of the winds hear your voices of wonder?; O you!, the great spawn
of the worms of the Earth!, whom the Hell fire frames in the depth of my jaws!,
whom I have prepared as cups for a wedding or as flowers regaling the chambers
of lust!
Stronger are your feet than the barren stone! Mightier are your voices than the
manifold winds! For you are become as a building such as is not, save in the
mind of the All-Powerful manifestation of Satan!
Arise!, saith the First! Move therefore unto his servants! Show yourselves in
power, and make me a strong seer-of-things, for I am of Him that liveth forever!
THE THIRD KEY
The Third Enochian Key establishes the leadership of the earth
upon the hands of those great Satanic magicians who throughout the successive
ages have held dominion over the peoples of the world.
(Enochian)
Micama! goho Pe-IAD! zodir com-selahe azodien biabe os-lon-dohe. Norezodacahisa
otahila Gigipahe; vaunid-el-cahisa ta-pu-ime qo-mos-pelehe telocahe; qui-i-inu
toltoregi cahisa i cahisaji em ozodien; dasata beregida od torezodul! Ili e-Ol
balazodareji, od aala tahilanu-os netaabe: daluga vaomesareji elonusa
cape-mi-ali varoesa cala homila; cocasabe fafenu izodizodope, od miinoagi de
ginetaabe: vaunu na-na-e-el: panupire malapireji caosaji. Pilada noanu vaunalahe
balata od-vaoan. Do-o-i-ape mada: goholore, gohus, amiranu! Micama! Yehusozod
ca-ca-com, od do-o-a-inu noari micaolazoda a-ai-om. Casarameji gohia: Zodacare!
Vaunigilaji! od im-ua-mar pugo pelapeli Ananael Qo-a-an.
(English)
Behold!, saith Satan, I am a circle on whose hands stand the Twelve Kingdoms.
Six are the seats of living breath, the rest are as sharp as sickles, or the
Horns of Death. Therein the creatures of Earth are and are not, except in mine
own hands which sleep and shall rise!
In the first I made ye stewards and placed ye in the Twelve seats of government,
giving unto every one of you power successively over the Nine true ages of time,
so that from the highest vessels and the corners of your governments you might
work my power, pouring down the fires of life and increase continually on the
Earth. Thus you are become the skirts of justice and truth. In Satan's name,
rise up! Show yourselves! Behold!, his mercies flourish, and his name is become
mighty among us. In whom we say: Move!, Ascend!, and apply yourselves unto us as
the partakers of His secret wisdom in your creation!
THE FOURTH KEY
The Fourth Enochian Key refers to the cycling of the ages of
time.
(Enochian)
Otahil elasadi babaje, od dorepaha gohol: gi-cahisaje auauago coremepe peda,
dasonuf vi-vau-di-vau? Casaremi oeli meapeme sobame agi coremepo carep-el:
casaremeji caro-o-dazodi cahisa od vaugeji; dasata ca-pi-mali cahisa
ca-pi-ma-on: od elonusahinu cahisa ta el-o calaa. Torezodu nor-quasahi od
fe-caosaga: Bagile zodir e-na-IAD: das iod apila! Do-o-a-ipe quo-A-AL, zodacare!
Zodameranu obelisonugi resat-el aaf nor-mo-lapi!
(English)
I have set my feet in the South, and have looked about me, saying: Are not the
thunders of increase those which reign in the second angle?
Under whom I have placed those whom none hath yet numbered, but One; in whom the
second beginnings of things are and wax strong, successively adding the numbers
of time, and their powers doth stand as the first of the nine!
Arise!, you sons of pleasure, and visit the Earth; for I am the Lord, your God,
which is and liveth forever!
In the name of Satan, Move!, and show yourselves as pleasant deliverers, that
you may praise Him among the sons of men!
THE FIFTH KEY
The Fifth Enochian Key affirms the Satanic placing of traditional
priests and wizards upon the earth for the purpose of misdirection.
(Enochian)
Sapahe zodimii du-i-be, od noasa ta qu-a-nis, adarocahe dorepehal caosagi od
faonutas peripesol ta-be-liore. Casareme A-me-ipezodi na-zodaretahe afa; od
dalugare zodizodope zodelida caosaji tol-toregi; od zod-cahisa esiasacahe El
ta-vi-vau; od iao-d tahilada das hubare pe-o-al; soba coremefa cahisa ta Ela
Vaulasa od Quo-Co-Casabe. Eca niisa od darebesa quo-a-asa: fetahe-ar-ezodi od
beliora: ia-ial eda-nasa cicalesa; bagile Ge-iad I-el!
(English)
The mighty sounds have entered into the third angle and are become as seedlings
of folly, smiling with contempt upon the Earth, and dwelling in the brightness
of the Heaven as continual comforters to the destroyers of self.
Unto whom I fastened the pillars of gladness, the lords of the righteous, and
gave them vessels to water the earth with her creatures. They are the brothers
of the First and the Second, and the beginning of their own seats which are
garnished with myriad ever-burning lamps, whose numbers are as the First, the
ends, and the contents of time!
Therefore, come ye and obey your creation. Visit us in peace and comfort.
Conclude us receivers of your mysteries; for why? Our Lord and Master is the
All-One!
THE SIXTH KEY
The Sixth Enochian Key establishes the structure and form of that
which has become the Order of the Trapezoid and Church of Satan.
(Enochian)
Gahe sa-div cahisa em, micalazoda Pil-zodinu, sobam El haraji mir babalonu od
obeloce samevelaji, dalagare malapereji ar-caosaji od acame canale, sobola
zodare fa-beliareda caosaji od cahisa aneta-na miame ta Viv od Da. Daresare
Sol-petahe-bienu. Be-ri-ta od zodacame ji-mi-calazodo: sob-ha-atahe tarianu
luia-he od ecarinu MADA Qu-a-a-on!
(English)
The spirits of the fourth angle are Nine, mighty in the trapezoid, whom the
first hath formed, a torment to the wretched and a garland to the wicked; giving
unto them fiery darts to vanne the earth, and Nine continual workmen whose
courses visit with comfort the Earth, and are in government and continuance as
the Second and Third.
Therefore, harken unto my voice! I have talked of you, and I move you in power
and presence, whose works shall be a song of honor, and the praise of your God
in your creation!
THE SEVENTH KEY
The Seventh Enochian Key is used to invoke lust, pay homage to
glamor, and rejoice in the delights of the flesh.
(Enochian)
Ra-asa isalamanu para-di-zoda oe-cari-mi aao iala-pire-gahe Qui-inu. Enai
butamonu od inoasa ni pa-ra-diala. Casaremeji ujeare cahirelanu, od zodonace
lucifatianu, caresa ta vavale-zodirenu tol-hami. Soba lonudohe od nuame cahisa
ta Da o Desa vo-me-dea od pi-beliare itahila rita od miame ca-ni-quola rita!
Zodacare! Zodameranu! Iecarimi Quo-a-dahe od I-mica-ol-zododa aaiome. Bajirele
papenore idalugama elonusahi-od umapelifa vau-ge-ji Bijil - IAD!
(English)
The East is a house of harlots singing praises among the flames of the first
glory wherein the Dark Lord hath opened His mouth; and they are become as living
dwellings in whom the strength of man rejoiceth; and they are appareled with
ornaments of brightness, such as work wonders on all creatures. Whose kingdoms
and continuance are as the Third and Fourth, strong towers and places of
comfort, the seats of pleasure and continuance. O ye servants of pleasure,
Move!, Appear!, sing praises unto the Earth and be mighty amongst us. For that
to this remembrance is given power, and our strength waxeth strong in our
comforter.
THE EIGHTH KEY
The Eighth Enochian Key refers to the emergence of the Satanic
Age.
(Enochian)
Bazodemelo i ta pi-ripesonu olanu Na-zodavabebe ox. Casaremeji varanu cahisa
vaugeji asa berameji balatoha: goho IAD. Soba miame tarianu ta lolacis
Abaivoninu od azodiajiere riore. Irejila cahisa da das pa-aox busada Caosago,
das cahisa od ipuranu telocahe cacureji o-isalamahe lonucaho od Vovina carebafe?
NIISO! bagile avavago gohon. NIISO! bagile mamao siasionu, od mabezoda IAD oi
asa-momare poilape. NIIASA! Zodameranu ciaosi caosago od belioresa od coresi ta
beramiji.
(English)
The midday of the first is as the third indulgence made of hyacinthine pillars,
in whom the elders are become strong, which I have prepared for mine own
justice, saith Satan, whose long continuance shall be as bucklers to Leviathan.
How many are there which remain in the glory of the earth, which are, and shall
not see death until the house falls and the dragon doth sink? Rejoice!, for the
crowns of the temple and the robe of Him that is, was, and shall be crowned are
no longer divided! Come forth!, Appear!, to the terror of the Earth, and to the
comfort of such as are prepared!
THE NINTH KEY
The Ninth Enochian Key warns of the use of substances, devices or
pharmaceuticals which might lead to the delusion and subsequent enslavement of
the master. A protection against false values.
(Enochian)
Micaoli beranusaji perejela napeta ialapore, das barinu efafaje Pe vaunupeho
olani od obezoda, soba-ca upaahe cahisa tatanu od tarananu balie, alare busada
so-bolunu od cahisa hoel-qo ca-no-quodi cial. Vaunesa aladonu mom caosago ta
iasa olalore gianai limelala. Amema cahisa sobra madarida zod cahisa! Ooa moanu
cahisa avini darilapi caosajinu: od butamoni pareme zodumebi canilu. Dazodisa
etahamezoda cahisa dao, od mireka ozodola cahisa pidiai Colalala. Ul ci ninu a
sobame ucime. Bajile? IAD BALATOHE cahirelanu pare! NIISO! od upe ofafafe;
bajile a-cocasahe icoresaka a uniji beliore.
(English)
A mighty guard of fire with two-edged swords flaming (which contain the vials of
delusion, whose wings are of wormwood and of the marrow of salt), have set their
feet in the West, and are measured with their ministers. These gather up the
moss of the Earth, as the rich man doth his treasure. Cursed are they whose
iniquities they are! In their eyes are millstones greater than the Earth, and
from their mouths run seas of blood. Their brains are covered with diamonds, and
upon their heads are marble stones. Happy is he on whom they frown not. For Why?
The Lord of Righteousness rejoiceth in them! Come away, and leave your vials,
for the time is such as requireth comfort!
THE TENTH KEY
The Tenth Enochian Key creates rampant wrath and produces
violence. Dangerous to employ unless one has learnt to safeguard his own
immunity; a random lightning bolt!
(Enochian)
Coraxo cahisa coremepe, od belanusa Lucala azodiazodore paebe Soba iisononu
cahisa uirequo ope copehanu od racalire maasi bajile caosagi; das yalaponu
dosiji od basajime; od ox ex dazodisa siatarisa od salaberoxa cynuxire faboanu.
Vaunala cahisa conusata das daox cocasa o Oanio yore vohima ol jizod-yazoda od
eoresa cocasaji pelosi molui das pajeipe, laraji same darolanu matorebe cocasaji
emena. El pataralaxa yolaci matabe nomiji mononusa olora jinayo anujelareda.
Ohyo! ohyo! noibe Ohyo! caosagonu! Bajile madarida i zodirope cahiso darisapa!
NIISO! caripe ipe nidali!
(English)
The thunders of wrath doth slumber in the North, in the likeness of an oak whose
branches are dung-filled nests of lamentation and weeping laid up for the Earth,
which burn night and day and vomit out the heads of scorpions and live sulphur
mingled with poison. These be the thunders that in an instant roar with a
hundred mighty earthquakes and a thousand as many surges, which rest not, nor
know any time here. One rock bringeth forth a thousand, even as the heart of man
doth his thoughts. Woe! Woe!, Yea!, woe be to the Earth, for her inquity is,
was, and shall be great. Come away! But not your mighty sounds!
THE ELEVENTH KEY
The Eleventh Enochian Key is used to herald the coming of the
dead and establish a sustenance beyond the grave. To bind to the earth. A
funerary call.
(Enochian)
Oxiayala holado, od zodirome O coraxo das zodiladare raasyo. Od vabezodire
cameliaxa od bahala: NIISO! salamanu telocahe! Casaremanu hoel-qo, od ti ta zod
cahisa soba coremefa i ga. NIISA! bagile aberameji nonuçape. Zodacare eca od
Zodameranu! odo cicale Qaa! Zodoreje, lape zodiredo Noco Mada, hoathahe Saitan!
(English)
The mighty throne growled and there were five thunders that flew into the East.
And the eagle spake and cried aloud: Come away from the house of death! And they
gathered themselves together and became those of whom it measured, and they are
the deathless ones who ride the whirlwinds. Come away! For I have prepared a
place for you. Move therefore, and show yourselves! Unveil the mysteries of your
creation. Be friendly unto me for I am your God, the true worshipper of the
flesh that liveth forever!
THE TWELFTH KEY
The Twelfth Enochian Key is used to vent one's displeasure
towards man's need for misery, and bring forth torment and conflict to the
harbingers of woe.
(Enochian)
Nonuci dasonuf Babaje od cahisa ob hubaio tibibipe? alalare ataraahe od ef!
Darix fafenu mianu ar Enayo ovof! Soba dooainu aai i VONUPEHE. Zodacare, gohusa,
od Zodameranu. Odo cicale Qaa! Zodoreje, lape zodiredo Noco Mada, hoathahe
Saitan!
(English)
O ye that range in the South and are the lanterns of sorrow, buckle your armor
and visit us! Bring forth the legions of the army of Hell, that the Lord of the
Abyss may be magnified, whose name amongst ye is Wrath! Move therefore, and
appear! Open the mysteries of your creation! Be friendly unto me, for I am the
same!, the true worshipper of the highest and ineffable King of Hell!
THE THIRTEENTH KEY
The Thirteenth Enochian Key is used to make the sterile
lustful and vex those who would deny the pleasures of sex.
(Enochian)
Napeai Babajehe das berinu vax ooaona larinuji vonupehe doalime: conisa olalogi
oresaha das cahisa afefa. Micama isaro Mada od Lonu-sahi-toxa, das ivaumeda aai
Jirosabe. Zodacare od Zodameranu. Odo cicale Qaa! Zodoreje, lape zodiredo Noco
Mada, hoathahe Saitan!
(English)
O ye swords of the South, which have eyes to stir up the wrath of sin, making
men drunken which are empty; Behold! the promise of Satan and His power, which
is called amongst ye a bitter sting! Move and appear! Unveil the mysteries of
your creation! For I am the servant of the same, your God, the true worshipper
of the highest and ineffable King of Hell!
THE FOURTEENTH KEY
The Fourteenth Enocian Key is a call for vengeance and the
manifestation of justice.
(Enochian)
Noroni bajihie pasahasa Oiada! das tarinuta mireca ol tahila dodasa tolahame
caosago homida: das berinu orocahe quare: Micama! Bial! Oiad; aisaro toxa das
ivame aai Balatima. Zodacare od Zodameranu! Od cicale Qaa! Zodoreje, lape
zodiredo Noco Mada, hoathahe Saitan!
(English)
O ye sons and daughters of mildewed minds, that sit in judgement of the
inquities wrought upon me - Behold! the voice of Satan; the promise of Him who
is called amongst ye the accuser and supreme tribune! Move therefore, and
appear! Open the mysteries of your creation! Be friendly unto me, for I am the
same!, the true worshipper of the highest and ineffable King of Hell!
THE FIFTEENTH KEY
The Fifteenth Enochian Key is a resolution of acceptance and
understanding of the masters whose duty lies in administering to the seekers
after spiritual gods.
(Enochian)
Ilasa! tabaanu li-El pereta, casaremanu upaahi cahisa dareji; das oado caosaji
oresacore: das omaxa monasaçi Baeouibe od emerajisa Iaiadix. Zodacare od
Zodameranu! Odo cicale Qaa. Zodoreje, lape zodiredo Noco Mada, hoathahe Saitan!
(English)
O thou, the governor of the first flame, under whose wings are the spinners of
cobwebs that weave the Earth with dryness; that knowest the great name
"righteousness" and the seal of false honor. Move therefore, and appear! Open
the mysteries of your creation! Be friendly unto me, for I am the same!, the
true worshipper of the highest and ineffable King of Hell!
THE SIXTEENTH KEY
The Sixteenth Enochian Key gives recognition of the wondrous
contrasts of the earth, and of the sustenance of these dichotomies.
(Enochian)
Ilasa viviala pereta! Salamanu balata, das acaro odazodi busada, od belioraxa
balita: das inusi caosaji lusadanu emoda: das ome od taliobe: darilapa iehe
ilasa Mada Zodilodarepe. Zodacare od Zodameranu. Odo cicale Qaa: zodoreje, lape
zodiredo Noco Mada, hoathahe Saitan!
(English)
O thou second flame, the house of justice, which hast thy beginnings in glory
and shalt comfort the just; which walketh upon the Earth with feet of fire;
which understands and separates creatures! Great art thou in the God of
stretch-forth-and-conquer. Move therefore, and appear! Open the mysteries of
your creation! Be friendly unto me, for I am the same!, the true worshipper of
the highest and ineffable King of Hell!
THE SEVENTEENTH KEY
The Seventeenth Enochian Key is used to enlighten the
benumbered and destroy through revelation.
(Enochian)
Ilasa dial pereta! soba vaupaahe cahisa nanuba zodixalayo dodasihe od berinuta
faxisa hubaro tasataxa yolasa: soba Iad i Vonupehe o Uonupehe: aladonu dax ila
od toatare! Zodacare od Zodameranu! Odo cicale Qaa! Zodoreje, lape zodiredo Noco
Mada, hoathahe Saitan!
(English)
O thou third flame!, whose wings are thorns to stir up vexation, and who hast
myriad living lamps going before thee; whose God is wrath in anger - Gird up thy
loins and harken! Move therefore, and appear! Open the mysteries of your
creation! Be friendly unto me, for I am the same!, the true worshipper of the
highest and ineffable King of Hell!
THE EIGHTEENTH KEY
The Eighteenth Enochian Key opens the gates of Hell and casts
up Lucifer and his blessing.
(Enochian)
Ilasa micalazoda olapireta ialpereji beliore: das odo Busadire Oiad ouoaresa
caosago: casaremeji Laiada eranu berinutasa cafafame das ivemeda aqoso adoho
Moz, od maoffasa. Bolape como belioreta pamebeta. Zodacare od Zodameranu! Odo
cicale Qaa. Zodoreje, lape zodiredo Noco Mada, hoathahe Saitan!
(English)
O thou mighty light and burning flame of comfort!, that unveilest the glory of
Satan to the center of the Earth; in whom the great secrets of truth have their
abiding; that is called in thy kingdom: "strength through joy", and is not to be
measured. Be thou a window of comfort unto me. Move therefore, and appear! Open
the mysteries of your creation! Be friendly unto me, for I am the same!, the
true worshipper of the highest and ineffable King of Hell!
THE NINETEENTH KEY
The Nineteenth Enochian Key is the great sustainer of the
natural balance of the earth, the law of thrift, and of the jungle. It lays bare
all hypocrisy and the sanctimonious shall become as slaves under it. It brings
forth the greatest outpouring of wrath upon the miserable, and lays the
foundation of success for the lover of life.
(Enochian)
Madaritza das perifa LIL cahisa micaolazoda saanire caosago od fifisa
balzodizodarasa Iaida. Nonuca gohulime: Micama adoianu MADA faoda beliorebe,
soba ooaona cahisa luciftias peripesol, das aberaasasa nonucafe netaaibe caosaji
od tilabe adapehaheta damepelozoda, tooata nonucafe jimicalazodoma larasada
tofejilo marebe yareyo IDOIGO, od torezodulape yaodafe gohola, Caosaga,
tabaoreda saanire, od caharisateosa yorepoila tiobela busadire, tilabe noalanu
paida oresaba, od dodaremeni zodayolana. Elazodape tilaba paremeji peripesatza,
od ta qurelesata booapisa. Lanibame oucaho sayomepe, od caharisateosa
ajitolorenu, mireca qo tiobela lela. Tonu paomebeda dizodalamo asa pianu, od
caharisateosa aji-la-tore-torenu paracahe a sayomepe. Coredazodizoda dodapala od
fifalazoda, lasa manada, od faregita bamesa omaosa. Conisabera od auauotza
tonuji oresa; catabela noasami tabejesa leuitahemonuji. Vanucahi omepetilabe
oresa! Bahile? Moooabe OL coredazodizoda. El capimao itzomatzipe, od cacocasabe
gosaa. Bajilenu pii tianuta a babalanuda, od faoregita teloca uo uime.
Madariatza, torezodu !!! Oadariatza orocaha aboaperi! Tabaori periazoda
aretabasa! Adarepanu coresata dobitza! Yolacame periazodi arecoazodiore, od
quasabe qotinuji! Ripire paaotzata sagacore! Umela od peredazodare cacareji
Aoiveae coremepeta! Torezodu! Zodacare od Zodameranu, asapeta sibesi butamona
das surezodasa Tia balatanu. Odo cicale Qaa, od Ozodazodama pelapeli IADANAMADA!
(English)
O ye pleasures which dwell in the first air, ye are mighty in the parts of the
Earth, and execute the judgment of the mighty. Unto you it is said: Behold the
face of Satan, the beginning of comfort, whose eyes are the brightness of the
stars, which provided you for the government of the Earth, and her unspeakable
variety; furnishing you a power of understanding to dispose all things according
to the providence of Him that sitteth on the Infernal Throne, and rose up in the
Beginning saying: The Earth, let her be governed by her parts; and let there be
division in her; the glory of her may be always drunken and vexed in itself. Her
course, let it run with the fulfillment of lust; and as an handmaiden, let her
serve them. One season, let it confound another; and let there be no creature
upon or within her the same. All her numbers, let them differ in their
qualities; and let there be no creature equal with another. The reasonable
creatures of the Earth, and Men, let them vex and weed out one another; and
their dwelling places, let them forget their names. The work of Man and his
pomp, let them be defaced. His buildings, let them become caves for the beasts
of the field! Confound her understanding with darkness! For why? it repenteth me
that I have made Man. One while let her be known, and another while a stranger;
because she is in the bed of a harlot, and the dwelling place of Lucifer the
King.
Open wide the gates of Hell! The lower heavens beneath you, let them serve you!
Govern those who govern! Cast down such as fall. Bring forth those that
increase, and destroy the rotten. No place, let it remain in one number. Add and
diminish until the stars be numbered. Arise! Move! and appear before the
covenant of His mouth, which He hath sworn unto us in His justice. Open the
mysteries of your creation, and make us partakers of the UNDEFILED WISDOM.
YANKEE ROSE

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Post Re: POST, POST LIKE YOU NEVER POSTED BEFORE!
The Call of Cthulhu
(Found Among the Papers of the Late
Francis Wayland Thurston, of Boston)
by H. P. Lovecraft
ii
Chapter 1
The Horror in Clay
\Of such great powers or beings there may be conceivably a
survival . . . a survival of a hugely remote period when . . . consciousness
was manifested, perhaps, in shapes and forms long
since withdrawn before the tide of advancing humanity . . . forms
of which poetry and legend alone have caught a
ying memory
and called them gods, monsters, mythical beings of all sorts and
kinds . . . "
| Algernon Blackwood
The most merciful thing in the world, I think, is the inability of the human
mind to correlate all its contents. We live on a placid island of ignorance
in the midst of black seas of in nity, and it was not meant that we should
voyage far. The sciences, each straining in its own direction, have hitherto
harmed us little; but some day the piecing together of dissociated knowledge
will open up such terrifying vistas of reality, and of our frightful position
therein, that we shall either go mad from the revelation or
ee from the
deadly light into the peace and safety of a new dark age.
Theosophists have guessed at the awesome grandeur of the cosmic cycle
wherein our world and human race form transient incidents. They have
hinted at strange survivals in terms which would freeze the blood if not
masked by a bland optimism. But it is not from them that there came the
single glimpse of forbidden aeons which chills me when I think of it and
maddens me when I dream of it. That glimpse, like all dread glimpses of
truth,
ashed out from an accidental piecing together of separated things|
in this case an old newspaper item and the notes of a dead professor. I
hope that no one else will accomplish this piecing out; certainly, if I live, I
shall never knowingly supply a link in so hideous a chain. I think that the
professor, too, intended to keep silent regarding the part he knew, and that
he would have destroyed his notes had not sudden death seized him.
1
My knowledge of the thing began in the winter of 1926-27 with the death
of my grand-uncle George Gammell Angell, Professor Emeritus of Semitic
Languages in Brown University, Providence, Rhode Island. Professor Angell
was widely known as an authority on ancient inscriptions, and had
frequently been resorted to by the heads of prominent museums; so that his
passing at the age of ninety-two may be recalled by many. Locally, interest
was intensi ed by the obscurity of the cause of death. The professor had
been stricken whilst returning from the Newport boat; falling suddenly, as
witnesses said, after having been jostled by a nautical-looking Negro who
had come from one of the queer dark courts on the precipitous hillside which
formed a short cut from the waterfront to the deceased's home in Williams
Street. Physicians were unable to nd any visible disorder, but concluded
after perplexed debate that some obscure lesion of the heart, induced by the
brisk ascent of so steep a hill by so elderly a man, was responsible for the
end. At the time I saw no reason to dissent from this dictum, but latterly I
am inclined to wonder|and more than wonder.
As my grand-uncle's heir and executor, for he died a childless widower,
I was expected to go over his papers with some thoroughness; and for that
purpose moved his entire set of les and boxes to my quarters in Boston.
Much of the material which I correlated will be later published by the American
Archaeological Society, but there was one box which I found exceedingly
puzzling, and which I felt much averse from shewing to other eyes. It had
been locked, and I did not nd the key till it occurred to me to examine the
personal ring which the professor carried always in his pocket. Then indeed
I succeeded in opening it, but when I did so seemed only to be confronted by
a greater and more closely locked barrier. For what could be the meaning of
the queer clay bas-relief and the disjointed jottings, ramblings, and cuttings
which I found? Had my uncle, in his latter years, become credulous of the
most super cial impostures? I resolved to search out the eccentric sculptor
responsible for this apparent disturbance of an old man's peace of mind.
The bas-relief was a rough rectangle less than an inch thick and about ve
by six inches in area; obviously of modern origin. Its designs, however, were
far from modern in atmosphere and suggestion; for although the vagaries of
cubism and futurism are many and wild, they do not often reproduce that
cryptic regularity which lurks in prehistoric writing. And writing of some
kind the bulk of these designs seemed certainly to be; though my memory,
despite much familiarity with the papers and collections of my uncle, failed
in any way to identify this particular species, or even hint at its remotest
aliations.
Above these apparent hieroglyphics was a gure of evidently pictorial
intent, though its impressionistic execution forbade a very clear idea of its
nature. It seemed to be a sort of monster, or symbol representing a monster,
of a form which only a diseased fancy could conceive. If I say that my somewhat
extravagant imagination yielded simultaneous pictures of an octopus,
2
a dragon, and a human caricature, I shall not be unfaithful to the spirit of
the thing. A pulpy, tentacled head surmounted a grotesque and scaly body
with rudimentary wings; but it was the general outline of the whole which
made it most shockingly frightful. Behind the gure was a vague suggestion
of a Cyclopean architectural background.
The writing accompanying this oddity was, aside from a stack of press
cuttings, in Professor Angell's most recent hand; and made no pretense to literary
style. What seemed to be the main document was headed \CTHULHU
CULT" in characters painstakingly printed to avoid the erroneous reading
of a word so unheard-of. This manuscript was divided into two sections, the
rst of which was headed \1925|Dream and Dream Work of H. A. Wilcox,
7 Thomas St., Providence, R.I.", and the second, \Narrative of Inspector
John R. Legrasse, 121 Bienville St., New Orleans, La., at 1908 A.A.S.
Mtg.|Notes on Same, & Prof. Webb's Acct." The other manuscript papers
were all brief notes, some of them accounts of the queer dreams of di erent
persons, some of them citations from theosophical books and magazines
(notably W. Scott Elliot's Atlantis and the Lost Lemuria), and the rest comments
on long-surviving secret societies and hidden cults, with references to
passages in such mythological and anthropological source-books as Frazer's
Golden Bough and Miss Murray's Witch-Cult in Western Europe. The cuttings
largely alluded to outre mental illnesses and outbreaks of group folly
or mania in the spring of 1925.
The rst half of the principal manuscript told a very peculiar tale. It
appears that on March 1st, 1925, a thin, dark young man of neurotic and
excited aspect had called upon Professor Angell bearing the singular clay
bas-relief, which was then exceedingly damp and fresh. His card bore the
name of Henry Anthony Wilcox, and my uncle had recognized him as the
youngest son of an excellent family slightly known to him, who had latterly
been studying sculpture at the Rhode Island School of Design and
living alone at the Fleur-de-Lys Building near that institution. Wilcox was
a precocious youth of known genius but great eccentricity, and had from
childhood excited attention through the strange stories and odd dreams he
was in the habit of relating. He called himself \psychically hypersensitive",
but the staid folk of the ancient commercial city dismissed him as merely
\queer". Never mingling much with his kind, he had dropped gradually
from social visibility, and was now known only to a small group of aesthetes
from other towns. Even the Providence Art Club, anxious to preserve its
conservatism, had found him quite hopeless.
On the occasion of the visit, ran the professor's manuscript, the sculptor
abruptly asked for the bene t of his host's archaeological knowledge in
identifying the hieroglyphics on the bas-relief. He spoke in a dreamy, stilted
manner which suggested pose and alienated sympathy; and my uncle shewed
some sharpness in replying, for the conspicuous freshness of the tablet implied
kinship with anything but archaeology. Young Wilcox's rejoinder,
3
which impressed my uncle enough to make him recall and record it verbatim,
was of a fantastically poetic cast which must have typi ed his whole
conversation, and which I have since found highly characteristic of him. He
said, \It is new, indeed, for I made it last night in a dream of strange cities;
and dreams are older than brooding Tyre, or the contemplative Sphinx, or
garden-girdled Babylon."
It was then that he began that rambling tale which suddenly played
upon a sleeping memory and won the fevered interest of my uncle. There
had been a slight earthquake tremor the night before, the most considerable
felt in New England for some years; and Wilcox's imagination had been
keenly a ected. Upon retiring, he had had an unprecedented dream of
great Cyclopean cities of titan blocks and sky-
ung monoliths, all dripping
with green ooze and sinister with latent horror. Hieroglyphics had covered
the walls and pillars, and from some undetermined point below had come
a voice that was not a voice; a chaotic sensation which only fancy could
transmute into sound, but which he attempted to render by the almost
unpronounceable jumble of letters, \Cthulhu fhtagn".
This verbal jumble was the key to the recollection which excited and disturbed
Professor Angell. He questioned the sculptor with scienti c minuteness;
and studied with almost frantic intensity the bas-relief on which the
youth had found himself working, chilled and clad only in his night-clothes,
when waking had stolen bewilderingly over him. My uncle blamed his old
age, Wilcox afterward said, for his slowness in recognizing both hieroglyphics
and pictorial design. Many of his questions seemed highly out-of-place
to his visitor, especially those which tried to connect the latter with strange
cults or societies; and Wilcox could not understand the repeated promises
of silence which he was o ered in exchange for an admission of membership
in some widespread mystical or paganly religious body. When Professor
Angell became convinced that the sculptor was indeed ignorant of any cult
or system of cryptic lore, he besieged his visitor with demands for future
reports of dreams. This bore regular fruit, for after the rst interview the
manuscript records daily calls of the young man, during which he related
startling fragments of nocturnal imagery whose burden was always some terrible
Cyclopean vista of dark and dripping stone, with a subterrene voice or
intelligence shouting monotonously in enigmatical sense-impacts uninscribable
save as gibberish. The two sounds most frequently repeated are those
rendered by the letters \Cthulhu" and \R'lyeh".
On March 23rd, the manuscript continued, Wilcox failed to appear; and
inquiries at his quarters revealed that he had been stricken with an obscure
sort of fever and taken to the home of his family in Waterman Street. He
had cried out in the night, arousing several other artists in the building, and
had manifested since then only alternations of unconsciousness and delirium.
My uncle at once telephoned the family, and from that time forward kept
close watch of the case; calling often at the Thayer Street oce of Dr. Tobey,
4
whom he learned to be in charge. The youth's febrile mind, apparently, was
dwelling on strange things; and the doctor shuddered now and then as he
spoke of them. They included not only a repetition of what he had formerly
dreamed, but touched wildly on a gigantic thing \miles high" which walked
or lumbered about. He at no time fully described this object, but occasional
frantic words, as repeated by Dr. Tobey, convinced the professor that it must
be identical with the nameless monstrosity he had sought to depict in his
dream-sculpture. Reference to this object, the doctor added, was invariably
a prelude to the young man's subsidence into lethargy. His temperature,
oddly enough, was not greatly above normal; but his whole condition was
otherwise such as to suggest true fever rather than mental disorder.
On April 2nd at about 3 p.m. every trace of Wilcox's malady suddenly
ceased. He sat upright in bed, astonished to nd himself at home and
completely ignorant of what had happened in dream or reality since the
night of March 22nd. Pronounced well by his physician, he returned to
his quarters in three days; but to Professor Angell he was of no further
assistance. All traces of strange dreaming had vanished with his recovery,
and my uncle kept no record of his night-thoughts after a week of pointless
and irrelevant accounts of thoroughly usual visions.
Here the rst part of the manuscript ended, but references to certain of
the scattered notes gave me much material for thought|so much, in fact,
that only the ingrained scepticism then forming my philosophy can account
for my continued distrust of the artist. The notes in question were those
descriptive of the dreams of various persons covering the same period as that
in which young Wilcox had had his strange visitations. My uncle, it seems,
had quickly instituted a prodigiously far-
ung body of inquiries amongst
nearly all the friends whom he could question without impertinence, asking
for nightly reports of their dreams, and the dates of any notable visions
for some time past. The reception of his request seems to have been varied;
but he must, at the very least, have received more responses than any
ordinary man could have handled without a secretary. This original correspondence
was not preserved, but his notes formed a thorough and really
signi cant digest. Average people in society and business|New England's
traditional \salt of the earth"|gave an almost completely negative result,
though scattered cases of uneasy but formless nocturnal impressions appear
here and there, always between March 23rd and April 2nd|the period of
young Wilcox's delirium. Scienti c men were little more a ected, though
four cases of vague description suggest fugitive glimpses of strange landscapes,
and in one case there is mentioned a dread of something abnormal.
It was from the artists and poets that the pertinent answers came, and
I know that panic would have broken loose had they been able to compare
notes. As it was, lacking their original letters, I half suspected the compiler
of having asked leading questions, or of having edited the correspondence in
corroboration of what he had latently resolved to see. That is why I contin-
5
ued to feel that Wilcox, somehow cognisant of the old data which my uncle
had possessed, had been imposing on the veteran scientist. These responses
from aesthetes told a disturbing tale. From February 28th to April 2nd a
large proportion of them had dreamed very bizarre things, the intensity of
the dreams being immeasurably the stronger during the period of the sculptor's
delirium. Over a fourth of those who reported anything, reported scenes
and half-sounds not unlike those which Wilcox had described; and some of
the dreamers confessed acute fear of the gigantic nameless thing visible toward
the last. One case, which the note describes with emphasis, was very
sad. The subject, a widely known architect with leanings toward theosophy
and occultism, went violently insane on the date of young Wilcox's seizure,
and expired several months later after incessant screamings to be saved from
some escaped denizen of hell. Had my uncle referred to these cases by name
instead of merely by number, I should have attempted some corroboration
and personal investigation; but as it was, I succeeded in tracing down only a
few. All of these, however, bore out the notes in full. I have often wondered
if all the objects of the professor's questioning felt as puzzled as did this
fraction. It is well that no explanation shall ever reach them.
The press cuttings, as I have intimated, touched on cases of panic, mania,
and eccentricity during the given period. Professor Angell must have
employed a cutting bureau, for the number of extracts was tremendous and
the sources scattered throughout the globe. Here was a nocturnal suicide
in London, where a lone sleeper had leaped from a window after a shocking
cry. Here likewise a rambling letter to the editor of a paper in South
America, where a fanatic deduces a dire future from visions he has seen. A
despatch from California describes a theosophist colony as donning white
robes en masse for some \glorious ful llment" which never arrives, whilst
items from India speak guardedly of serious native unrest toward the end
of March. Voodoo orgies multiply in Hayti, and African outposts report
ominous mutterings. American ocers in the Philippines nd certain tribes
bothersome at this time, and New York policemen are mobbed by hysterical
Levantines on the night of March 22-23. The west of Ireland, too, is full
of wild rumour and legendry, and a fantastic painter named Ardois-Bonnot
hangs a blasphemous \Dream Landscape" in the Paris spring salon of 1926.
And so numerous are the recorded troubles in insane asylums, that only a
miracle can have stopped the medical fraternity from noting strange parallelisms
and drawing mysti ed conclusions. A weird bunch of cuttings, all
told; and I can at this date scarcely envisage the callous rationalism with
which I set them aside. But I was then convinced that young Wilcox had
known of the older matters mentioned by the professor.
6
Chapter 2
The Tale of Inspector
Legrasse
The older matters which had made the sculptor's dream and bas-relief
so signi cant to my uncle formed the subject of the second half of his
long manuscript. Once before, it appears, Professor Angell had seen the
hellish outlines of the nameless monstrosity, puzzled over the unknown hieroglyphics,
and heard the ominous syllables which can be rendered only
as \Cthulhu"; and all this in so stirring and horrible a connexion that it is
small wonder he pursued young Wilcox with queries and demands for data.
This earlier experience had come in 1908, seventeen years before, when
the American Archaeological Society held its annual meeting in St. Louis.
Professor Angell, as be tted one of his authority and attainments, had had
a prominent part in all the deliberations; and was one of the rst to be
approached by the several outsiders who took advantage of the convocation
to o er questions for correct answering and problems for expert solution.
The chief of these outsiders, and in a short time the focus of interest for
the entire meeting, was a commonplace-looking middle-aged man who had
travelled all the way from New Orleans for certain special information unobtainable
from any local source. His name was John Raymond Legrasse, and
he was by profession an Inspector of Police. With him he bore the subject of
his visit, a grotesque, repulsive, and apparently very ancient stone statuette
whose origin he was at a loss to determine. It must not be fancied that
Inspector Legrasse had the least interest in archaeology. On the contrary,
his wish for enlightenment was prompted by purely professional considerations.
The statuette, idol, fetish, or whatever it was, had been captured
some months before in the wooded swamps south of New Orleans during
a raid on a supposed voodoo meeting; and so singular and hideous were
the rites connected with it, that the police could not but realise that they
had stumbled on a dark cult totally unknown to them, and in nitely more
diabolic than even the blackest of the African voodoo circles. Of its origin,
7
apart from the erratic and unbelievable tales extorted from the captured
members, absolutely nothing was to be discovered; hence the anxiety of the
police for any antiquarian lore which might help them to place the frightful
symbol, and through it track down the cult to its fountain-head.
Inspector Legrasse was scarcely prepared for the sensation which his
o ering created. One sight of the thing had been enough to throw the assembled
men of science into a state of tense excitement, and they lost no
time in crowding around him to gaze at the diminutive gure whose utter
strangeness and air of genuinely abysmal antiquity hinted so potently at
unopened and archaic vistas. No recognised school of sculpture had animated
this terrible object, yet centuries and even thousands of years seemed
recorded in its dim and greenish surface of unplaceable stone.
The gure, which was nally passed slowly from man to man for close
and careful study, was between seven and eight inches in height, and of
exquisitely artistic workmanship. It represented a monster of vaguely anthropoid
outline, but with an octopus-like head whose face was a mass of
feelers, a scaly, rubbery-looking body, prodigious claws on hind and fore
feet, and long, narrow wings behind. This thing, which seemed instinct
with a fearsome and unnatural malignancy, was of a somewhat bloated corpulence,
and squatted evilly on a rectangular block or pedestal covered with
undecipherable characters. The tips of the wings touched the back edge of
the block, the seat occupied the centre, whilst the long, curved claws of the
doubled-up, crouching hind legs gripped the front edge and extended a quarter
of the way down toward the bottom of the pedestal. The cephalopod
head was bent forward, so that the ends of the facial feelers brushed the
backs of huge fore paws which clasped the croucher's elevated knees. The
aspect of the whole was abnormally life-like, and the more subtly fearful
because its source was so totally unknown. Its vast, awesome, and incalculable
age was unmistakable; yet not one link did it shew with any known
type of art belonging to civilisation's youth|or indeed to any other time.
Totally separate and apart, its very material was a mystery; for the soapy,
greenish-black stone with its golden or iridescent
ecks and striations resembled
nothing familiar to geology or mineralogy. The characters along the
base were equally baing; and no member present, despite a representation
of half the world's expert learning in this eld, could form the least notion of
even their remotest linguistic kinship. They, like the subject and material,
belonged to something horribly remote and distinct from mankind as we
know it; something frightfully suggestive of old and unhallowed cycles of life
in which our world and our conceptions have no part.
And yet, as the members severally shook their heads and confessed defeat
at the Inspector's problem, there was one man in that gathering who
suspected a touch of bizarre familiarity in the monstrous shape and writing,
and who presently told with some didence of the odd tri
e he knew.
This person was the late William Channing Webb, Professor of Anthropol-
8
ogy in Princeton University, and an explorer of no slight note. Professor
Webb had been engaged, forty-eight years before, in a tour of Greenland
and Iceland in search of some Runic inscriptions which he failed to unearth;
and whilst high up on the West Greenland coast had encountered a singular
tribe or cult of degenerate Esquimaux whose religion, a curious form of
devil-worship, chilled him with its deliberate bloodthirstiness and repulsiveness.
It was a faith of which other Esquimaux knew little, and which they
mentioned only with shudders, saying that it had come down from horribly
ancient aeons before ever the world was made. Besides nameless rites and
human sacri ces there were certain queer hereditary rituals addressed to a
supreme elder devil or tornasuk; and of this Professor Webb had taken a
careful phonetic copy from an aged angekok or wizard-priest, expressing the
sounds in Roman letters as best he knew how. But just now of prime significance
was the fetish which this cult had cherished, and around which they
danced when the aurora leaped high over the ice cli s. It was, the professor
stated, a very crude bas-relief of stone, comprising a hideous picture and
some cryptic writing. And so far as he could tell, it was a rough parallel in
all essential features of the bestial thing now lying before the meeting.
This data, received with suspense and astonishment by the assembled
members, proved doubly exciting to Inspector Legrasse; and he began at
once to ply his informant with questions. Having noted and copied an oral
ritual among the swamp cult-worshippers his men had arrested, he besought
the professor to remember as best he might the syllables taken down amongst
the diabolist Esquimaux. There then followed an exhaustive comparison
of details, and a moment of really awed silence when both detective and
scientist agreed on the virtual identity of the phrase common to two hellish
rituals so many worlds of distance apart. What, in substance, both the
Esquimaux wizards and the Louisiana swamp-priests had chanted to their
kindred idols was something very like this|the word-divisions being guessed
at from traditional breaks in the phrase as chanted aloud:
\Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtagn."
Legrasse had one point in advance of Professor Webb, for several among
his mongrel prisoners had repeated to him what older celebrants had told
them the words meant. This text, as given, ran something like this:
\In his house at R'lyeh dead Cthulhu waits dreaming."
And now, in response to a general and urgent demand, Inspector Legrasse
related as fully as possible his experience with the swamp worshippers;
telling a story to which I could see my uncle attached profound signi cance.
It savoured of the wildest dreams of mythmaker and theosophist, and disclosed
an astonishing degree of cosmic imagination among such half-castes
and pariahs as might be least expected to possess it.
9
On November 1st, 1907, there had come to the New Orleans police a
frantic summons from the swamp and lagoon country to the south. The
squatters there, mostly primitive but good-natured descendants of La tte's
men, were in the grip of stark terror from an unknown thing which had
stolen upon them in the night. It was voodoo, apparently, but voodoo of a
more terrible sort than they had ever known; and some of their women and
children had disappeared since the malevolent tom-tom had begun its incessant
beating far within the black haunted woods where no dweller ventured.
There were insane shouts and harrowing screams, soul-chilling chants and
dancing devil-
ames; and, the frightened messenger added, the people could
stand it no more.
So a body of twenty police, lling two carriages and an automobile, had
set out in the late afternoon with the shivering squatter as a guide. At
the end of the passable road they alighted, and for miles splashed on in
silence through the terrible cypress woods where day never came. Ugly
roots and malignant hanging nooses of Spanish moss beset them, and now
and then a pile of dank stones or fragment of a rotting wall intensi ed by
its hint of morbid habitation a depression which every malformed tree and
every fungous islet combined to create. At length the squatter settlement,
a miserable huddle of huts, hove in sight; and hysterical dwellers ran out
to cluster around the group of bobbing lanterns. The mued beat of tomtoms
was now faintly audible far, far ahead; and a curdling shriek came at
infrequent intervals when the wind shifted. A reddish glare, too, seemed to
lter through pale undergrowth beyond the endless avenues of forest night.
Reluctant even to be left alone again, each one of the cowed squatters refused
point-blank to advance another inch toward the scene of unholy worship, so
Inspector Legrasse and his nineteen colleagues plunged on unguided into
black arcades of horror that none of them had ever trod before.
The region now entered by the police was one of traditionally evil repute,
substantially unknown and untraversed by white men. There were legends
of a hidden lake unglimpsed by mortal sight, in which dwelt a huge, formless
white polypous thing with luminous eyes; and squatters whispered that batwinged
devils
ew up out of caverns in inner earth to worship it at midnight.
They said it had been there before d'Iberville, before La Salle, before the
Indians, and before even the wholesome beasts and birds of the woods. It
was nightmare itself, and to see it was to die. But it made men dream, and
so they knew enough to keep away. The present voodoo orgy was, indeed, on
the merest fringe of this abhorred area, but that location was bad enough;
hence perhaps the very place of the worship had terri ed the squatters more
than the shocking sounds and incidents.
Only poetry or madness could do justice to the noises heard by Legrasse's
men as they ploughed on through the black morass toward the red glare
and mued tom-toms. There are vocal qualities peculiar to men, and vocal
qualities peculiar to beasts; and it is terrible to hear the one when the source
10
should yield the other. Animal fury and orgiastic license here whipped
themselves to daemoniac heights by howls and squawking ecstacies that
tore and reverberated through those nighted woods like pestilential tempests
from the gulfs of hell. Now and then the less organized ululation would cease,
and from what seemed a well-drilled chorus of hoarse voices would rise in
sing-song chant that hideous phrase or ritual: \Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Cthulhu
R'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtagn."
Then the men, having reached a spot where the trees were thinner, came
suddenly in sight of the spectacle itself. Four of them reeled, one fainted,
and two were shaken into a frantic cry which the mad cacophony of the
orgy fortunately deadened. Legrasse dashed swamp water on the face of the
fainting man, and all stood trembling and nearly hypnotised with horror.
In a natural glade of the swamp stood a grassy island of perhaps an
acre's extent, clear of trees and tolerably dry. On this now leaped and
twisted a more indescribable horde of human abnormality than any but a
Sime or an Angarola could paint. Void of clothing, this hybrid spawn were
braying, bellowing, and writhing about a monstrous ring-shaped bon re;
in the centre of which, revealed by occasional rifts in the curtain of
ame,
stood a great granite monolith some eight feet in height; on top of which,
incongruous in its diminutiveness, rested the noxious carven statuette. From
a wide circle of ten sca olds set up at regular intervals with the
ame-girt
monolith as a centre hung, head downward, the oddly marred bodies of the
helpless squatters who had disappeared. It was inside this circle that the
ring of worshippers jumped and roared, the general direction of the mass
motion being from left to right in endless Bacchanal between the ring of
bodies and the ring of re.
It may have been only imagination and it may have been only echoes
which induced one of the men, an excitable Spaniard, to fancy he heard antiphonal
responses to the ritual from some far and unillumined spot deeper
within the wood of ancient legendry and horror. This man, Joseph D.
Galvez, I later met and questioned; and he proved distractingly imaginative.
He indeed went so far as to hint of the faint beating of great wings,
and of a glimpse of shining eyes and a mountainous white bulk beyond the
remotest trees|but I suppose he had been hearing too much native superstition.
Actually, the horri ed pause of the men was of comparatively brief duration.
Duty came rst; and although there must have been nearly a hundred
mongrel celebrants in the throng, the police relied on their rearms and
plunged determinedly into the nauseous rout. For ve minutes the resultant
din and chaos were beyond description. Wild blows were struck, shots were
red, and escapes were made; but in the end Legrasse was able to count some
forty-seven sullen prisoners, whom he forced to dress in haste and fall into
line between two rows of policemen. Five of the worshippers lay dead, and
two severely wounded ones were carried away on improvised stretchers by
11
their fellow-prisoners. The image on the monolith, of course, was carefully
removed and carried back by Legrasse.
Examined at headquarters after a trip of intense strain and weariness,
the prisoners all proved to be men of a very low, mixed-blooded, and mentally
aberrant type. Most were seamen, and a sprinkling of Negroes and
mulattoes, largely West Indians or Brava Portuguese from the Cape Verde
Islands, gave a colouring of voodooism to the heterogeneous cult. But before
many questions were asked, it became manifest that something far deeper
and older than Negro fetichism was involved. Degraded and ignorant as
they were, the creatures held with surprising consistency to the central idea
of their loathsome faith.
They worshipped, so they said, the Great Old Ones who lived ages before
there were any men, and who came to the young world out of the sky. Those
Old Ones were gone now, inside the earth and under the sea; but their dead
bodies had told their secrets in dreams to the rst men, who formed a cult
which had never died. This was that cult, and the prisoners said it had
always existed and always would exist, hidden in distant wastes and dark
places all over the world until the time when the great priest Cthulhu, from
his dark house in the mighty city of R'lyeh under the waters, should rise
and bring the earth again beneath his sway. Some day he would call, when
the stars were ready, and the secret cult would always be waiting to liberate
him.
Meanwhile no more must be told. There was a secret which even torture
could not extract. Mankind was not absolutely alone among the conscious
things of earth, for shapes came out of the dark to visit the faithful few.
But these were not the Great Old Ones. No man had ever seen the Old
Ones. The carven idol was great Cthulhu, but none might say whether or
not the others were precisely like him. No one could read the old writing
now, but things were told by word of mouth. The chanted ritual was not
the secret|that was never spoken aloud, only whispered. The chant meant
only this: \In his house at R'lyeh dead Cthulhu waits dreaming."
Only two of the prisoners were found sane enough to be hanged, and
the rest were committed to various institutions. All denied a part in the
ritual murders, and averred that the killing had been done by Black Winged
Ones which had come to them from their immemorial meeting-place in the
haunted wood. But of those mysterious allies no coherent account could ever
be gained. What the police did extract, came mainly from the immensely
aged mestizo named Castro, who claimed to have sailed to strange ports
and talked with undying leaders of the cult in the mountains of China.
Old Castro remembered bits of hideous legend that paled the speculations
of theosophists and made man and the world seem recent and transient
indeed. There had been aeons when other Things ruled on the earth, and
They had had great cities. Remains of Them, he said the deathless Chinamen
had told him, were still to be found as Cyclopean stones on islands
12
in the Paci c. They all died vast epochs of time before men came, but
there were arts which could revive Them when the stars had come round
again to the right positions in the cycle of eternity. They had, indeed, come
themselves from the stars, and brought Their images with Them.
These Great Old Ones, Castro continued, were not composed altogether
of
esh and blood. They had shape|for did not this star-fashioned image
prove it?|but that shape was not made of matter. When the stars were
right, They could plunge from world to world through the sky; but when
the stars were wrong, They could not live. But although They no longer
lived, They would never really die. They all lay in stone houses in Their
great city of R'lyeh, preserved by the spells of mighty Cthulhu for a glorious
resurrection when the stars and the earth might once more be ready for
Them. But at that time some force from outside must serve to liberate
Their bodies. The spells that preserved Them intact likewise prevented
Them from making an initial move, and They could only lie awake in the
dark and think whilst uncounted millions of years rolled by. They knew all
that was occurring in the universe, for Their mode of speech was transmitted
thought. Even now They talked in Their tombs. When, after in nities of
chaos, the rst men came, the Great Old Ones spoke to the sensitive among
them by moulding their dreams; for only thus could Their language reach
the
eshly minds of mammals.
Then, whispered Castro, those rst men formed the cult around small
idols which the Great Ones shewed them; idols brought in dim eras from dark
stars. That cult would never die till the stars came right again, and the secret
priests would take great Cthulhu from His tomb to revive His subjects and
resume His rule of earth. The time would be easy to know, for then mankind
would have become as the Great Old Ones; free and wild and beyond good
and evil, with laws and morals thrown aside and all men shouting and killing
and revelling in joy. Then the liberated Old Ones would teach them new
ways to shout and kill and revel and enjoy themselves, and all the earth
would
ame with a holocaust of ecstasy and freedom. Meanwhile the cult,
by appropriate rites, must keep alive the memory of those ancient ways and
shadow forth the prophecy of their return.
In the elder time chosen men had talked with the entombed Old Ones in
dreams, but then something happened. The great stone city R'lyeh, with its
monoliths and sepulchres, had sunk beneath the waves; and the deep waters,
full of the one primal mystery through which not even thought can pass, had
cut o the spectral intercourse. But memory never died, and the high-priests
said that the city would rise again when the stars were right. Then came
out of the earth the black spirits of earth, mouldy and shadowy, and full of
dim rumours picked up in caverns beneath forgotten sea-bottoms. But of
them old Castro dared not speak much. He cut himself o hurriedly, and no
amount of persuasion or subtlety could elicit more in this direction. The size
of the Old Ones, too, he curiously declined to mention. Of the cult, he said
13
that he thought the centre lay amid the pathless desert of Arabia, where
Irem, the City of Pillars, dreams hidden and untouched. It was not allied to
the European witch-cult, and was virtually unknown beyond its members.
No book had ever really hinted of it, though the deathless Chinamen said
that there were double meanings in the Necronomicon of the mad Arab
Abdul Alhazred which the initiated might read as they chose, especially the
much-discussed couplet:
\That is not dead which can eternal lie,
And with strange aeons even death may die."
Legrasse, deeply impressed and not a little bewildered, had inquired in
vain concerning the historic aliations of the cult. Castro, apparently, had
told the truth when he said that it was wholly secret. The authorities at
Tulane University could shed no light upon either cult or image, and now
the detective had come to the highest authorities in the country and met
with no more than the Greenland tale of Professor Webb.
The feverish interest aroused at the meeting by Legrasse's tale, corroborated
as it was by the statuette, is echoed in the subsequent correspondence
of those who attended; although scant mention occurs in the formal publications
of the society. Caution is the rst care of those accustomed to
face occasional charlatanry and imposture. Legrasse for some time lent the
image to Professor Webb, but at the latter's death it was returned to him
and remains in his possession, where I viewed it not long ago. It is truly
a terrible thing, and unmistakably akin to the dream-sculpture of young
Wilcox.
That my uncle was excited by the tale of the sculptor I did not wonder,
for what thoughts must arise upon hearing, after a knowledge of what
Legrasse had learned of the cult, of a sensitive young man who had dreamed
not only the gure and exact hieroglyphics of the swamp-found image and
the Greenland devil tablet, but had come in his dreams upon at least three
of the precise words of the formula uttered alike by Esquimau diabolists and
mongrel Louisianans? Professor Angell's instant start on an investigation
of the utmost thoroughness was eminently natural; though privately I suspected
young Wilcox of having heard of the cult in some indirect way, and of
having invented a series of dreams to heighten and continue the mystery at
my uncle's expense. The dream-narratives and cuttings collected by the professor
were, of course, strong corroboration; but the rationalism of my mind
and the extravagance of the whole subject led me to adopt what I thought
the most sensible conclusions. So, after thoroughly studying the manuscript
again and correlating the theosophical and anthropological notes with the
cult narrative of Legrasse, I made a trip to Providence to see the sculptor
and give him the rebuke I thought proper for so boldly imposing upon a
learned and aged man.
14
Wilcox still lived alone in the Fleur-de-Lys Building in Thomas Street,
a hideous Victorian imitation of seventeenth-century Breton architecture
which
aunts its stuccoed front amidst the lovely colonial houses on the
ancient hill, and under the very shadow of the nest Georgian steeple in
America, I found him at work in his rooms, and at once conceded from the
specimens scattered about that his genius is indeed profound and authentic.
He will, I believe, some time be heard from as one of the great decadents; for
he has crystallised in clay and will one day mirror in marble those nightmares
and phantasies which Arthur Machen evokes in prose, and Clark Ashton
Smith makes visible in verse and in painting.
Dark, frail, and somewhat unkempt in aspect, he turned languidly at
my knock and asked me my business without rising. When I told him who
I was, he displayed some interest; for my uncle had excited his curiosity
in probing his strange dreams, yet had never explained the reason for the
study. I did not enlarge his knowledge in this regard, but sought with some
subtlety to draw him out. In a short time I became convinced of his absolute
sincerity, for he spoke of the dreams in a manner none could mistake. They
and their subconscious residuum had in
uenced his art profoundly, and he
shewed me a morbid statue whose contours almost made me shake with the
potency of its black suggestion. He could not recall having seen the original
of this thing except in his own dream bas-relief, but the outlines had formed
themselves insensibly under his hands. It was, no doubt, the giant shape he
had raved of in delirium. That he really knew nothing of the hidden cult,
save from what my uncle's relentless catechism had let fall, he soon made
clear; and again I strove to think of some way in which he could possibly
have received the weird impressions.
He talked of his dreams in a strangely poetic fashion; making me see
with terrible vividness the damp Cyclopean city of slimy green stone|
whose geometry, he oddly said, was all wrong|and hear with frightened
expectancy the ceaseless, half-mental calling from underground: \Cthulhu
fhtagn", \Cthulhu fhtagn". These words had formed part of that dread ritual
which told of dead Cthulhu's dream-vigil in his stone vault at R'lyeh,
and I felt deeply moved despite my rational beliefs. Wilcox, I was sure,
had heard of the cult in some casual way, and had soon forgotten it amidst
the mass of his equally weird reading and imagining. Later, by virtue of
its sheer impressiveness, it had found subconscious expression in dreams, in
the bas-relief, and in the terrible statue I now beheld; so that his imposture
upon my uncle had been a very innocent one. The youth was of a type, at
once slightly a ected and slightly ill-mannered, which I could never like, but
I was willing enough now to admit both his genius and his honesty. I took
leave of him amicably, and wish him all the success his talent promises.
The matter of the cult still remained to fascinate me, and at times I
had visions of personal fame from researches into its origin and connexions.
I visited New Orleans, talked with Legrasse and others of that old-time
15
raiding-party, saw the frightful image, and even questioned such of the mongrel
prisoners as still survived. Old Castro, unfortunately, had been dead
for some years. What I now heard so graphically at rst-hand, though it
was really no more than a detailed con rmation of what my uncle had written,
excited me afresh; for I felt sure that I was on the track of a very real,
very secret, and very ancient religion whose discovery would make me an
anthropologist of note. My attitude was still one of absolute materialism,
as I wish it still were, and I discounted with almost inexplicable perversity
the coincidence of the dream notes and odd cuttings collected by Professor
Angell.
One thing I began to suspect, and which I now fear I know, is that my
uncle's death was far from natural. He fell on a narrow hill street leading up
from an ancient waterfront swarming with foreign mongrels, after a careless
push from a Negro sailor. I did not forget the mixed blood and marine
pursuits of the cult-members in Louisiana, and would not be surprised to
learn of secret methods and rites and beliefs. Legrasse and his men, it is
true, have been let alone; but in Norway a certain seaman who saw things
is dead. Might not the deeper inquiries of my uncle after encountering the
sculptor's data have come to sinister ears? I think Professor Angell died
because he knew too much, or because he was likely to learn too much.
Whether I shall go as he did remains to be seen, for I have learned much
now.
16
Chapter 3
The Madness from the Sea
If heaven ever wishes to grant me a boon, it will be a total e acing of the
results of a mere chance which xed my eye on a certain stray piece of shelfpaper.
It was nothing on which I would naturally have stumbled in the
course of my daily round, for it was an old number of an Australian journal,
the Sydney Bulletin for April 18, 1925. It had escaped even the cutting
bureau which had at the time of its issuance been avidly collecting material
for my uncle's research.
I had largely given over my inquiries into what Professor Angell called the
\Cthulhu Cult", and was visiting a learned friend in Paterson, New Jersey;
the curator of a local museum and a mineralogist of note. Examining one
day the reserve specimens roughly set on the storage shelves in a rear room
of the museum, my eye was caught by an odd picture in one of the old papers
spread beneath the stones. It was the Sydney Bulletin I have mentioned,
for my friend had wide aliations in all conceivable foreign parts; and the
picture was a half-tone cut of a hideous stone image almost identical with
that which Legrasse had found in the swamp.
Eagerly clearing the sheet of its precious contents, I scanned the item
in detail; and was disappointed to nd it of only moderate length. What
it suggested, however, was of portentous signi cance to my
agging quest;
and I carefully tore it out for immediate action. It read as follows:
MYSTERY DERELICT FOUND AT SEA
Vigilant Arrives With Helpless Armed New Zealand Yacht in Tow.
One Survivor and Dead Man Found Aboard. Tale of Desperate
Battle and Deaths at Sea.
Rescued Seaman Refuses Particulars of Strange Experience.
Odd Idol Found in His Possession. Inquiry to Follow.
17
The Morrison Co.'s freighter Vigilant, bound from Valparaiso,
arrived this morning at its wharf in Darling Harbour, having in
tow the battled and disabled but heavily armed steam yacht Alert
of Dunedin, N.Z., which was sighted April 12th in S. Latitude
34 210, W. Longitude 152 170 with one living and one dead man
aboard.
The Vigilant left Valparaiso March 25th, and on April 2nd was
driven considerably south of her course by exceptionally heavy
storms and monster waves. On April 12th the derelict was
sighted; and though apparently deserted, was found upon boarding
to contain one survivor in a half-delirious condition and one
man who had evidently been dead for more than a week. The
living man was clutching a horrible stone idol of unknown origin,
about a foot in height, regarding whose nature authorities at
Sydney University, the Royal Society, and the Museum in College
Street all profess complete baement, and which the survivor
says he found in the cabin of the yacht, in a small carved
shrine of common pattern.
This man, after recovering his senses, told an exceedingly strange
story of piracy and slaughter. He is Gustaf Johansen, a Norwegian
of some intelligence, and had been second mate of the twomasted
schooner Emma of Auckland, which sailed for Callao
February 20th with a complement of eleven men. The Emma,
he says, was delayed and thrown widely south of her course by
the great storm of March 1st, and on March 22nd, in S. Latitude
49 510 W. Longitude 128 340, encountered the Alert, manned
by a queer and evil-looking crew of Kanakas and half-castes.
Being ordered peremptorily to turn back, Capt. Collins refused;
whereupon the strange crew began to re savagely and without
warning upon the schooner with a peculiarly heavy battery
of brass cannon forming part of the yacht's equipment. The
Emma's men shewed ght, says the survivor, and though the
schooner began to sink from shots beneath the waterline they
managed to heave alongside their enemy and board her, grappling
with the savage crew on the yacht's deck, and being forced
to kill them all, the number being slightly superior, because of
their particularly abhorrent and desperate though rather clumsy
mode of ghting.
Three of the Emma's men, including Capt. Collins and First
Mate Green, were killed; and the remaining eight under Second
Mate Johansen proceeded to navigate the captured yacht, going
ahead in their original direction to see if any reason for their
ordering back had existed. The next day, it appears, they raised
18
and landed on a small island, although none is known to exist in
that part of the ocean; and six of the men somehow died ashore,
though Johansen is queerly reticent about this part of his story,
and speaks only of their falling into a rock chasm. Later, it seems,
he and one companion boarded the yacht and tried to manage
her, but were beaten about by the storm of April 2nd. From that
time till his rescue on the 12th the man remembers little, and he
does not even recall when William Briden, his companion, died.
Briden's death reveals no apparent cause, and was probably due
to excitement or exposure. Cable advices from Dunedin report
that the Alert was well known there as an island trader, and
bore an evil reputation along the waterfront. It was owned by a
curious group of half-castes whose frequent meetings and night
trips to the woods attracted no little curiosity; and it had set sail
in great haste just after the storm and earth tremors of March
1st. Our Auckland correspondent gives the Emma and her crew
an excellent reputation, and Johansen is described as a sober
and worthy man. The admiralty will institute an inquiry on the
whole matter beginning tomorrow, at which every e ort will be
made to induce Johansen to speak more freely than he has done
hitherto.
This was all, together with the picture of the hellish image; but what a
train of ideas it started in my mind! Here were new treasuries of data on the
Cthulhu Cult, and evidence that it had strange interests at sea as well as on
land. What motive prompted the hybrid crew to order back the Emma as
they sailed about with their hideous idol? What was the unknown island on
which six of the Emma's crew had died, and about which the mate Johansen
was so secretive? What had the vice-admiralty's investigation brought out,
and what was known of the noxious cult in Dunedin? And most marvellous
of all, what deep and more than natural linkage of dates was this which gave
a malign and now undeniable signi cance to the various turns of events so
carefully noted by my uncle?
March 1st|our February 28th according to the International Date Line|
the earthquake and storm had come. From Dunedin the Alert and her noisome
crew had darted eagerly forth as if imperiously summoned, and on the
other side of the earth poets and artists had begun to dream of a strange,
dank Cyclopean city whilst a young sculptor had moulded in his sleep the
form of the dreaded Cthulhu. March 23rd the crew of the Emma landed on
an unknown island and left six men dead; and on that date the dreams of
sensitive men assumed a heightened vividness and darkened with dread of
a giant monster's malign pursuit, whilst an architect had gone mad and a
sculptor had lapsed suddenly into delirium! And what of this storm of April
2nd|the date on which all dreams of the dank city ceased, and Wilcox
19
emerged unharmed from the bondage of strange fever? What of all this|
and of those hints of old Castro about the sunken, star-born Old Ones and
their coming reign; their faithful cult and their mastery of dreams? Was I
tottering on the brink of cosmic horrors beyond man's power to bear? If
so, they must be horrors of the mind alone, for in some way the second of
April had put a stop to whatever monstrous menace had begun its siege of
mankind's soul.
That evening, after a day of hurried cabling and arranging, I bade my
host adieu and took a train for San Francisco. In less than a month I was
in Dunedin; where, however, I found that little was known of the strange
cult-members who had lingered in the old sea-taverns. Waterfront scum
was far too common for special mention; though there was vague talk about
one inland trip these mongrels had made, during which faint drumming
and red
ame were noted on the distant hills. In Auckland I learned that
Johansen had returned with yellow hair turned white after a perfunctory and
inconclusive questioning at Sydney, and had thereafter sold his cottage in
West Street and sailed with his wife to his old home in Oslo. Of his stirring
experience he would tell his friends no more than he had told the admiralty
ocials, and all they could do was to give me his Oslo address.
After that I went to Sydney and talked pro tlessly with seamen and
members of the vice-admiralty court. I saw the Alert, now sold and in commercial
use, at Circular Quay in Sydney Cove, but gained nothing from its
non-committal bulk. The crouching image with its cuttle sh head, dragon
body, scaly wings, and hieroglyphed pedestal, was preserved in the Museum
at Hyde Park; and I studied it long and well, nding it a thing of balefully
exquisite workmanship, and with the same utter mystery, terrible antiquity,
and unearthly strangeness of material which I had noted in Legrasse's
smaller specimen. Geologists, the curator told me, had found it a monstrous
puzzle; for they vowed that the world held no rock like it. Then I thought
with a shudder of what Old Castro had told Legrasse about the Great Ones;
\They had come from the stars, and had brought Their images with Them."
Shaken with such a mental revolution as I had never before known, I
now resolved to visit Mate Johansen in Oslo. Sailing for London, I reembarked
at once for the Norwegian capital; and one autumn day landed at
the trim wharves in the shadow of the Egeberg. Johansen's address, I discovered,
lay in the Old Town of King Harold Haardrada, which kept alive
the name of Oslo during all the centuries that the greater city masqueraded
as \Christiana". I made the brief trip by taxicab, and knocked with palpitant
heart at the door of a neat and ancient building with plastered front.
A sad-faced woman in black answered my summons, and I was stung with
disappointment when she told me in halting English that Gustaf Johansen
was no more.
He had not long survived his return, said his wife, for the doings at sea in
1925 had broken him. He had told her no more than he had told the public,
20
but had left a long manuscript|of \technical matters" as he said|written in
English, evidently in order to safeguard her from the peril of casual perusal.
During a walk through a narrow lane near the Gothenburg dock, a bundle
of papers falling from an attic window had knocked him down. Two Lascar
sailors at once helped him to his feet, but before the ambulance could reach
him he was dead. Physicians found no adequate cause for the end, and laid
it to heart trouble and a weakened constitution.
I now felt gnawing at my vitals that dark terror which will never leave
me till I, too, am at rest; \accidentally" or otherwise. Persuading the widow
that my connexion with her husband's \technical matters" was sucient to
entitle me to his manuscript, I bore the document away and began to read
it on the London boat. It was a simple, rambling thing|a naive sailor's
e ort at a post-facto diary|and strove to recall day by day that last awful
voyage. I cannot attempt to transcribe it verbatim in all its cloudiness and
redundance, but I will tell its gist enough to shew why the sound of the
water against the vessel's sides became so unendurable to me that I stopped
my ears with cotton.
Johansen, thank God, did not know quite all, even though he saw the
city and the Thing, but I shall never sleep calmly again when I think of
the horrors that lurk ceaselessly behind life in time and in space, and of
those unhallowed blasphemies from elder stars which dream beneath the
sea, known and favoured by a nightmare cult ready and eager to loose them
on the world whenever another earthquake shall heave their monstrous stone
city again to the sun and air.
Johansen's voyage had begun just as he told it to the vice-admiralty.
The Emma, in ballast, had cleared Auckland on February 20th, and had
felt the full force of that earthquake-born tempest which must have heaved
up from the sea-bottom the horrors that lled men's dreams. Once more
under control, the ship was making good progress when held up by the
Alert on March 22nd, and I could feel the mate's regret as he wrote of
her bombardment and sinking. Of the swarthy cult- ends on the Alert
he speaks with signi cant horror. There was some peculiarly abominable
quality about them which made their destruction seem almost a duty, and
Johansen shews ingenuous wonder at the charge of ruthlessness brought
against his party during the proceedings of the court of inquiry. Then, driven
ahead by curiosity in their captured yacht under Johansen's command, the
men sight a great stone pillar sticking out of the sea, and in S. Latitude
47 90, W. Longitude 126 430 come upon a coast-line of mingled mud, ooze,
and weedy Cyclopean masonry which can be nothing less than the tangible
substance of earth's supreme terror|the nightmare corpse-city of R'lyeh,
that was built in measureless aeons behind history by the vast, loathsome
shapes that seeped down from the dark stars. There lay great Cthulhu and
his hordes, hidden in green slimy vaults and sending out at last, after cycles
incalculable, the thoughts that spread fear to the dreams of the sensitive
21
and called imperiously to the faithful to come on a pilgrimage of liberation
and restoration. All this Johansen did not suspect, but God knows he soon
saw enough!
I suppose that only a single mountain-top, the hideous monolith-crowned
citadel whereon great Cthulhu was buried, actually emerged from the waters.
When I think of the extent of all that may be brooding down there I almost
wish to kill myself forthwith. Johansen and his men were awed by the cosmic
majesty of this dripping Babylon of elder daemons, and must have guessed
without guidance that it was nothing of this or of any sane planet. Awe
at the unbelievable size of the greenish stone blocks, at the dizzying height
of the great carven monolith, and at the stupefying identity of the colossal
statues and bas-reliefs with the queer image found in the shrine on the Alert,
is poignantly visible in every line of the mate's frightened description.
Without knowing what futurism is like, Johansen achieved something
very close to it when he spoke of the city; for instead of describing any
de nite structure or building, he dwells only on broad impressions of vast
angles and stone surfaces|surfaces too great to belong to any thing right
or proper for this earth, and impious with horrible images and hieroglyphs.
I mention his talk about angles because it suggests something Wilcox had
told me of his awful dreams. He said that the geometry of the dream-place
he saw was abnormal, non-Euclidean, and loathsomely redolent of spheres
and dimensions apart from ours. Now an unlettered seaman felt the same
thing whilst gazing at the terrible reality.
Johansen and his men landed at a sloping mud-bank on this monstrous
Acropolis, and clambered slipperily up over titan oozy blocks which could
have been no mortal staircase. The very sun of heaven seemed distorted
when viewed through the polarising miasma welling out from this sea-soaked
perversion, and twisted menace and suspense lurked leeringly in those crazily
elusive angles of carven rock where a second glance shewed concavity after
the rst shewed convexity.
Something very like fright had come over all the explorers before anything
more de nite than rock and ooze and weed was seen. Each would have

ed had he not feared the scorn of the others, and it was only half-heartedly
that they searched|vainly, as it proved|for some portable souvenir to bear
away.
It was Rodriguez the Portuguese who climbed up the foot of the monolith
and shouted of what he had found. The rest followed him, and looked
curiously at the immense carved door with the now familiar squid-dragon
bas-relief. It was, Johansen said, like a great barn-door; and they all felt
that it was a door because of the ornate lintel, threshold, and jambs around
it, though they could not decide whether it lay
at like a trap-door or slantwise
like an outside cellar-door. As Wilcox would have said, the geometry of
the place was all wrong. One could not be sure that the sea and the ground
were horizontal, hence the relative position of everything else seemed phan-
22
tasmally variable.
Briden pushed at the stone in several places without result. Then Donovan
felt over it delicately around the edge, pressing each point separately as
he went. He climbed interminably along the grotesque stone moulding|that
is, one would call it climbing if the thing was not after all horizontal|and
the men wondered how any door in the universe could be so vast. Then,
very softly and slowly, the acre-great panel began to give inward at the top;
and they saw that it was balanced. Donovan slid or somehow propelled himself
down or along the jamb and rejoined his fellows, and everyone watched
the queer recession of the monstrously carven portal. In this phantasy of
prismatic distortion it moved anomalously in a diagonal way, so that all the
rules of matter and perspective seemed upset.
The aperture was black with a darkness almost material. That tenebrousness
was indeed a positive quality; for it obscured such parts of the inner
walls as ought to have been revealed, and actually burst forth like smoke
from its aeon-long imprisonment, visibly darkening the sun as it slunk away
into the shrunken and gibbous sky on
apping membraneous wings. The
odour rising from the newly opened depths was intolerable, and at length
the quick-eared Hawkins thought he heard a nasty, slopping sound down
there. Everyone listened, and everyone was listening still when It lumbered
slobberingly into sight and gropingly squeezed Its gelatinous green immensity
through the black doorway into the tainted outside air of that poison
city of madness.
Poor Johansen's handwriting almost gave out when he wrote of this. Of
the six men who never reached the ship, he thinks two perished of pure
fright in that accursed instant. The Thing cannot be described|there is no
language for such abysms of shrieking and immemorial lunacy, such eldritch
contradictions of all matter, force, and cosmic order. A mountain walked
or stumbled. God! What wonder that across the earth a great architect
went mad, and poor Wilcox raved with fever in that telepathic instant?
The Thing of the idols, the green, sticky spawn of the stars, had awaked
to claim his own. The stars were right again, and what an age-old cult
had failed to do by design, a band of innocent sailors had done by accident.
After vigintillions of years great Cthulhu was loose again, and ravening for
delight.
Three men were swept up by the
abby claws before anybody turned.
God rest them, if there be any rest in the universe. They were Donovan,
Guerrera, and Angstrom. Parker slipped as the other three were plunging
frenziedly over endless vistas of green-crusted rock to the boat, and Johansen
swears he was swallowed up by an angle of masonry which shouldn't have
been there; an angle which was acute, but behaved as if it were obtuse. So
only Briden and Johansen reached the boat, and pulled desperately for the
Alert as the mountainous monstrosity
opped down the slimy stones and
hesitated
oundering at the edge of the water.
23
Steam had not been su ered to go down entirely, despite the departure of
all hands for the shore; and it was the work of only a few moments of feverish
rushing up and down between wheel and engines to get the Alert under way.
Slowly, amidst the distorted horrors of that indescribable scene, she began
to churn the lethal waters; whilst on the masonry of that charnel shore
that was not of earth the titan Thing from the stars slavered and gibbered
like Polypheme cursing the
eeing ship of Odysseus. Then, bolder than
the storied Cyclops, great Cthulhu slid greasily into the water and began to
pursue with vast wave-raising strokes of cosmic potency. Briden looked back
and went mad, laughing shrilly as he kept on laughing at intervals till death
found him one night in the cabin whilst Johansen was wandering deliriously.
But Johansen had not given out yet. Knowing that the Thing could
surely overtake the Alert until steam was fully up, he resolved on a desperate
chance; and, setting the engine for full speed, ran lightning-like on deck
and reversed the wheel. There was a mighty eddying and foaming in the
noisome brine, and as the steam mounted higher and higher the brave Norwegian
drove his vessel head on against the pursuing jelly which rose above
the unclean froth like the stern of a daemon galleon. The awful squidhead
with writhing feelers came nearly up to the bowsprit of the sturdy
yacht, but Johansen drove on relentlessly. There was a bursting as of an
exploding bladder, a slushy nastiness as of a cloven sun sh, a stench as of a
thousand opened graves, and a sound that the chronicler could not put on
paper. For an instant the ship was befouled by an acrid and blinding green
cloud, and then there was only a venomous seething astern; where|God in
heaven!|the scattered plasticity of that nameless sky-spawn was nebulously
recombining in its hateful original form, whilst its distance widened every
second as the Alert gained impetus from its mounting steam.
That was all. After that Johansen only brooded over the idol in the
cabin and attended to a few matters of food for himself and the laughing
maniac by his side. He did not try to navigate after the rst bold
ight, for
the reaction had taken something out of his soul. Then came the storm of
April 2nd, and a gathering of the clouds about his consciousness. There is
a sense of spectral whirling through liquid gulfs of in nity, of dizzying rides
through reeling universes on a comet's tail, and of hysterical plunges from
the pit to the moon and from the moon back again to the pit, all livened by
a cachinnating chorus of the distorted, hilarious elder gods and the green,
bat-winged mocking imps of Tartarus.
Out of that dream came rescue|the Vigilant, the vice-admiralty court,
the streets of Dunedin, and the long voyage back home to the old house by
the Egeberg. He could not tell|they would think him mad. He would write
of what he knew before death came, but his wife must not guess. Death
would be a boon if only it could blot out the memories.
That was the document I read, and now I have placed it in the tin box
beside the bas-relief and the papers of Professor Angell. With it shall go
24
this record of mine|this test of my own sanity, wherein is pieced together
that which I hope may never be pieced together again. I have looked upon
all that the universe has to hold of horror, and even the skies of spring and
the
owers of summer must ever afterward be poison to me. But I do not
think my life will be long. As my uncle went, as poor Johansen went, so I
shall go. I know too much, and the cult still lives.
Cthulhu still lives, too, I suppose, again in that chasm of stone which has
shielded him since the sun was young. His accursed city is sunken once more,
for the Vigilant sailed over the spot after the April storm; but his ministers
on earth still bellow and prance and slay around idol-capped monoliths in
lonely places. He must have been trapped by the sinking whilst within his
black abyss, or else the world would by now be screaming with fright and
frenzy. Who knows the end? What has risen may sink, and what has sunk
may rise. Loathsomeness waits and dreams in the deep, and decay spreads
over the tottering cities of men. A time will come|but I must not and
cannot think! Let me pray that, if I do not survive this manuscript, my
executors may put caution before audacity and see that it meets no other
eye.
25

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/








8^3



I



\



GRAPES OF WRATH



GRAPES OF
WRATH



BYt->,^*c„4.^..,'^.„

Cboyd cabled -

AUTHOR OP

•VBTWBBN THE LINES." "ACTION FRONT,"

AND "DOING THEIR BIT"



NEW YORK

E. P. DUTTON & CO.

(«1 FIFTH AVENUE






CdPTKOHT, 1917,
BT

B. F. DUTTON AND COMPANY



tinted in the United States of America



9



\--






H*



TO

ALL RANKS OF THE NEW ARMIES

Men of the Old Country^ Men of (he Over^
seas, and those good men among the
Neutrals who ptU aU else aside to join up
and help us to Victory ^ this book is dedi-
cated with pride and admiration by

THE AUTHOR
In ihs Fidd,
iOth January, 1917



X

S






THE AUTHOR'S ACKNOWLEDGMENT

Acknowledgments are due to the Editors of The Com-
hiU Magazine, Land and Water, and Pearson* 8 Magazine
for i>ermis8ion to reprint such portions of this book as
have appeared in their pages.



.r^:



BOYD CABLE— A PEEFATOET NOTE

The readers of Boyd Cable's '* Between the
Lines," "Action Front," and "Doing Their Bit,"
have very naturally had their curiosity exdted as
to an author who, previously unheard of, has sud-
denly become the foremost word-painter of active
fighting at the present day, and the greatest "lit-
erary discovery" of the War.

Boyd Cable is primarily a man of action ; and
for half of his not very long life he has been
doing things instead of writing them. At the age
of twenty he joined a corps of Scouts in ihe Boer
War, and saw plenty of fighting in South Africa.
After the close of that war, his life consisted
largely of traveling in Great Britain and the prin-
dlpal countries of Europe and the Mediterranean,
his choice always leading him from the beaten
track. He also spent some time in Australia and



BOYD CABLE— A PREFATORY NOTE

in New Zealand, not only in the cities, bnt in the
outposts of civilization, on the edge of the wilder-
ness, both there and in the Philippines, Java, and
other islands of the Pacific.

When he travels, Mr. Cable does not merely
take a steamer-berth or a railway-ticket and write
np his notes from an observation car or a saloon
deck. He looks ont after a job, and puts plenty
of energy into it while he is at it ; in fact, so many
different things has he done, that he says himself
that it is easier to mention the things he has not
done than the ones he has. He has been an ordi-
nary seaman, typewriter agent, a steamer-fireman,
office-manager, hobo, farmhand, gold prospector,
coach-driver, navvy, engine-driver, and many
other things. And strangely enough, though he
knows so much from practical experience, he has,
until recently, never thought of writing down
what he has seen.

Before this present War, he was on the staff
of a London advertising agency. At the outbreak
of hostilities, he offered his services and was ac-
cepted in 1914, being one of the first men not in
the regular army to get a commission and be sent
to the front.

It was his experience as ** Forward Officer'* (or






BOYD CABLE— A PREFATORY NOTE
observation officer in the artillery) that gave him

*

the material which he began to use in ** Between
the Lines/'

In this dangerous and responsible position, his
daily life of literally ** hairbreadth*' escapes af-
forded him experiences as thrilling as any he has
described in his books. On one occasion, for in-
stance, when his position had been ** spotted*' by
enemy sharp-shooters, he got a bullet through his
cap, one through his shoulder-strap, one through
the inside of his sleeve dose to his heart, and flfty-
three others near enough for him to hear them
pass — ^all in less than an hour.

After eighteen months of this death-defying
wor^ without even a wound, Mr. Boyd Cable was
naturally disgusted at being invalided home on
account of stomach trouble ; but it was only this
enforced leisure that gave him really time to take
up writing seriously. As may be remembered, the
British Government selected him officially to make
the rounds of the munijtion factories and write an
account of what was being done in them, with the
purpose of circulating it among the men at the
fronts to let them see that the workers at home
were "doing their bit.'*

The following letter has just been received



BOYD CABLE— A PREFATORY NOTE

from Mr. Boyd Cable by the publishers, and they
venture to include it here, entirely without the
writer's consent (since that would be impossible
to get within the necessary time), and fully realiz-
ing that the letter was not written with a view to
publication. They feel that it will give the reader
an intimate view of the author, such as no amoimt
of description or explanation could do.

* ^ . . Many thanks for all the trouble you have
taken trying to place my stories in magazines. It
certainly is odd that British in U. S. A. are not
more interested in the war. I only hope the
States won't have one of its own to be interested
in, but honestly I expect it within very few years.

I am very glad you like **Grapes of Wratti''
and hope the further chapters (which Smith,
Elder & Company tell me they have sent you)
will equally please. I may not tell you where I
am or what I'm doing since the Censor forbids,
but may just say that since I came out again I've
seen plenty of the Somme **Push" and have been
able to make ** Grapes of Wrath" the more acoa-
rate and up to date in details.

Now we're all awaiting the Spring with full
antidpations of going in for the last round and
the knook-out to Germany. We're all very con-
fident she can't stand the pace we've set for next
year.

We're having some bitter weather — ^fierce cold
and wet and snow, but we're putting up with it,
more or less cheered by the assurance that the



BOYD CABLE— A PEEFATOEY NOTE

Huns are feeling it every bit as bad as we are and
probably a bit worse.

With all regards and every good wish for the
coming year. . . .''

It only remains to add that the importance of
Mr. Boyd Cable's work may be judged by the fact
that of ** Between the Lines" considerably over a
hundred thousand copies have been printed in
Great Britain alone.

THE PUBLISHEES.



CONTENTS



I. Towards the Push ....... 15

II. The Overture of the Guns .... 26

in. The Edge of Battle 37

IV. Across the Open 60

V. On Captured Ground 69

VI. Taking Punishment 79

VII. Blind Man's Buff . 98

VIII. Over the Top 112

IX. A Side Show 134

X. The Counter Attack 152

XI. Forward Observing 179

XII. A Village and a Helbiet 201

XIII. With the Tanks 229

XIV. The Battle Hymn 244

XV. Casualties 253

XVI. Play out the Game 275



BATTLE HYMN OF THE REPUBLIC

Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord:
He is trampJmg out the vintage where the grapes of

uorath (ure stored,;
B.e hath loosed the fatal lightning of His terrible swift

sword:

His truth is marching on.

I have seen Him in the watch fires of a hundred circling

camps;
They have btUlded Him am, altar in the evening dews a/nd

damps:
I can redid His righteous sentence by the dim and flaring

lamps:

His day is marching on.

I have read a fiery gospel, writ in bum^hed rows of

steel:
**As ye decA with My contemners, so with you My grace

shall deaV;
Let the Hero, bom of wonum, crush the serpent u)ith His

heel!

Since Ood is m^arching on!

He has sounded forth the trumpet that shall never caU

retreat,
He is sifting out the hearts of men before His judgment

seat;
Oh! be swift, my soul, to answer Him! be jubilamt, my

feet!

Our Ood is marching on.



«



BATTLE HYMN OF THE REPUBLIC

In the beauty of the UUes Christ wca horn, across the

sea,
With a glory in His bosom that tra^nsfigures you amd

me;
As He died to make msn holy, let us die to make man

free,

While Ood is marching on.

He is coming like the glory of the morning on the UHwe;
He is wisdom to the mighty, He is succor to the brave;
So the world shaU be His footstool and the soul of tims
His slave:

Our Ood is marching on.

JuuA Wabd Howe.



AUTHOR'S FOEEWORD

It is possible that this book may be taken for an
actual account of the Somme battle, but I warn
readers that although it is in the bulk based on
the fighting there and is no doubt colored by the
fact that the greater part of it was written in the
Somme area or between visits to it, I make no
daim for it as history or as an historical account.
My ambition was the much lesser one of describ-
ing as well as I could what a Big Push is like from
the point of view of an ordinary average infantry
private, of showing how much he sees and knows
and suffers in a great battle, of giving a
glimpse perhaps of the spirit that animates the
New Armies, the endurance that has made them
more than a match for the Germans, the accept-
ance of appalling and impossible horrors as the
work-a-day business and routine of battle, the
discipline and training that has fused such a mix-
ture of material into tempered fighting metal.
For the tale itself, I have tried to put into words



AUTHOR ^S FOREWORD

merely the sort of story that might and could be
told by thousands of our men to-day. I hope^ in
fact, I have so *Hold the tale^' that such men as
I have written of may be able to put this book in
your hands and say : ' * This chapter just describes
our crossing the open,'' or **That is how we were
shelled,'' or **I felt the same about my Blighty
one."

It may be that before this book is complete in
print another, a greater, a longer and bloodier,
and a last battle may be begun, and I wish this
book may indicate the kind of men who will be
fighting it, the stout hearts they will bring to the
fight, the manner of faith and assurance they
will feel in Victory, complete and final to the gain-
ing of such Peace terms as we may demand.

The Authob.

In the Field
20th January, 1917.



GRAPES OF WRATH



CHAPTER I

TOWABDS THE PtJSH

The rank and file of the 5/6 Service Battalion of
the Stonewalls knew that ^* there was another
push on,'^ and that they were moving up some-
where into the push; but beyond that and the
usual crop of wild and loose-running rumors they
knew nothing. Some of the men had it on the
most exact and positive authority that they were
for the front line and ** first over the parapef ;
others on equally positive grounds knew that they
were to be in reserve and not in the attack at all ;
that they were to be in support and follow the
first line ; that there was to be nothing more than
an artillery demonstration and no infantry attack
at all ; that the French were taking over our line
for the attack; that we were taking over the
French line. The worst of it was that there were
so many tales nobody could believe any of them,

15



16 GRAPES OF WEATH

but, strangely enough, that did not lessen the eager
interest with which each in turn was heard and
discussed, or prevent each in tun; securing a num-
ber of supporters and believers.

But all the rumors appeared to be agreed that
up to now the push had not begun, so far as the
infantry were concerned, and also that, as Larry
Arundel put it, ^* judging by the row the guns are
making it's going to be some push when it does
come/'

The Stonewalls had been marching up towards
the front by easy stages for three days past, and
each day as they marched, and, in fact, each hour
of this last day, the uproar of artillery fire had
grown steadily greater and greater, until now the
air trembled to the violent concussions of the guns,
the shriek and rumble of the shells, and occasion-
ally to the more thrilling and heart-shaking shriek
of an enemy shell, and the crash of its burst in our
lines.

It was almost sunset when the Stonewalls
swung off the road and halted in and about a
little orchard. The lines of an encampment —
which was intended for no more than a night's
bivouac — ^were laid out, and the men unbuckled
their straps, laid off their packs, and sank thank-



TOWARDS THE PUSH 17

fully to easeful positions of rest on the long grass,
waiting until the traveling cookers, which on their
journey along the road had been preparing the
evening meal, were brought up and discharged of
their savory contents. But before the meal was
served there came an unpleasant interruption,
which boded ill for the safety of the night *s camp.
A heavy shell rushed overhead, dropped in the
field about four hundred yards beyond the camp,
burst with a crash and a gush of evil black smoke,
a flying torrent of splinters and up-flung earth.

While the men were still watching the slow dis-
persal of the shell smoke, and passing comments
upon how near to them was the line it had taken,
another and another shell whooped over them in
a prolonged line on the fields beyond. * * We seem^ ^ '
said Larry Arundel, **to have chosen a mighty
unhealthy position for to-night's rest.''

*^If the CO. has any sense,*' retorted his mate,
Billy Simson, **he'll up and off it somewheres out
to the flank. We're in the direct line of those
ommps, and if one drops short, it is going to knock
the stuflSn' out of a whole heap of us."

While they were talking an artillery subaltern
was seen crossing the road and hurrying towards



18 GRAPES OF WEATH

them. '* Where is your CO.?*' he asked, when he
came to the nearest group.

*'Over in the orchard, sir,** said Billy Simson.
*' 1*11 show you if you like.**

The officer accepted his pilotage, urging him to
hurry, and the two hastened to the orchard, and
to a broken-down building in the comer of it,
where the officers of the battalion were installing
a more or less open-air mess.

BiUy Simson lingered long enough to hear the
Subaltern introduce himself as from a battery in
a position across the road amongst some farm
buildings, and to say that his Major had sent him
over to warn the infantry that the field they were
occupying was in a direct line ** regularly strafed**
by a heavy German battery every few hours.

'*My Major said I was to tell you,** went on the
Subaltern, *Hhat there are one or two old bams
and outbuildings on the farm where we have the
battery, and that you might find some sort of shel-
ter for a good few of your men in them ; and that
we can find room to give you and some of the
officers a place to shake down for the night.**

Simson heard no more than this, but he soon had
evidence that the invitation had been accepted.
The battalion was warned to ** stand by** for a



TOWAEDS THE PUSH 19

move across the road, and the Colonel and Adjn-
tant) with the Sergeant-Major and a couple of
Sergeants, left the orchard and disappeared
among the farm bmldingSy in the company of the
gunner Subaltern.

Billy Simson repeated to his particular chums
the conversation he had overheard; and the re-
sulting high expectations of a move from the un-
healthy locality under the German guns' line of
fire, and of a roof over their heads for the night,
were ^presently fulfilled by an order for the bat-
talion to move company by company. "C" Com-
pany presently found itself installed in a commo-
dious bam, with ventilation plentifully provided
by a huge hole, obviously broken out by a shell
burst, in the one comer, and a roof with tiles lib-
erally smashed and perforated by shrapnel fire.
But on the whole the men were well content with
the change, partly perhaps because being come
of a long generation of house-dweUers they had
never become accustomed to the real pleasure of
sleeping in the open air, and partly because of
that curious and instinctive and wholly misplaced
confidence inspired by four walls and a roof as a
protection against shell fire.

Somewhere outside and very close to them a



20 GEAPES OF WRATH

field battery was in action, and for a whole hour
before darkness fell the air pulsed and the crazy
buildings about them shook to an unceasing thump
and bang from the firing guns, while the intervals
were filled with the slightly more distant but
equally constant thud and boom of other batteries ^
fire.

While they were waiting for the evening meal
to be served some of the men wandered out and
took up a position where they could view closely
the guns and gunners at their work. The guns
were planted at intervals along a high hedge ; the
muzzles poked through the leafy screen, and a
shelter of leaves and boughs was rigged over each,
so as to screen the battery from air observation.

Billy Simson and his three particular chums
were amongst the interested spectators. The four
men, who were drawn from classes that in pre-war
days would have made any idea of friendship or
even intercourse most unlikely, if not impossible,
had, after a fashion so common in our democratic
New Armies, become fast friends and intimates.

Larry Arundel, aged twenty, was a man of good
family, who in civilian days had ocQupied a seat in
his father's office in London, with the certain pros-
pect before him of a partnership in the firm. Billy



TOWAEDS THE PUSH 21

Simson was a year or two older, had been educated
in a provincial board school, and from the age of
fourteen had served successively as errand boy
and counter hand in a little suburban ^'empo-
rium/' The third man, Ben Sneath, age unknown,
but probably somewhere about twenty-one to
twenty-five, was frankly of the *4ower orders'' ;
had picked up a living from the time he was able
to walk, in the thousand and one ways that a Lon-
don street boy finds to his hand. On the roll of
*'C" Company he was Private Sneath, B, but to
the whole of the company — and, in fact, to the
whole of the battalion — ^he was known briefly, but
descriptively, as *'Pug." Jefferson Lee, the
fourth of the quartette, was an unusual and some-
what singular figure in a British battalion, be-
cause, always openly proud of his birthplace, he
was seldom called by anything but it — '^ Ken-
tucky,*' or **Kentuck." His speech, even in the
wild jumble of accents and dialects common
throughout a mixed battalion, was striking and
noticeable for its peculiar softness and slurring
intonations, its smooth gentleness, its quiet, drawl-
ing level. Being an American, bom of many gen-
erations of Americans, with no single tie or known
relation outside America, he was, in his stained



22 GRAPES OF WRATH

khaki and his place in the fighting ranks of a
British regiment, a personal violation of the neu-
trality of the United States. But the reasons that
had brought him from Kentucky to England, with
the clear and expressed purpose of enlisting for
the war, were very simply explained by him.

**Some of us,'' he said gently, *^ never really
agreed with the sinking of liners and the murder
of women and children. Some of us were a trifle
ashamed to be standing out of this squabble, and
when the President told the world that we were
*too proud to fight,' I just simply had to prove
that it was a statement which did not agree with
the traditions of an old Kentucky family. So I
came over and enlisted in your army."

The attitude of the four men now as they
watched the gunners at work was almost char-
acteristic of each. Larry, who had relatives or
friends in most branches of the Service, was able
to tell the others something of the methods of
modem artillery, and delivered almost a lecturette
.upon the subject. Billy Simson was frankly bored
by this side of the subject, but intensely interested
in the noise and the spectacular blinding flash that
appeared to leap forth in a twenty-foot wall of
flame on the discharge of each gun. Pug found



TOWAEDS THE PUSH 23

a subject for mirth and quick, bantering jests in )
the attitudes of the gunners and their movements
about the gun, and the stentorian shoutings v
through a megaphone of the Sergeaut-Major from
the entrance to a dug-out in the rear of the guns.
Lee sat down, leisurely rolled and lit a cigarette,
watched the proceedings with interest, and made
only a very occasional soft drawled reply to the

remarks of the others.

**Do you mean to- tell me,^' said Pug incredu-
lously, breaking in on ArundePs lecture, **that
them fellows is shootin' off all them shells with-
out ever seein' what they^re firin^ at! If that is
true, I calls it bloondn' waste. '^

**They do not see their target, '' said Arundel^}
*^but they are hitting it every time. You see they
aim at something else, and they're told how much
to the right or left of it to shoot, and the range /
they are to shoot at — it is a bit too complicated to
explain properly, but it gets the target all right. ' '

**Wot's the bloke with the tin trumpet whis- ,
perin' about f asked Pug. ** Looks to me as if
he was goin' to be a casualty with a broke blood-
vessel. ' '

** Passing orders and corrections of fire to the
guns,'' explained Arundel. '* There's a telephone



y



24 GEAPES OF WEATH

wire from that dug-out up to somewhere in front,
where somebody can see the shells falling, and
'phone back to tell them whether they are over or
short, right or left.''

*'It's pretty near as good as a Brock's benefit
night," said Billy Simson; *^but I'd want cotton
wool plugs in my ears, if I was takin' up lodgin's
in this street."

The light was beginning to fade by now, but the
guns continued to fire in swift rotation, from one
end of the battery to the other. They could hear
the. sharp orders, * * One, fire ; Two, fire ; Three,
fire, ' ' could see the gunner on his seat beside each
piece jerk back the lever. Instantly the gun flamed
a sheet of vivid fire, the piece recoiled violently
to the rear between the gunners seated to each
side of it, and as the breech moved smoothly back
to its position, the hand of one gunner swooped
rapidly in after it, grabbed the handle and
wrenched open the breech, flinging out the shin-
ing brass cartridge case, to fall with a clash and
jangle on to the trail of the gun and the other
empty cases lying round it. The instant the breech
was back in place, another man shot in a fresh
shell, the breech swung shut with a sharp, metallic
clang, the layer, with his eye pressed dose to his



TOWAEDS THE PUSH 25

sights juggled for a moment with his hands on
shiny brass wheels, lifted one hand to drop it
again on the lever, shouted ** Ready,'' and sat
waiting the order to fire. The motions and the
action at one gun were exactly and in detail the
motions of all. From end to end of the line the
flaming wall leaped in turn from each muzzle, the
piece jarred backwards, the empty brass case
jerked out and fell tinkling ; and before it ceased
to roll another shell was in place, the breech
clanged home, and the gun was ready again.

Billy Simson spoke to a gunner who was mov-
ing past them towards the billets.

^*What are you fellows shooting at?" he asked.

*'Wire cutting,'' said the gunner briefly.
** We've been at it now without stopping this past
four days, ' ' and he moved on and left them.

** Wire cutting," said Arundel, ** sweeping away
the barbed wire entanglements in front of the
Boche trench. That's clearing the track we're
going to take to-morrow or the next day."

**I hopes they makes a clean job of it," said
Pug; **and I hopes they sweep away some of
them blasted machine guns at the same time."

**Amen, to that," said Kentucky.



CHAPTEE n

THE OVBBTXJBB OF THE GTTK8

All that night the meiiy packed close in their
hlanketSy slept as hest they could, but continually
were awakened by the roaring six-gun salvos firom
the battery beside them.

One of the gunners had explained that they
were likely to hear a good deal of shooting during
the night, *'the notion being to bust off six shells
every now and again with the guns laid on the
wire we were shooting at in daylight. If any
Boche crawls out to repair the wire in the dark, he
never knows the minute he's going to get it in the
neck from a string of shells. ''

**And how does it work!" asked the interested
Arundel.

*^ First rate,'' answered the gunner. ^'Them
that's up at the O.P.^ says that when they have
looked out each morning there hasn 't been a sign
or a symptom of new wire going up, and, of

^Obsenration Post.



THE OVERTURE OF THE GUNS 27

course, there 's less chance than ever of repairing
in daytime. A blue-bottle fly — ^let alone a Boche
— couldn't crawl out where we're wire-cuttiiig
without getting filled as fuU of holes as a second-
hand sieve."

The salvos kept the barnful of men awake for
the first hour or two. The intervals of firing were
purposely irregular, and varied from anything be-
tween three to fifteen minutes. The^inf antry, with
a curious but common indifference to the future as
compared to the present, were inclined to grumble
at this noisy interruption of their slumbers, until
Arundel explained to some of them the full pur-
pose and meaning of the firing.

^*Seein' as that's 'ow it is," said Pug, '^I don't
mind 'ow noisy they are ; if their bite is anything
like as good as their bark, it 's all helpin ' to keep
a clear track on the road we've got to take pres-
ently."

'^ Those gunners," said Kentucky, ** talked
about this shooting match having kept on for four
days and nights continuous, but they didn't know,
or they wouldn 't say, if it was over yet, or likely
to be finished soon."

**The wust of this blinkin' show," said Billy
Simson, '*is that nobody seems to know nothin',



28 GRAPES OF WRATH

and the same people seem to care just about the
same amount about anythin \ ^ '

**Come off it,'* said Pug; *^ here's one that cares
a lump. The sooner we gets on to the straff and
gets our bit done and us out again the better
I'll be pleased. From what the Quarter-bloke
says, we're goin' to be kep' on the bully and
biscuit ration until we comes out of action ; so roll
on with comin' out of action, and a decent dinner
of fresh meat and potatoes and bread again."

^'There's a tidy few," said Billy, ''that won't
be lookin' for no beef or bread when they comes
out of action."

''Go on," said Pug; * that's it; let's be cheer-
ful. We'll all be killed in the first charge; and
the attack will be beat back ; and the Germans will
break our line and be at Calais next week, and
bombarding London the week after. Go on; see
if you can think up some more cheerf uls. ' '

**Pug is kind of right," said Kentucky; '*but
at the same time so is Billy. It's a fair bet that
some of us four will stop one. If that should be
my luck, I 'd like one of you, ' ' he glanced at Arun-
del as he spoke, **to write a line to my folks in
old Kentucky, just easing them down and saying
I went out quite easy and cheerful. ' '



*y



THE OVEBTUEE OF THE GUNS 29

Pug snorted disdainfully. ** Seems to me,'' he
said, ^*the bloke that expec's it is fair askin' for
it. I'm not askin' nobody to write off no last
dyin' speeches for me, even if I 'ad anybody to
say 'em to, which 1 'aven't."

* * Anyhow, Kentucky, ' ' said Arundel, * ^ I '11 write
down your address, if you will take my people's.
What about you, Billy!"

Billy shuffled a little uneasily. *' There's a
girl, ' ' he said, * * one girl partikler, that might like
to 'ear, and there's maybe two or three others
that I'd like to tell about it. You'll know the sort
of thing to say. I '11 give you the names, and you
might tell 'em" — he hesitated a moment — ^**I
know, * the last word he spoke was Eose — or
Gladys, or Mary,' sendin' the Eose one to Eose,
and so on, of course."

Arundel grinned, and Pug guffawed openly.
**What a lark," he laughed, ''if Larry mixes 'em
up and tells Eose the last word you says was
'Gladys,' and tells Gladys that you faded away
murmurin' 'Gobd-by, Eose.' "

"I don't see anythin' to laugh at,' said Billy
huffily. "Eose is the partikler one, so you might
put in a bit extra in hers, but it will please the
others a whole heap. They don 't know each other.



30 GRAPES OP WEATH

so they will never know I sent the other messages,
and I'll bet that each of 'em will cart that letter
round to show it to all her pals, and they'll cry
their eyes out, and have a real enjoyable time
over it. ' '

Arundel laughed now. ** Queer notions your
girls have of enjoyment, Billy," he said.

**I know 'em," insisted Billy; **and I'm right
about it. I knew a girl once that was goin' to be
married to a chum o' mine, and he ups and dies,
and the girl 'ad to take the tru-sox back to the
emporium and swop it for moumin'; and the
amount of fussin' and cryin'-over that girl got
was somethin' amazin', and I bet she wouldn't
have missed it for half a dozen 'usbands ; and, be-
sides, she got another 'usband easy enough about
two months after." He concluded triumphantly,
and looked round as if challenging contradiction.

Outside, the battery crashed again, and the
crazy building shook about them to the sound.
A curious silence followed the salvo, because by
some chance the ranked batteries, strung out to
either side of them, had chosen the same interval
between their firing. Most of the men in the barn
had by this time sunk to sleep, but at the silence
they stirred uneasily, and many of them woke and



THE OVEBTUEE OF THE GUNS 31

raised themselves on their elbows, or sat up to
inquire sleepily **What was wrong nowt" or
'*What was the matter t^^ With the adaptability
under which men live in the fire zone, and with-
out which, in fact, they could hardly live and keep
their senses, they had in the space of an hour br
two become so accustomed to the noise of the
cannonade that its cessation had more power to
wake them than its noisiest outbursts ; and when,
after the silence had lasted a few brief minutes,
the batteries began to speak again, they turned
over or lay down and slid off into heedless sleep.
Somewhere about midnight there was another
awakening, and this time from a different cause —
a difference that is only in the note and nature of
the constant clamor of fire. Throughout the
night the guns had practically the say to them-
selves, bombs and rifles and machine guns alike
being beaten down into silence; but at midnight
something — some alarm, real or fancied — ^woke
the rifles to a burst of frenzied activity. The first
few stuttering reports swelled quickly to a long
drum-like rolL The machine guns caught up the
chorus, and rang through it in racketing and clat-
tering bursts of fire. The noise grew with the
minutes, and spread and spread, until it seemed



32 GRAPES OF WRATH

that the whole lines were engaged for miles in a
desperate conflict

Arundel, awakened by the clamor, sat up. **Is
anybody awake f he asked in low tones, and in-
stantly a dozen voices around him answered.

**Is it the attack, do you supposed asked one,
and a mild argument arose on the question, some
declaring that they — ^the Stonewalls — ^would not
be left to sleep there in quietness if our line were
commencing the push; others maintaining that
secrecy was necessary as to the hour planned, be-
cause otherwise the Boches would be sure to know
it, and be ready for the attack.

** Maybe, '^ some one ventured the opinion, *4t's
them that's attacking us.** But this wild theorist
was promptly laughed out of court, it being the
settled conviction apparently of his fellows that
the Boche would not dare to attack when he knew
from the long bombardment that our lines must be
heavily held.

As the argument proceeded, Arundel felt a
touch on his elbow, heard the soft, drawling voice
of Kentucky at his ear.

**I*m going to take a little pasear outside, and
just see and hear anything I can of the proceed-
ings."



THE OVEETUBE OF THE GUNS 33

"Eight,*' said Arundel promptly. **I'm with
you; I^m not a bit sleepy, and we might find out
something of what it all means. * *

The two slipped on their boots, moved quietly
to the door, and stepped outside.

They walked round the end of the bam to where
they could obtain a view dear of the building and

ft

out towards the front, and stood there some min-
utes in silence, watching and listening. A gentle
rise in the ground and the low crest of a hill hid
the trenches on both sides from their view, and
along this crest line showed a constant quivering,
pulsing flame of pale yellow light, dear and vivid
along its lower edge, and showing up in hard,
black silhouette every detail of the sky-line, every
broken tree stump, every ragged fragment of a
building's wall, every bush and heap of earth.
Above the crest the light faded and vignetted off
softly into the darkness of the night, a darkness
that every now and then was wiped out to the
height of half the sky by a blinding flash of light,
that winked and vanished and winked again and
again, as the guns on both sides blazed and flung
their shells unseeing but unerring to their mark.

Larry and Kentucky heard a call in the battery
near them, the quick rush of running feet, a sue-



34 GRAPES OF WRATH

cession of sharp, shouted orders. The next in-
stanty with a crash that made them jump, the six
gnns of the battery spoke with one single and
instantaneous voice. In the momentary gush of
flame from the muzzles, and of yellow light, that
blotted out aU other lights, the two men saw in
one quick glimpse the hedge, the leafy screens
above the guns, the guns themselves, and the gun-
ners grouped about them. Out to their right,
a moment after the darkness had flashed down
again over the battery, a neighboring group of
guns gave tongue in a rapid succession of evenly
spaced reports. This other battery itself was
hidden from the two watchers, but because of its
nearness, the flashes from it also flung a blinding
radiance upward into the night, reveaUng the out-
lines of every roof and building, hedge and tree,
that stood against the sky.

Their own battery, in answer to a hoarse bel-
lowing from the megaphone of ''Section Fire —
5 seconds," commenced to pound out a stream of
shells from gun after gun. Away to right and
left of them the other batteries woke and added
their din to the infernal chorus. The shells from
other and farther-back batteries were rushing and



THE OVERTURE OF THE GUNS 35

screaming overhead, and dying away in thin wait-
ings and whistlings in the distance.

Another and different note struck in, rising this
time from a shrill scream to a londer and lender
and more savage roar, and ending with an earth-
shaking crash and the shriek of flying splinters. A
shell had burst a bare hundred yards from where
the two stood, hurling some of its fragments over
and past them to rap with savage emphasis on
the stone and brick of the farm building.

Larry and Kentucky ducked hastily, and ran
crouching to the comer of their barn, as another
shrill whistle and rush warned them of the ap-
proaching shell. This time it burst farther off,
and although the two waited a full fifteen minutes,
no other shell came near, though along the crest
of the sky-line they could see quick-flashing burst
after burst and thick, billowing clouds of smoke
rising and drifting blackly against the background
of light beyond the slope.

The tornado of shell fire beat the rifles down
again to silence after some minutes. The rolling
rifle fire and clatter of machine guns died away
gradually, to no more than an occasional splutter,
and then to single shots. After that the artillery
slowed down to a normal rate of fire, a steady



36 GRAPES OF WRATH

succession of bangs and thuds and rumblings, that,
after the roaring tempest of noise of the past few
minutes, were no more than comparative quiet

^'I'm glad we came out,'' said Larry; **it was
quite a decent little show for a bit.''

Kentucky peered at him curiously. '*Did it
strike you," he said, **the number of guns there
were loosing off in that little show, and that most
of those the other side are going to be doing their
darnedest to spoil our little show, when it comes
/ the time for us to be over the parapet t"

**I suppose that's so," admitted Larry; **but
then, you see, our guns will be doing the same by
them, so the game ought to be even so far as that
goes. ' '

**The game!" repeated Kentucky reflectively.
* ' I notice quite a few of you boys talk of it as * a
game,' or *the game'; I wonder whyt"

* * I don 't know, ' ' said Larry, * * except that — oh,
well — ^just because it is a game, a beastly enough
one, I'll admit, but still a game that the best side
is going to win."

**The best side — — " said Kentucky, ^^ meaning,
I suppose, you — ^us t ' '

**Why, of course," said Larry, with utter and
unquestioning confidence.



CHAPTER in



THE EDGE OF BATTLE



The men were awakened early next morning, and
turned out, to find a gray, misty dawn. One might
have supposed that in the mist it would have been
impossible for the gunners to observe and direct
any fire, but for all that the artillery on both sides
were fairly heavily engaged, and the hangings
and thumpings and rumblings rolled away to right
and left, until they died down in the distance into
the dull, muffled booming of a heavy surf beating
on a long beach.

The Stonewalls breakfasted hastily on biscuits,
cheese, jam, and tea, were formed up, and moved
on to the road. They marched slowly up this
in the direction of the front, and presently found
the mist clearing away and then dispersing rap-
idly under the rays of the rising sun. It seemed
as if the first beams of sunrise were a signal to
the artillery, for the gunfire speeded up and up,
until it beat in one long reverberating roar on the

37



38 GEAPES OF WEATH

trembling air. The firing was not all from our
side either ; although for the moment none of the
enemy shells dropped very close to the Stonewalls,
there were enough of them sufficiently close to be
unpleasantly startling, and to send their frag-
ments whistling and whining over their hastily
ducking heads.



About seven o'clock a new note began to run
through the bellowing of the guns — ^the sharp,
more staccato sound of the rifles and machine
guns, the distinctive bang of bombs and hand-
grenades. The rifle fire, hesitant and spasmodic
at first, swelled suddenly to a loud, deep, drum-
ming roll, hung there for several minutes, pitched
upward again to a still louder tone, then sank and
died away, until it was drowned out in the re-
doubled clamor of the guns.

The Stonewalls were halted and moved into the
side of the road, and squatted lining the ditches
and banks, listening to the uproar, discussing and
speculating upon its meaning.

* * Sounded like an attack, sure thing, * * said Ken-
tucky, **but whether our side is pushing or being
pushed I have not a notion. ' '

*^ Probably ours,'' said Larry; ^Hhe yarn was



THE EDGE OF BATTLE 39

going that we were to attack this morning, al-
though some said it was for to-morrow. ' ^

' * Anyway, ^ ^ said Pug, * ' if our lot *as gone over
they've either got it in the neck, and 'ad to 'ook
it back again, or else they're over the No-Man 's-
Land, and into the fust line. ' '
. ^^That's what," said Billy Simson. *'And 'ark
at the bombs and 'and-grenades bustin ' off nine-
teen to the dozen. That means we're bombin' our
way along the trenches and chuckin' 'em down
into the dug-outs. ' '

It was true that the distinctive sound of the
bursting bombs had risen again to a renewed ac-
tivity, and from somewhere further up or down
the line the rifle fire commenced again, and rose
to one long, continuous full-bodied roar. The
sound spread and beat down in rolling waves
nearer and nearer, ran outward again on both
flanks, continued loud and unceasing.

The Stonewalls were formed up and moved on
again, and presently came upon, and marched into,
the ruined fragments of a village, with shattered
and tumble-down houses lining the sides of the
road. They began to notice a new and significant
sound, the thin whistling and piping of bullets
passing high over their heads, the smack and






40 GEAPES OF WEATH

crack of an occasional one catching some upper
portion of the ruined houses past which they
marched. Here, too, they began to meet the first
of the backwash of battle, the limping figures of
men with white bandages about their heads, arms,
and bodies; the still forms at full length on the
sagging, reddened stretchers. At one of the
houses in the village a Eed Cross flag hung limp
over a broken archway, and through this the pro-
cession passed in an ever-quickening stream.

The village street rose to the crest of a gentle
slope, and when the Stonewalls topped the rise,
and began to move down the long gentle decline
on the other side, they seemed to step from the
outer courts into the inner chambers of war. Men
hung about the broken fragments of the buildings ;
ammunition carts were drawn up in angles and
comers of the remaining walls ; a couple of am-
bulances jolted slowly and carefully up the hill
towards them; the road was pittedSnd cratered
with shell holes ; the trees, that lined both sides of
it, trailed broken branches and jagged ends of
smashed off trunks, bore huge white scars and
patches, and strewed the road with showers of
leaves and twigs. The houses of the village, too,
on this side of the slope, had been reduced to utter



THE EDGE OF BATTLE 41

min. Only here and there were two- or three-
sided portions of a honse still standing; the rest
were no more than heaped aad tangled rubbish-
heaps of stone and brick, broken beams and wood-
worky shattered pieces of furniture, and litter of
red tiles.

By now the bullets were singing and whisking
overhead, crackling with vicious emphasis against
the trees and walls. And now, suddenly and with-
out the slightest warning, four shells rushed and
crashed down upon the road amongst the ruined
buildings. The men who had been hanging about
in the street vanished hastily into such cover as
they could find, and the Stonewalls, tramping
steadily down the shell-smashed, rubbish-strewn
street, flinched and ducked hastily to the quick
rush and crash of another string of shells. An
order was passed back, and the column divided
into two, half taking one side of the road, and half
the other ; the rear halting and lying down, while
the front moved off by platoons, with some fifty
to a hundred yards between each.

A German battery was evidently making a tar-
get of this portion of the road, for the shells con-
tinued to pound up and down its length. After the
sharp burst of one quartette fairly between the



42 GEAPES OF WEATH

ranks of a marching platoon, there was a call for
stretchers, and the regimental stretcher-bearers
came up at the double, busied themselves for a few
minutes about some cnmipled forms, lifted them,
and moved off along the road back to the Bed
Cross flag of the dressing station. The shell-
swept stretch of road was growing uncomfortably
dangerous, and it was with a good deal of relief
that the Stonewalls saw their leading platoon turn
aside and disappear into the entrance of a com-
munication trench.

*'This ^ere,'^ said Pug, with a sigh of satisfac-
tion, **is a blinkin^ sight more like the thing; and
why them lazy beggars of a Staff 'aven't ^ad this
communication trench took back a bit further beats
me.''

"It sure is a comfortable feeling,'' agreed Ken-
tucky, 'Ho hear those bullets whistling along up-
stairs, and we safe down below ground-level."

The communication trench was very narrow and
twisted, and wormed its way for an interminable
distance towards the still constant rattle of rifle
fire and banging grenades. The men had not the
slightest idea what had happened, or what was
happening. Some of them had asked questions of
the stretcher-bearers or of the wounded back in



THE EDGE OF BATTLE 43

the village, but these it appeared had come from
the support trenches and from the firing-line be-
fore the uproar of rifle fire had indicated the
commencement of an attack by one side or the
other. The long, straight, single-file line of Stone-
walls moved slowly and with frequent checks and
halts for over an hour ; then they were halted and
kept waiting for a good thirty minutes, some chaf-
ing at their inaction, others perfectly content to
sit there in the safety of the deep trench. A few
men tried to raise themselves and climb the
straight^sided walls of the trench to the level
ground, but the long grass growing there still hid
their view, and the few who would have climbed
right out on to the level were sharply reprimanded
and ordered back by the officers and N.C.O.s ; so
the line sat or stood leaning against the walls,
listening to the unintelligible sounds of the con-
flict, trying to glean some meaning and under-
standing of the action's progress from them.

The section of trench where Larry and his
friends were waiting was suddenly overcast by a
shadow, and the startled men, glancing hastily
upward, saw to their astonishment a couple of
Highlanders standing over and looking down upon
them. One had a red, wet bandage about his head,



44 GBAPES OF WEATH

the other his hose-top slit down and dangling
about his ankle, and a white bandage wound round
the calf of his leg. The two stood for a minute
looking down upon the men crouching and squat-
ting in their shelter, on men too astonished for the
moment to speak or do aught save gape upwards
at the two above them. Somehow, after their relief
at escaping from the open into the shelter of the
trench, after the doubts and misgivings with which
some of them had ventured to raise themselves
and peer out above ground level, the angry orders
given to them to get back and not expose them-
selves, after having, in fact, felt themselves for an
hour past to be separate only from a sudden and
violent death by the depth of their shelter trench,
it took their 'breath away to see two men walking
about and standing with apparent unconcern upon
a bullet-swept level, completely without protec-
tion, indifferent to that fact But they recovered
quickly from their amazement.

*' Holloa, Jock,'' Pug called up to them, *^ what's
the latest news in the dispatches! 'Ave we com-
menced the attack t"

** Commenced t Aye, and gey near finished, as
far as we're concerned."

There was a quick chorus of questions to this.



THE EDGE OF BATTLE 45

**How far had we gonef **Was the first line
taken t" *'Was the attack pushing onf **Had
the casualties been heavy f and a score of other
questions.

The two Highlanders bobbed down hastily, as
a heavy shell fell with a rolling cr-r-r-funp within
a hundred yards of them.

**WeVe got the first line where we attacked,"
said one of them after a moment, ^^and we're
pushing on to the second. They say that we have
taken the second and third lines down there on the
right, but the Huns are counter-attacking, and
have got a bit of the third line back. I 'm no ' sure
what's happened on the left, but I'm hearin' the
attack was held, and pretty near wiped out. I
only ken that our lot is tryin' to bomb up there to
the left, and no' makin' much progress."

His companion rose and stepped across the nar-
row trench.

"Come on, Andy," he said, **we'll awa' back to
the dressin' station, and the first train to the
North. This is no ' just a health resort to be bidin '
in. Good luck to you, lads. ' '

**Good luck, so long," chorused the trench after
fhem, and the two vanished from sight.

There was a buzz of excited talk after they had



46 GRAPES OF WEATH

gone — ^talk that lasted until word was passed back
along the trench and the line rose and commenced
to stumble onward again.

**I suppose/' said Larry, ** they'll be moving us
up in support. I hope we get out of this beastly
trench soon, and see something of what's going
on."

Billy Simson grunted. * ' Maybe we '11 see plenty,
and maybe a bit too much, when we get out of
here,'' he said, *'and it is decently safe down
here anyhow. ' '

Pug snorted. ^^Safef" he echoed; **no safer
than it is above there, by the look of them two
Jocks. They don't seem to be worritin' much
about it being safe. I believe we would be all
right to climb up out of this sewer and walk like
bloomin' two-legged humans above ground, in-
stead of crawling along 'ere like rats in a 'Ampton
Court maze of drains."

But, whether they liked it or not, the Stonewalls
were condemned to spend most of that day in
their drains. They moved out at last, it is true,
from the communication trench into one of the
support trenches, and from this they could catch
an occasional narrow glimpse of the battlefield.
They were little the wiser for that, partly because



THE EDGE OF BATTLE 47

the view gave only a restricted vision of a maze of
twisting lines of parapets, of which they could tell
no difference between British and German; of
tangles of rusty barbed wire; and, beyond these
things, of a drifting haze of smoke, of puffing
white bursts of cotton wool-like smoke from shrap-
nel, and of the high explosives spouting gushes of
heavy black smoke, that leaped from the ground
and rose in tall columns with slow-spreading tops.
They could not even tell which of these shells
were friends' and which were foes^ or whether
they were falling in the British or the German
lines.

Pug was frankly disgusted with the whole per-
formance.

**The people at 'ome,'' he complained, **will see \
a blinkin' sight more of this show in the picture
papers and the kinema shows than me what 's 'ere
in the middle of it. ' '

** Don't you fret. Pug," said Larry; ** we'll see
all we 're looking for presently. Those regiments
up front must have had a pretty hot strafing, and
they're certain to push us up from the supports
into the firing-line."

'*I don't see what you've got to grumble about,"
put in Billy Simson; ''we're snug and comfortable



f



i




48 GRAPES OF WEATH

enough here, and personally I'm not in any hurry
to be trottin' out over the open, with the German
Army shootin' at me.''

**I admit I'm not in any hurry to get plugged
myself," drawled Kentucky, **but I've got quite a
big mite of sympathy for Pug 's feelings. I 'm sure
getting some impatient myself."

** Anyway," said Pug, *4t's about time we 'ad
some grub ; who's feelin' like a chunk of bully and
apavin'-stonet"

The others suddenly woke to the fact that they
also were hungry. Bully beef and biscuits were
produced, and the four sat and ate their meal, and
lit cigarettes, and smoked contentedly after it, with
the roar of battle ringing in their ears, with the
shells rumbling and moaning overhead, and the
bullets piping and hissing and singing past above
their trench.

After their meal, in the close, stagnant air of
the trench they began to feel drowsy, and pres-
ently they settled themselves in the most comfort-
able positions possible, and dozed off to sleep.
They slept for a good half hour, heedless of all
the turmoil about them, and they were roused by
a word passed down along the trench.

They rose, and shook the packs into place on



THE EDGE OF BATTLE 49

their shoulders, tightened and settled the straps
about them, patted their ammunition pouches, felt
the bayonets slip freely in their scabbards, tried
the bolts and action of their rifles, and then stood
waiting with a curious thrill, that was made up of
expectation, of excitement, of fear, perhaps — ^they
hardly knew what. For the word passed along
had been to get ready, that the battalion was
moving up into the firing-line.



CHAPTER IV



ACBOSS THE OPEN



The order came at last to move, and the men began
to work their way along the support trench to the
communication trenches which led up into the
forward lines.

Up to now the battalion, singularly enough con-
sidering the amount of shelling that was going on,
had escaped with comparatively few casualties,
but they were not to escape much longer. As their
line trickled slowly down the communication
trench, Pug had no more than remarked on how
cheaply they had got off so far, when a six- or
eight-inch high-explosive shell dropped with a
rolling crump, that set the ground quivering, close
to the communication trench. The men began to
mend their pace, and to hurry past the danger
zone, for they knew well that where one shell fell
there was almost a certainty of others falling. A
second and a third shell pitched close to the other
side of the trench, but the fourth crashed fairly

50



ACEOSS THE OPEN 51

and squarely into the trench itself, blowing ont a
portion of the walls, killing and wounding a num-
ber of men, and shaking down a torrent of loose
earth which half choked and filled that portion of
the trench. The communication ways, and, indeed,
all trenches, are constructed on a principle of
curves and zig-zags, designed expressly to localize
the effect of a shell bursting in any one portion.
Practically every man in this particular section
of trench was either killed or wounded, but the rest
of the line did not suffer. But the German gun-
ners, having found their target, and having pre-
sumably, observed their direct hit upon it, had their
direction and range exactly, and they proceeded
to pound that portion of the trench to pieces, and
to make it a matter of desperate hazard for any
man to cross the zone covered by their fire. The
zone, of course, had to be crossed, the only other
alternative being to climb out of the trench and
run across the open until the further shelter was
reached. There was a still greater hazard at-
tached to thiSj for the open ground in this locality
— as the officers knew — was visible to the German
Unes, and would expose the men, immediately
upon their showing above ground, to a certain
sweeping torrent of shrapnel, of machine-gun and



52 GRAPES OF WRATH

rifle fire. So the portion of the battalion which
was making its way down that commnnication
trench was set to run the gauntlet of the smashed-
in trench, and the shells which continued to arrive
— fortunately — ^with almost methodical punctual-
ity.

The procedure adopted was for the end of the
line to halt just short of the fire zone, to wait there,
crouched low in the bottom of the trench, until
a shell had burst, then to rise and run, scrambling
and climbing over the fallen debris, into the com-
parative safety of the unbroken trench beyond,
until the officer who was conducting the timing
arrangements thought another shell was due to
arrive, and halted the end of the line to wait until
the next burst came, after which the same per-
formance was repeated.

Larry and his three chums, treading close on
one another's heels, advanced and halted alter-
nately, as the leading portion of the line rushed
across or stayed. They came presently to a turn
of the trench, where an officer stopped them and
bade them lie down, keep as close as they could^
and be ready to jump and run when the next
shell burst and he gave the word. The four
waited through long seconds, their ears straining



ACROSS THE OPEN 53

for the sound of the approaching shell, their eyes
set upon the officer.

"Here she comes/' said Billy Simson, flattening
himself still closer to the trench bottom.

They all heard that thin but ominously rising
screech, and each instinctively shrank and tried
absurdly to make himself smaller than his size.

**Just a-going to begin,'' said Larry, with a
somewhat forced attempt at lightness of tone.

** Don't you wish you was a bloomin' periwin-
kle," said Pug, "with a bullet-proof shell?"

There was no time for more. The screech had
risen to a rushing bellow, and the next instant
the shell dropped with a tumultuous crash, and the
air was darkened with a cloud of evil-smelling
black smoke, thick, choking, and blinding dust.
The four were dazed and shaken with the shock,
half-stunned with the thunderclap of noise, and
stupefied with the nearness of their escape. But
the next instant they were aroused to hear the
voice of the officer beside them, calling and shout-
ing to them to get up, to go on, to hurry across.

"Get on!" repeated Pug, scrambling to his
knees and feet. "My oath, get on. I wouldn't
stop 'ere if I 'ad an invitation to tea with the King % |
'imself."



54 GRAPES OF WRATH

* * Come, you fellows 1 * ' said Larry, and ran with
his shoulders stooped, and dosely followed by the
other three, along a short, unbroken portion of
the trench, out into where it was broken down and
choked to half its height with the debris of fallen
earth and stones. Over this the four clambered
and scuffled hastily, to find the trench beyond it
wrecked out of semblance to a trench, a tossed
and tumbled shallow gutter, with sides fallen in
or blown completely out, with huge craters pitting
the ground to either side of it, with the black reek
and thick dust still curling and writhing and
slowly drifting clear from the last explosion. And
in that broken welter were the fragments of more
than earth or stone ; a half -buried patch of khaki,
a broken rifle, a protruding boot, were significant
of the other and more dreadful fragments buried
there.

Larry and the other three did not, to be sure,
waste time upon their crossing, but, rapidly as
they thought they were moving, they still man-
aged to accelerate their pace as their ears caught
the warning sound of another approaching shell,
and within a few seconds of hearing its first sound,
and the moment when it burst, they had rushed
across the remaining portion of the fire-zone, had



ACEOSS THE OPEN 55

flung themselves down the sides of the last earth
heap, leaped to their feet, and dashed breathlessly
into the next unbroken portion of the communica-
tion trench. They did not attempt to halt there,
but ran on panting and blowing heavily, their
packs and haversacks scrubbing one side or the
other of the trench, their heads stooped, and their
shoulders rounded like men expecting a heavy
blow upon their backs. This shell did not pitch
into the broken ground where the others had
blasted the trench out of any recognizable shape.
It burst overhead with a sharp, ear-splitting crack,
a puff of thick, yellowish-white smoke, a hail of
bullets and flying splinters.

The four men instinctively had half-thrown
themselves, half-fallen in the bottom of the trench.
It was well they did so, for certainly not all of
them could have escaped the huge piece of metal
which had been the head of the shell, and which
spun down the portion of trench they were in,
with a viciously ugly whirr, to bury itself a couple
of feet above the footway in the wall, where the
trench twisted sharply. It struck close to Pug,
so close indeed that when it hit the wall, and then
by its own force, breaking down the earth, feU
with it into the trench bottom. Pug was able to



56 GRAPES OF -W^RATH

stretch out his hand ancj touch it. He gave a

N^harp yelp of pain and surprise as he did so,

Vhipped his hand in again, and under his armpit.

** Strike me!^' he exclaimed, with comical sur-
prise, **the bloomin^ thing is red 'of

**Come on!'' gasped Billy Simson, struggling
to his feet again. * * This whole blankey corner 's
too red 'ot for my likin'."

They rose, and pushed hastily on down the
winding trench. After that, although they them-
selves had no especially close shaves, the rest of
the line suffered rather severely, for the German
gun or guns that had been bombarding the one
section of trench now spread their fire and began
to pitch high explosives up and down along its
whole length. The four had to traverse another
short section that had been swept by a low-burst-
ing shrapnel, and after they had passed it, Larry
found his knees shaking, and his face wet with cold
perspiration.

'^Kentuck!" he gulped, '*I'm afraid — ^I'm sorry
— I think I 'm going to be beastly sick 1 ' '

Kentucky, immediately behind him, urged him
on.

*'Get along, Larry!" he said; **you can't stop
here ! You 'U block the whole line ! ' '



ACROSS THE OPEN 57

But the line for the moment was blocked. That
shell-burst had left few alive in the section of
trench, but the two or three it had not killed out-
right had been dragged clear, and down the trench
a little way. Now the men who had taken them
out had stopped and laid them down and were
shouting vainly — and rather wildly — for \
stretcher-bearers, and endeavoring — some of the j
more cool-headed amongst them — to fumble out /
first field-dressings and apply them to the worst
of the many wounds. They halted there, busy, and
heedless for the moment of anything else, for a
full ten minutes, while the trench behind them
filled with men pressing on, shouting angrily, and
unknowing the cause of the block, to "Move on
there!'' to **Get out of the way!*'

The end of the line next to the wounded men
was forced to try and push forward; the trench
was narrow, barely wide enough at its floor-level
to accommodate the figures stretched out in it and
the men who stooped or knelt over them fimibling
at them, rolling and tying the field-dressing band-
ages upon them; but the men made shift some-
how to pass them, striding and straddling over
their huddled bodies, squeezing past the men who
tried to dress the wounds. These still struggled



58 GRAPES OF WEATH

to complete their task, quite absorbed in it,
straightening themselves and flattening their
bodies against the trench wall to allow a man to
scrape past, stooping again about their work.

** Who has got a spare field-dressing f or *'Give
us your field-dressing,*' was all they took time to
say to the men of the passing line, until a wrath-
ful voice above suddenly interrupted them.

One of the officers, fretting at the delay and the
slow progress down the trench, had climbed out
and run, risking the shells and bullets along the
level, to find the cause of the check. He shouted
angrily at the men below him :

'^Wounded? What's that got to do with itf
That's no reason you should block the whole com-
pany going forward. Where do you think you 're
in — a communication trench or a field-dressing-
station or a base hospital? Pick those men up —
two of you to each man — and carry them along
until you can find a place to lay them where you
won't choke the whole trench ; or carry them right
on out of the communication trench."

The wounded men were picked up somehow or
anyhow by knees and shoulders, and carried and
shuffled and bumped along the winding trench, un-



ACROSS THE OPEN 59

til th^y emerged into the old British front-line
firing trench.

Along this the Stonewalls now spread and took
np their positions as supports for the lines that
had gone ahead, and were now over somewhere
amongst the German first-line trenches. From
here they could look out over the couple of hun-
dred yards' width of what had been the neutral
ground, at the old German front-line trench. Be-
yond its parapet they could see little or nothing
but a drifting haze of smoke, but in the open
ground between the trenches they could see many
figures moving about, and many more lying in
still and huddled heaps of khaki. The moving men
were for the most part stretcher-bearers, and the
Stonewalls were struck with what appeared to
them the curious lack of haste and indifference to
danger that showed in their movements. During
many months, and in many visits to the trenches
and spells in the forward fire trench, they had
come to regard the neutral ground in daylight as
a place whereon no man could walk, or show him-
self, and live; more than that, they had been
taught by strongly worded precept and bitter ex-
perience that only to raise a head above the shel-
ter of the parapet, to look for more than seconds at



60 GRAPES OF WRATH

a time over neutral ground, was an invitation to
sudden death. It struck them then as a most ex-
traordinary thing that now men should be able to
walk about out there, to carry a stretcher in, to
hoist it, climbing and balancing themselves and
their burden carefully on the parapet, dear and
exposed to any chance or aimed bullet.

Kentucky watched some of these groups for a
time and then laughed quietly.

**Well!'' he drawled, **IVe been kind of scared
stiff for days past at the thought of having to bolt
across this open ground, and here I come and find
a bunch of fellows promenading around as cool
and unconcerned as if there weren't a bullet within
a mile of them. ' '

**I was thinkin' just the same thing, *' agreed
Pug, who was beside him, and looking with inter-
est and curiosity over the open ground; *'but if
there ain't many bullets buzzin' about 'ere now
you can bet there was not long ago. There's a
pretty big crowd of ours still lying na-poo-ed out
there."

But the ground was stiU far from being as safe
as for the moment it appeared. The German artil-
lery and the machine-gunners were evidently too
busily occupied upon the more strenuous work



\



/



ACROSS THE OPEN 61

of checkmg the advance, or did not think it worth \
while wasting ammunition upon the small and '
scattered targets presented by the stretcher-bear- \
ers. But when a regiment which prolonged the
line to the left of the Stonewalls climbed from
the trench, and began to advance by companies
in open order across the neutral ground, it was a /
different story.

An exclamation from Pug and a soft whistle
from Kentucky brought Larry to the parapet be-
side them, and the three watched in fascinated
excitement the attempt of the other regiment to
cross the open, the quick storm of shells and bul-
lets that began to sweep down upon them the
moment they showed themselves clear of the para-
pet. They could see plainly the running figures,
could see them stumble and fall, and lie still, or
turn to crawl back to cover ; could see shell after
shell burst above the line, or drop crashing upon
it ; could see even the hail of bullets that drummed
down in little jimaping spurts of dust about the
feet of the runners.

A good many more of the Stonewalls were
watching the advance, and apparently the line
of their heads, showing over the parapet, caught
the attention of some German machine-gunners.



62 GEAPES OF WRATH

The heads ducked down hastily as sl stream of
bullets commenced to batter and rap against the
parapet, sweeping it up and down, down and up
its length.

** Doesn't seem quite as safe as we fancied, ''
said Kentucky.

**I don't think!'' said Pug.

'^Anyway," said Larry, *4t's our turn next!"

He was right, for a few minutes later their
officer pushed along and told them to * * Stand by, ' '
to be ready to climb out when the whistle blew,
and to run like blazes for the other side.

**We'll run all right," said Pug to the others,
*4f them jokers lets us," and he jerked his head
upwards to the sound of another pelting sweep
of bullets driving along the face of the parapet
above them.

Before the whistle blew as the signal for them
to leave the trench, an order was passed along
that they were to go company by company, A
being first, B second, and C third. A couple of
minutes later A Company, out on the right of the
battalion, swarmed suddenly over the parapet and,
spreading out to open order as they went, com-
menced to jog steadily across the flat ground. Im-
mediately machine-gun fire at an extreme range



ACROSS THE OPEN 63

began to patter bullets down amongst the advanc-
ing men, and before they were quarter- way across
the '* Fizz-Bang'' shells also began to smash down
along the line, or to burst over it. There were a
number of casualties, but the line held on steadily.
Some of the men of the remaining companies were
looking out on the advance, but the officers ordered
them to keep down, and under cover.

In C Company a lieutenant moved along the line,
ordering the men down, and repeating the same
sentences over and over again as he passed along.

*'Keep down until you get the word; when we
start across, remember that, if a man is hit, no
one is to stop to pick him up; a stretcher-bearer
will see to him. ' '

*' That's all right 1" said Larry to the others,
when the officer had passed after repeating his
set sentences, '*but I vote we four keep together,
and give each other a hand, if we can."

*' 'Ear, 'ear!" said Pug. **Any'ow, if any of
us stops one, but isn't a complete wash-out, the
others can lug 'im into any shell 'ole that 's 'andy,
and leave 'im there. ' '

*'We'll call that a bargain," said Kentucky
briefly. They sat fidgeting for a few seconds
longer, hearing the rush and crash of the falling



\



64 GEAPES OF WRATH

shells, the whistle and smack of the bullets on the
open ground beyond them.

**I'm going to have a peep,'* said Larry sud-
denly, **just to see how *A' is getting on/'

He stood on the fire step, with his head stooped
cautiously below the level of the parapet; then,
raising it sharply, took one long, sweeping glance,
and dropped down again beside his fellows.

'* They 're nearly over," he said. *' There's a
lot of smoke about, and I can't see very clear,
but the line doesn't look as if it had been very
badly knocked about."

*' There goes *B,' " said Billy Simson, as they
heard the shrill trill of a whistle. '*Our turn
next!"

**That open ground is not such a healthy re-
sort afi we thought it a few minutes ago," said
Larry. ** Personally, I sha'n't be sorry when
we're across it."

He spoke in what he strove to make an easy
and natural voice, but somehow he felt that it was
so strained and unnatural that the others would
surely notice it. He felt horribly ashamed of that
touch of faintness and sickness back in the com-
munication trench, and began to wonder nerv-
ously whether the others would think he was a



ACROSS THE OPEN 65

coward, and funking it ; still worse, began to won-
der whether actually they would be right in so
thinking. He began to have serious doubts of the \
matter himself, but, if he had known it, the others
were feeling probably quite as uncomfortable as
himself, except possibly Pug, who had long since
resigned himself to the comforting fatalism that /
if his name were written on the bullet it would
find him. If not, he was safe.

None of the four looked to see how '*B'^ Com-
pany progressed. They were all beginning to feel
that they would have to take plenty of chances
when it came their turn to climb the parapet, and
that it was folly to take an extra risk by exposing
themselves for a moment before they need.
A shout came from the traverse next to theuL
**Get ready, *C' Company; pass the word!'*
The four stood up, and Larry lifted his voice,
and shouted on to the next traverse.
**Gtet ready, *C'; pass the word!**
*' Don't linger none on the parapet, boys,'' said
Kentucky. ** They've probably got their machine
gun trained on it. * '

The next instant they heard the blast of a
whistle, and a shout rang along the line.
**Come on, *C'; over with you!"



I



66 GRAPES OF WRATH

The four leaped over the parapet, scrambling
and scuf9ing up its broken sides.

Near the top Pug exclaimed suddenly, grasped
wildly at nothing, collapsed and rolled backward
into the trench. The other three half -halted, and
looked round.

**Come on,'* said Kentucky; **he's safest where
he is, whether he 's hurt much or little. ' '

The three picked their way together out through
the remains of the old barbed-wire entanglements,
and began to run across.

* * Open out 1 Open out 1 ' ' the officers were shout-
ing, and a little reluctantly, for the dose elbow-
touching proximity to each other gave a comfort-
ing sense of helpfulness and confidence, they
swerved a yard or two apart, and ran on steadily.
The bare two hundred yards seemed to stretch to
a journey without end ; the few minutes they took
in crossing spun out like long hours.

Several times the three dropped on their faces,
as they heard the warning rush of a shelL Once
they half -fell, were half-thrown down by the force
of an explosion within twenty yards of them.
They rose untouched, by some miracle, and, gasp-
ing incoherent inquiries to one another, went on
again. Over and over again fragments from the



ACROSS THE OPEN 67

shells bursting above the line rattled down ui)on
the ground amongst their feet. At least two or
three times a shell bursting on the ground spat-
tered them with dust and crumbs of earth; the
whole way across they were accompanied by the
drumming bullets that flicked and spurted little
clouds of dust from the ground about them, and
all the time they were in the open they were fear-
fully conscious of the medley of whining and sing-
ing and hissing and zipping sounds of the passing
bullets. They knew nothing of how the rest of
the line was faring. They were too taken up
with their own part, were too engrossed in picking
^ a way over the broken shell-cratered ground, past
the still khaki forms that lay dotted and sprawled
the whole way across.

There was such a constant hail and stream of
bullets, such a succession of rushing shells, of
crashing explosions, such a wild chaos of sounds
and blinding smoke and choking reek, that the
whole thing was like a dreadful nightmare; but
the three came at last, and unharmed, to the
chopped and torn-up fragments of the old German
wired defenses, tore through them somehow or
anyhow, leaped and fell over the smashed-in para-
pet, and dropped panting and exhausted in the



68 GRAPES OF WEATH

wrecked remains of the German trench. It was
some minutes before they took thought and breath,
but then it was evident that the minds of all ran
in the same groove.

**I wonder,'' said Larry, *4f Pug was badly
hitf'

**IVe no idea," said Kentucky. **He went
down before I could turn for a glimpse of him."

**I don't suppose it matters much," said Billy
Simson gloomily. **He's no worse off than the
rest of us are likely to be before we're out of this.
Seems to me, by the row that's goin' on over there,
this show is gettin' hotter instead of slackin' off."



CHAPTER V



ON CAPTUBED GBOUKD



**I woNDEB what the next move isf said Larry.
**I don't fancy they will leave us waiting here
much longer.'*

** Don't you suppose," asked Kentucky, "we'll
wait here until the other companies get across?"

**Lord knows," said Larry ; "and, come to think
of it, Kentuck, has it struck you how beastly little
we do know about anything? We've pushed their
line in a bit, evidently, but how far we've not an
idea. We don't know even if their first line is
captured on a front of half a mile, or half a hun-
dred miles; we don't know what casualties we've
got in our own battalion, or even in our own com-
pany, mudi less whether they have been heavy or
light in the whole attack. ^'

"That's so," said Kentucky; "although I con-
fess none of these things is worrying me much.
I'm much more concerned about poor old Pug
being knocked out than I'd be about our losing
fifty per cent, of half a dozen regiments."



70 GRAPES OF WEATH

Billy Simson had taken the cork from his water-
bottle, and, after shaking it lightly, reluctantly
replaced the cork, and swore violently.

**IVe hardly a monthful left,*' he said. *'I'm
as dry as a bone now, and the Lord only knows
when we'll get a chance of filling our water-bottles
again. '*

**Here you are,*' said Larry; **you can have a
mouthful of mine; I've hardly touched it yet.'*

Orders came down presently to close in to the
right, and in obedience the three picked up their -
rifles and crept along the trench. It was not a
pleasant journey. The trench had been very badly
knocked about by the British bombardment; its
sides were broken in, half or wholly filling the
trench; in parts it waS* obliterated and lost in a
jumble of shell craters ; ground or trench was lit-
tered with burst sandbags, splintered planks and
broken fascines, and every now and again the
three had to step over or past bodies of dead men
lying huddled alone or in groups of anything up
to half a dozen. There were a few khaki forms
amongst these dead, but most were in the German
gray, and most had been killed very obviously and
horribly by shell or bomb or grenade.

**They don't seem to have had many men hold-



ON CAPTUEED GROUND 71

ing this front line, ' ' remarked Larry, * * or a good
few must have bolted or surrendered. Doesn't
seem as if the little lot here could have done much
to hold the trench/'

''Few men and a lot of machine guns, as usual,
I expect," said Kentucky. ''And if this is all the
trench held they claimed a good bunch of ours
for every one of theirs, if you judge by the crowd
of our lot lying out there in the open."

The three were curiously unmoved by the sight
of these dead — ^and dead, be it noted, who have
been killed by shell fire or bomb explosions might
as a rule be expected to be a sight upsetting to
the strongest nerves. They were all slightly and
somewhat xjasually interested in noting the mode
and manner of death of the different men, and
the suspicion of professional jealousy evinced by
a remark of Billy Simson's was no doubt more or
less felt by all, and all were a little disappointed
that there was not more evidence of the bayonet
having done its share. "The bloomin' guns seem
to have mopped most o' this lot," said Billy.
"An* them fellers that charged didn^t find many
to get their own back on." They were all inter-
ested, too, in the amount of damage done by the
shells to the trench, in the methods of trench con-



72 GRA.PES OF WEATH

struction, in the positions and state of the dug-
outs. And yet all these interests were to a great
extent of quite a secondary nature, and the main
<flieme of their thoughts was the bullets whistling
avair..ti][!Em, iiro rush-j^ and crash of the

shells still falling out on thie* open, the singing
and whirring of their splinters above the trench. '
They moved with heads stooped and bodies half-
crouched, they hurried over the earth heaps that
blocked the trench, and in crossings where they
were more exposed, halted and crouched still
lower under cover when thfe louder and rising
roar of a shelPs approach gave warning that it
was falling near.

When they had moved up enough to be in close
touch with the rest of the company and halted
there, they found themselves in a portion of trench
with a dug-out entrance in it. The entrance was
almost closed by a fall of earth, brought down
apparently by a bursting shell, and when they
arrived they found some of the other men of the
company busy clearing the entrance. ^* Might be
some soo-veniers down 'ere, ' ' one of the men ex-
plained. **An', anyhow, we'd be better down be-
low an' safer out o' reach b' any shell that flops
in while we're 'ere,'' said another.



ON CAPTURED GROUND 73

*^ Suppose there's some bloomin' TJns still
there, lyin* doggo, '* suggested Billy Simson.
**They might plunk a shot at yer when you goes
down. ' '

** Shouldn't think that's likely," said Larry.
**They would know that if they did they'd get
wiped out pretty quick after."

*'I dunno," said one of the men. **They say
their oflScers an' their noospapers 'as 'em stuffed
so full o ' fairy tales about us killing all prisoners
that they thinks they're goin' to get done in any-
how, an' might as well make a last kick for it. I
vote we chuck a couple o ' bombs down first, just to
make sure. "

Everybody appeared to think this a most natu-
ral precaution to take, and a proposal in no way
cruel or brutal ; although, on the other hand, when
Larry, with some feeling that it was an unsporting
arrangement, suggested that they call down first
and give any German there a chance to surrender,
everybody quite willingly accepted the suggestion.
So work was stopped, and aU waited and listened
while Larry stuck his head into the dark opening
and shouted with as inquiring a note as he could
put into his voice the only intelligible German he
knew, ^ ' Hi, AUemands^ kamerad f ' ' There was no



/

)



74 GRAPES OF WEATH

answer, and he withdrew his head. **I don't hear
anything,*' he said; *'but perhaps they wouldn't
nnderstand what I meant, I'll just try them
again in French and English." He poked his
head in again, and shouted down first in French
and then in English, asking if there was anybody
there, and did they surrender. He wound up with
a repetition of his inquiring, ''Kamerad, eh? kam-
erad?" but this time withdrew his head hurriedly,
as an unmistakable answer came up to him, a muf-
fled, faraway sounding ^*Kamerad." ** There's
some of them there, after all, " he said, excitedly,
*^ and they're shouting 'Kamerad,' so I suppose
they want to surrender all right. Let's clear away
enough of this to get them out. We'll make 'em
come one at a time with their hands well up. ' '

There was great excitement in the trench, and
this rather increased when a man pushed round
the traverse from the next section with the news
that some Germans had been found in another
dug-out there. ** They 're singin' out that they
want to kamerad," he said; *'but we can't i)er-
suade 'em to come out, an' nobody is very keen
on goin' down the 'ole after 'em. We've passed
the word along for an officer to come an' see what
'e can do with 'em."



ON CAPTUEED GROUND 75

**Let*s hurry up and get our gang out,'*
said Larry enthusiastically, "before the oflSoer
comes'*; and the men set to work with a will to
clear the dug-out entrance. *^It*s rather a score
for the Stonewalls to bring in a bunch of pris-
oners, ' ' said one of the men. * * We ought to search
all these dug-outs. If there's some in a couple of
these holes it's a fair bet that there's more in the
others. Wonder how they haven't been found by
the lot that took the trench?"

** Didn't have time to look through all the dug-
outs, I suppose," said Larry. **And these chaps
would lie low, thinking the trench might be re-
taken. I think that hole is about big enough for
them to crawl out. Listen! They're shouting
*Kamerad' again. Can't you hear 'em?"

He looked down the dark stairway of the en-
trance and shouted **Kamerad" again, and lis-
tened for the reply. **I wonder if the door is
blocked further down, ' ' he said. * * I can hear them
shout, but the sound seems to be blocked as if
there was something between us and them still.
Listen again."

This time they all heard a faint shout, *'Kam-
erad. Hier kom. Kamerad."

**Hier kom — ^that means come here, I fancy,"



76 GRAPES OF WEATH

said Larry. * * But why don 't they hier kom to us ?
Perhaps it is that they're buried in somehow and
want us to get them out. Look here, I'm going
to crawl down these steps and find out what's up."
He proceeded to creep cautiously down the low
and narrow passage of the stair, when suddenly
he saw at the stair foot the wandering flash of an
' electric torch and heard voices calling plainly in
\ English to * * Come out, Bochie. Kamerad. ' '
'^ The truth flashed on Larry, and he turned and
^ttled hsLck up the stair gurgling laughter. ^ 'It's
fliome of our own lot down there, ' ' he chuckled to
the others. * * This dug-out must have another en-
[trance in the next traverse, and we and the fel-
lows round there have been shouting down the
two entrauces at each other. Hold on now and
! listen and hear them scatter." He leaned in at
■ the entrance again, and shouted loudly. *'As you
won't come out and surrender, Boche, we're going
to throw some bombs down on you." He picked
iup a heavy stone from the trench bottom and
^ flung it down the steps. There was a moment of
petrified silence, then a yell and a scuffling rush of
footsteps from the darkness below, while Larry
and the others sat and rocked with laughter above.
They pushed round the traverse just as a couple



ON CAPTUEED GROUND 77

of badly scared and wholly amazed Stonewalls
scrambled up from the dug-out, and commenced
a voluble explanation that * * the blighters is chuck-
in' bombs, . . . told us in English, good^plain
English, too, they was goin' to 'cos we wouldn't
surrender."

Just then an officer pushed his way along to
them, and the joke was explained with great glee
by Larry and the men from the other part of the
trench. Every one thought it a huge joke, and
laughed and cracked jests, and chuckled over the
episode. Kentucky listened to them with some
wonder. He had thought that in the past months
of peace and war he had come to know and un-
derstand these comrades of his fairly well. And
yet here was a new side in their many-sided char-
acters that once more amazed him. A couple of
dead Germans sprawled in the bottom of the
trench a yard or two from them ; their own dead
lay crowded thick on the flat above; the bullets
and shells continued to moan and howl overhead,
to rush and crash down dose by, the bullets to
pipe and whistle and hiss past and over; while
only a few hundred yards away the enemy still
fought desperately to hold their lines against our
attacks, and all the din of battle rolled and rever-



78 GRAPES OF WEATH

berated unceasingly. And yet the men in that
trendi laughed and joked. They knew not the
moment when one of those shells falling so close
outside might smash into the trench amongst
them, knew that all of those there would presently
be deep in the heart of the battle and slaughter
that raged so close to them, knew for a certainty
that some of them would never come out of it;
and yet — ^they laughed. Is it any wonder that
Kentucky was amazed?

And they continued to chuckle and poke fun at
the two who had been the butt of the jest and had
run from the flung stone, continued even as they
began to move slowly along the ruined trench that
led towards the din of the fighting front lines.



CHAPTER VI



TAKING PUNISHMENT



"C Company of the Stonewalls progressed
slowly for some distance up the communication
trench, with the whistling of bullets growing faster
the nearer they approached to the firing line. This
trench too had been badly damaged previous to
the attack by the British artillery, and the cover
it afforded to the crawling line of men was fre-
quently scanty, and at times was almost nil.
/There were one or two casualties from chance
bullets as men crawled over the debris of wrecked
portions of the trendi, but the line at last reached
wWt had been one of the German support
trenches, and spread along it, without serious loss.
This trench had been reversed by our Engineers,
that is to say, the sandbags and parapet on what
had been its face, looking towards the British
line, had been pulled down and re-piled on the new
front of the trench, which now looked towards the
ground still held by the Germans. The trench was

79



80 GRAPES OF WEATH

only some three to four hundred yards behind
what was here the most advanced British line, the
line from which some of our regiments were at-
tacking, and in which they were being attacked.
Practically speaking, therefore, the Stonewalls
knew their position was well up on the outer
fringe of the infantry fighting, and through it
swirled constantly eddies from the firing line in
the shape of wounded men and stretcher-bearers,
and trickling but constantly running streams
of feeders to the fighting — ammunition carriers,
staggering under the weight of anmiunition boxes
and consignments of bombs and grenades; regi-
mental stretcher-bearers returning for fresh
loads; ration parties carrying up food and water.
There were still communication trenches leading
from the Stonewalls * position to the firing line, but
because these had been and still were made a regu-
lar target by the German guns, had been smashed
and broken in beyond all real semblance of cover
or protection, and brought their users almost with
certainty under the bursting shrapnel or high ex-
plosive with which the trench was plastered, most
of the men going up or coming back from the for-
ward trench, and especially if they were laden
with any burden, preferred to take their chance



TAKING PUNISHMENT 81

and make the quicker and straighter passage over
the open ground.

The daylight was beginning to fade by now, the
earlier because dark clouds had been massing, and
a thin misty drizzle of rain had begun to fall ; but
although it was dusk there was no lack of light in
the fighting zone. From both the opposing
trenches soaring lights hissed upwards with trail-
ing streams of sparks, curved over, burst into
vivid balls of brilliant light, and floated slowly
and slantingly downwards to the ground.

The Stonewalls could see — ^if they cared to look
over their parapet — this constant succession of
leaping, soaring, and sinking lights, the dancing
black shadows they threw, and the winking spurts
of fiery orange flame from the rifle muzzles and
from the bursting grenades, while every now and
again a shell dropped with a blinding flash on or
behind one or other of the opposing parapets.
There were not many of the Stonewalls who cared
to lift their heads long enough to watch the blazing
display and the flickering lights and shadows. The
position of their trench was slightly higher than
the front line held by the Germans, and as a result
there was always a hissing and whizzing of bullets
passing close overhead, a smacking and slapping



82 GRAPES OF WRATH

of others into their parapet and the ground before
it ; to raise a head above the parapet was, as the
men would have said, *^Askin^for it," and none
of them was inclined needlessly to do this. But
the other men who passed to and fro across their
trench, although they no doubt liked their expo-
sure as little as the Stonewalls did, climbed with
apparent or assumed indifference over the para-
pet and hurried stooping across the open to the
next trench, or walked back carefully and deliber-
ately, bearing the stretcher laden with the
wounded, or helping and supporting the casualties
who were still able in any degree to move them-
selves.

The Stonewalls were given no indication of the
time they were to remain there, of when or if they
were to be pushed up into the forward trench.
The thin rain grew closer and heavier, a chiU wind
began to blow, setting the men shivering and
stamping their feet in a vain attempt to induce
warmth. Some of them produced food from their
haversacks and ate; almost all of them squatted
with rounded shoulders and stooping heads and
smoked cigarettes with hands curved about them
to hold off the rain, or pipes lit and turned upside
down to keep the tobacco dry. They waited there



TAKING PUNISHMENT 83

for hours, and gradually, although the sounds of
fighting never ceased on their front, the rolling
thunder that had marked the conflict during the
day died down considerably as the night wore on,
until it became no more than a splutter and crackle
of rifle fire, a whirring and clattering outburst
from some distant or near machine gun, the whoop
and rush and jarring burst of an occasional shell
on the British or German lines.

At intervals the fight flamed upward into a re-
newed activity, the rifle fire rose rolling and drum-
ming, the machine guns chattered in a frenzy of
haste ; the reports of the bursting bombs and gre-
nades followed quickly and more quickly upon
each other. Invariably the louder outburst of
noise roused the guns on both sides to renewed
action. The sky on both sides winked and flamed
with flashes that came and went, and lit and dark-
ened across the sky, like the flickering dance of
snmmer lightning. The air above the trenches
shook again to the rush of the shells ; the ground
about and between the front lines blazed with the
flashes of the bursts, was darkened and obscured
by the billowing clouds of smoke and the drifting
haze of their dissolving. Invariably, too, the on-
slaught of the guns, the pattering hail of their



84 GRAPES OF WRATH

shrapnel, the earth-shaking crash of the high
explosives, reduced almost to silence the other
sounds of fighting, drove the riflemen and bomb-
throwers to cover, and so slackened off for a space
the fierceness of the conflict.

To the Stonewalls the night dragged with bitter
and appalling slowness; they were cramped and
nncomf ortable ; they were wet and cold and miser-
able. The sides of the trench, the ground on which
they sat, or lay, or squatted, turned to slimy and
sticky mud, mud that appeared to cling and hold
clammily and unpleasantly to everything about
them, their boots and puttees, the skirts of their
coats, their packs and haversacks, their hands and
rifles and bayonets, and even to their rain-wet
faces.

Long before the dawn most of the men were
openly praying that they would soon be pushed
up into the front rank of the fighting, not because
they had any longing or liking for the fight itself,
not that they had — any more than any average
soldier has — a wish to die or to take their risks,
their heavy risks, of death or wounds, but simply
because they were chilled to the bone with inac-
tion, were wholly and utterly and miserably wet
and uncomfortable, were anxious to go on and get



TAKING PUNISHMENT 85

it over, knowing that when they had been in the
front line for a certain time, had been actively
fighting for so long, and lost a percentage of their
number in casualties, they would be relieved by
other regiments, would be withdrawn, and sent
back to the rear. That sending back might mean
no more than a retirement of a mile or two from
the front trench, the occupation of some other
trench or ditch, no less wet and uncomfortable
than the one they were in ; but, on the other hand,
it might mean their going back far enough to
bring them again into touch with the broken vil-
lages in the rear, with houses shattered no doubt
by shell fire but still capable of providing rough
and ready-made shelter from the rain, and, a boon
above all boons, wood for fires, with crackling,
leaping, life-giving flames and warmth, with the
opportunity of boiling mess-tins of water, of heat-
ing tinned rations, and of making scalding hdt tea.
There might be much to go through before such
a heaven could be reached. There were certainly
more long hours, in th« hell of the forward line,

*

there was black death and burning pain, and limb
and body mutilation for anything up to three-
fourths of their number, to be faced. There were
sleeting rifle bullets, and hailing storms from the



86 GRAPES OF WRATH

machine gons, shattering bombs and grenades,
rending and tearing shrapnel and shell splinters,
the cold-blooded creeping murder of a gas attack
perhaps; the more human heat and stir of a
bayonet charge; but all were willing, nay, more,
all would have welcomed the immediate facing of
the risks and dangers, would have gladly taken the
chance to go on and get it over, and get back again
— such of them as were left — ^to where they could
walk about on firm ground, and stretch their limbs
and bodies to sleep in comparative dryness. But
no order came throughout the night, and they lay
and crouched there with the rain still bjeating
down, with the trench getting wetter and muddier
and slimier about them, with their bodies getting
more numbed, and their clothing more saturated ;
lay there until the cold gray of the dawn began to
creep into the sky, and they roused themselves
stiffly, and with many groans, to meet what the
new day might bring forth to them.

The day promised to open badly for the Stone-
walls. As the light grew, and became suflficiently
strong for the observation of artillery fire, the
guns recommenced a regular bombardment on
both sides. From the first it was plain that the
support trench occupied by the Stonewallp had



TAKING PUNISHMENT 87

been marked down as a target by the German gun-
ners. The first couple of shells dropped on the
ground behind their trench and within fifty yards
of it, sending some shrieking fragments flying over
their heads, spattering them with the mud and
earth ontflung by the explosions. Another and
then another fell, this time in front of their trench,
and then one after another, at regular intervals of
two to three minutes, a heavy high explosive
crashed down within a yard or two of either side
of the trench, breaking down the crumbling sides,
blowing in the tottering parapet, half-burying
some of the men in a tumbling slide of loose, wet
earth and debris ; or falling fairly and squarely in
the trench itself, killing or wounding every man
in the particular section in which it fell, blasting
out in a fountain of flying earth and stones and
mud the whole front and back wall of the trench,
leaving it open and improtected to the searcbing
shrapnel that burst overhead and pelted down in
gusts along the trench's length.

The Stonewalls lay and suffered their cruel
punishment for a couple of hours, and in that time
lost nearly two hundred men, many of them killed,
many more of them so cruelly wounded they might
almost be called better dead; lost their two



88 GRAPES OF WEATH

hundred men without stirring from the trench,
-without being able to lift a finger in their own de-
fense, without even the grim satisfaction of firing
a shot, or throwing a bomb, or doing anything to
take toll from the men who were punishing them
so mercilessly for those long hours.

Larry, Kentucky, and Simson lay still, and
crouched close to the bottom of the trench, saying
little, and that little no more than expressions of
anger, of railing against their inaction, of cursings
at their impotence, of wondering how long they
were to stick there^ of how much longer they could
expect to escape those riving shells, that pounded
up and down along the trench, that sent shiverings
and tremblings through the wet ground under
them, that spat at them time and again with earth
and mud and flying clods and stones. In those two
hours they heard the cries and groans that fol-
lowed so many timfes the rending crash and roar of
the shell's explosion on or about the trench; the
savage whistling rush and crack of the shrapnel
above them, the rip and thud of the bullets across
trench and parapet. They saw many wounded
helped and many more carried out past them to
the communication trench that led back to the rear
and to the dressing-stations. For all through the



TAKING PUNISHMENT 89

two hours, heedless of the storm of high explosive
that shook and battered the trench to pieces, the
stretcher-bearers worked, and picked np the cas-
ualties, and sorted out the dead and the dying
from the wounded, and applied hasty but always
neat bandages and first field-dressings, and
started off those that could walk upon their way,
or laid those who were past walking upon their
stretchers and bore them, staggering and slipping
and stumbling, along the muddy trench into the
way towards the rear.

**I wonder,'' said Larry savagely, **how much
longer we're going to stick here getting pounded
to pieces. There won 't be any of the battalion left
if we're kept here much longer."

^ * The front line there has been sticking longer
than us, boy," said Kentucky, **and I don't sup-
pose they're having any softer time than us."

**I believe it's all this crowd trampin' in an'
out of our trench that's drawin' the fire. They
ought to be stopped," said Billy Simson indig-
nantly. ** Here's some more of 'em now. . . . Hi,
you I Whatjer want to come crawlin' through this
way for! Ain't there any other way but trampin'
in an' out on top of us 'eref "

The couple of mud-bedaubed privates who had



90 GRAPES OF WRATH

sKd down into the trench and were hoisting an
ammnnition-box on to the parapet stopped and
looked down on Billy crouching in the trench bot-
tom. **Go'n put yer 'ead in a bag,*' said one
coarsely. **0f course, if you says so, me lord
dock,'' said the other with heavily sarcastic poUte-
ness, **we'll tell the CO. up front that you objects
to us walkin' in your back door an' out the front
parlor ; an' he must do without &ny more ammuni-
tion 'cos you don't like us passing through this
way without wipin' our feet on the mat."

^*0h, come on an' leave it alone," growled the
first, and heaved himself over the parapet. The
other followed, but paused to look back at Billy.
*^Good job the early bird don't 'appen to be about
this momin'," he remarked loudly, *^or 'e might
catch you," and he and his companion vanished.

*' What's the good of grousing at them, Billy f"
said Larry. *^ They've got to get up somehow."
He was a little inclined to be angry with Billy,
partly because they were all more or less involved
in the foolish complaint, and partly no doubt just
because he was ready to be angry with any one or
anything.

**Why do they all come over this bit of trench,
then!" demanded Billy. *^And I'm damned if



TAKING PUNISHMENT 91

'ere ain't more of 'em. Now wot d'you suppose
■he's playin' atf "

** They 're Gmmers," said Larry, *^ laying a tele-
phone wire out, evidently. ' '

A young oflScer, a Second Lieutenant, and two
men crept round the broken comer of the trench.
One of the men had a reel of telephone wire, which
he paid out as he went, while the other man and
the officer hooked it up over projections in the
trench wall or tucked it away along the parts that
offered the most chance of protection. The officer
turned to the three men who crouched in the
trench watching them.

** Isn't there a conununication trench somewhere
along here!" he asked, ^*one leading off to the
right to some broken-down houses!"

**We don't know, sir," said Larry. **We
haven't been further along than this, or any fur-
ther up."

**The men going up to the front line all say the
communication trenches are too badly smashed,
and under too hot and heavy a fire to be used,"
said Kentucky; **most of them go up and down
across the open from here. ' '

* * No good to me, ' ' said the officer. But he stood



92 GRAPES OF WRATH

up and looked carefully out over the ground in
front.

**No good to me/' he repeated, stepping back
into the trench. **Too many shells and bullets
there for my wire to stand an earthly. It would be
chopped to pieces in no time. ' '

**Look out, sir/' said Larry hurriedly; ** there
comes another one.''

The officer and his two men stooped low in the
trench, and waited until the customary rush had
ended in the customary crash.

**That," said the officer, standing up, ^^was
about a five-pointruine H.E., I reckon. It's mostly
these six- and eight-inch they have be^n dumping
down here all the morning. ' '

He and his men went on busily with their wir-
ing, and before they moved off into the next trav-
erse he turned to give a word of warning to the
infantrymen to be careful of his wire, and to jump
on any one they saw pulling it down or trampling
on it.

**Lots of fellows," he said, **seem to think we
run these wires out for our own particular benefit
and amusement, but they howl in a different tune
if they want the support of the guns and we can't



TAKING PUNISHMENT 93

give it them because our wire back to the battery
is broken. ' '

The three regarded the slender, wriggling wire
with a new interest after that, and if the rest of
the trench full of Stonewalls were as zealous in
their protection as they were, there was little fear
of the wire being destroyed, or even misplaced, by
careless hands or feet.

Billy Simson cursed strenuously a pair of blun-
dering stretcher-bearers when one of their elbows
caught the wire and pulled it down. ^* 'Ow dV^r
suppose, '* he demanded, *Hhe Gunners' Forward
OflBcer is goin' to tell 'is guns back there to open
fire, or keep on firin', if yer go breakin' up 'is
blinkin ' wire f ' ' And he crawled up and carefully
returned the wire to its place.

**Look out," he kept saying to every man who
came and went up and down or across the trench.
** That's the Gunners' wire ; don't you git breakin'
it, or they can't call up to git on with the shell-
in'."

About two or three hours after dawn the
German bombardment appeared to be slackening
off, but again within less than half an hour it was
renewed with a more intense violence than ever.
The Stonewalls' trench was becoming hopelessly



94 GRAPES OF WEATH

destroyed, and the casualties in the battalion were
mounting at serious speed.

** Hotter than ever, isn't itf said Larry, and
the other two assented.

**We're lucky to 'ave dodged it so far/' said
Billy Simson; ^^but by the number o' casualties
we've seen carted out, the battalion is coppin' it
pretty stiff. If we stop 'ere much longer, there
won't be many of us left to shove into the front
line, when we 're needed. ' '

**D'ye notice," said Kentuc^, **that the rifle
firing and bombing up in front seems to have
eased off a bit, and the guns are doing most of the
work!"

*^ Worse luck," said Larry, **I'd sooner have the
bullets than the shells any day."

"Ar'n't you the Stonewalls!" suddenly de-
manded a voice from above them, and the three
looked up to see a couple of men standing on the
rearward edge of the trench.

**Yes, that's right," they answered in the same
breath, and one of the men turned and waved his
hand to the rear.

** Somebody is lookin' for you," he remarked,
jumping and sliding down into the trench. "C
Company o' the Stonewalls, 'e wanted."



TAKING PUNISHMENT 95

^'That's us,'' said Larry, **but if he wants an
officer he must go higher up/'

Another figure appeared on the bank above,
and jumped hastily down into the trench.

** Stonewalls,'' he said. ** Where's *C' — ^why
'ere yer are, chums "

**Pugf" said Larry and Kentucky incredu-
lously. **We thought that — ^why, weren't you
hit!" ** Thought you was 'alf-way to Blighty by
now," said Billy Simson.

**You were hit, after all," said Larry, noticing
the bloodstains and the slit sleeve on Pug's jacket.

** 'It!" said Billy Simson, also staring hard.
*^ Surely they didn't send yer back 'ere after bein'
casualtiedf"

**Give a bloke 'alf a chaace to git 'is wind,"
said Pug, **an' I'll spin yer the cuffer. But I'm
jist about puffed out runnin' acres t that blinkin'
field, and dodgin' Jack Johnsons. Thought I was
niver goin' to find yer agin ; bin searchin' 'alf over
France since last night, tryin' to 'ook up with yer.
Where 've you bin to, any'owf "

**Bin tol" said Billy Simson, indignantly.
** We've bin now 'ere. We've bin squatting 'ere
freezin' and drownin' to death — ^them that 'aven't
bin wiped out with crumps. ' '



96 GRAPES OF WEATH

**We came straight across from where we left
you to the old German trench, ' ^ said Larry, * * then
up a communication trench to here, and, as Billy
says, weVe stuck here ever since."

**An' 'ere," said Pug, "IVe bin trampin' miles
lookin' for yer, and every man I asked w'ere the
Stonewalls was told me a new plice."

**But what happened, Pug?" said Kentucky.
**Tou were wounded, we see. that; but why ar'n't
you back in the dressing station?"

"Well," said Pug, hesitatingly, **w'en I got this
puncture, I dropped back in the trench. I didn't
know w 'ether it was bad or not, but one of our
stretcher-bearers showed me the way back to the
fust aid post. They tied me up there, and told me
the wound wasn't nothia' worth worritin' about,
and after a few days at the Base I'd be back to the
battalion as good as ever ; so I 'ad a walk round
outside, waitin' till the ambulance come that they
said would cart me back to the 'orspital train, and
w'en nobody was lookin' I jist come away, and
found my way back to w'ere yer lef ' me. Then I
chased round, as I've told yer, till I found yer
'ere. ' '

* ' Good man, ' ' said Larry, and Kentucky nodded
approvingly.



TAKING PUNISHMENT 97

Billy Simson didn't look on it in the same light.
**You 'ad a chance to go back, and you come on
up 'ere agin, ' ' he said, staring hard at Pug. * * For
God's sake, what for?"

"Well, yer see," said Pug, **all the time I've bin
out 'ere I've never 'ad a chance to see the inside of
a German trench; an' now there was a fust class
chance to git into one, an' a chance maybe of
pickin' up a 'elmet for a soo-veneer, I thought I'd
be a fool not to take it. You 'aven't none of yer
found a 'elmet yet, 'ave yer?" and he looked in-
quiringly round

** 'Elmet," said Billy Simson disgustedly.
**Blowed if yer catch me comin' back 'ere for a
bloomin' 'undred 'elmets. If I'd bin you, I'd a bin
snug in a 'ospital drinkin' beef tea, an' smoMn' a
fag by now. ' '

*'Ah!" said Pug profoundly. **But w'at good
was a week at the Base to me?"

**You would 'ave missed the rest of this rotten
show, any'ow," said Billy.

*' That's right," assented Pug, **and I might
'ave missed my chance to pick up a 'elmet.* I want
a blinkin' 'elmet — see — ^and wot's more, I'm goin'
to git one."



CHAPTER Vn



BUND MAN^S BUPP



The Sergeant stumbled round the comer of the
traverse and told the four men there that the
battalion was moving along the trench to the right,
and to **get on and follow the next file/' They
rose stiffly, aching in every joint, from their
cramped positions, and plodded and stumbled
round the corner and along the trench. They were
all a good deal amazed to see the chaotic state to
which it had been reduced by the shell fire, and
not only could they understand plainly now why
so many casualties had been borne past them, but
found it difficult to understand why the number
had not been greater.

**By the state of this trench,'^ said Larry,
** you'd have thought a battalion of mice could
hardly have helped being blotted ouf

*'It licks me,'' agreed Kentucky; '*the whole
trench seems gone to smash; but I'm afraid there
must have been more casualties than came past



us/'



98



BLIND MAN« BUFF 99

*'Look out!'* warned Billy Simson, " 'ere's
another,*^ and the four halted and crouched again
until the shell, which from the volume of sound of
its coming they knew would fall near, burst in the
usual thunder-clap of noise and flying debris of
mud and earth. Then they rose again and moved
on, and presently came to a dividing of the ways,
and a sentry posted there to warn them to turn off
to the left. They scrambled and floundered
breathlessly along it, over portions that were
choked almost to the top by fallen earth arid rub-
ble, across other parts which were no more than a
shallow gutter with deep shell craters blasted out
of it and the ground about it. In many of these
destroyed portions it was almost impossible, stoop
and crouch and crawl as they would and as they
did, to avoid coming into view of some part of the
ground still held by the Germans, but either be-
cause the German guns were busy elsewhere, or
because the whole ground was more or less veiled
by the haze of smoke that drifted over it and by
the thin drizzle of rain that continued to f aU, the
battalion escaped any concerted effort of the Ger-
man guns to catch them in their scanty cover. But
there were still sufficient casual shells, and more
than sufficient bullets about, to make the passage



» •



100 GRAPES OF WEATH

of the broken trench an uncomfortable and dan-
gerous one, and they did not know whether to be
relieved or afraid when they came to a spot where
an officer halted them in company with about a
dozen other men, and bade them wait there until
he gave the word, when they were to jump from
the trench and run straight aeross the open to the
right, about a hundred yards over to where they
would find another trench, better than the one they
were now occupying, then to '*get down into it as
quick as you can, and keep along to the leff
They waited there until a further batch of men
were collected, and then the officer warned them to
get ready for a quick run,

**You'll see some broken-down houses over
there, ^ ' he said ; * * steer for them ; the trench runs
across this side of them, and you can't miss it.
It's the first trench you meet; drop into it, and,
remember, turn down to the lef i Now — ^no, wait
a minute.*'

They waited until another dropping shell had
burst, and then at the quick command of the officer
jumped out and raa hard in the direction of the
broken walls they could just see. Most of the men
ran straight without looking left or right, but
Kentucky as he went glanced repeatedly to his



BLIND MAN^S BUFF 101

left, towards where the German .lines were. He
was surprised to find that they were evidently a
good way off, very much further off, in fact, than
he had expected. He had thought the last com-
munication trench up which they moved must have
been bringing them very close to our forward line,
but here from where he ran he could see for a
clear two or three hundred yards to the first break
of a trench parapet; knew that this must be in
British hands, and that the German trench must
lie beyond it again. He concluded that the line
of captured ground must have curved forward
from that. part behind which they had spent the
night, figured to himself that the cottages towards
which they ran must be in our hands, and that the
progress of the attack along there had pushed
further home than they had known or expected.

He thought out all these things with a sort of
secondary mind and consciousness. Certainly his
first thoughts were very keenly on the path he had
to pick over the wet ground past the honeycomb
of old and new shell holes, over aad through some
fragments of rusty barbed wire that still clung to
their broken or uptom stakes, and his eye looked
anxiously for the trench toward which they were
running, and in which they would find shelter from



102 GRAPES OF WEATH

the bullets that hissed and whisked past, or
smacked noisily into the wet ground.

There was very little parapet to the trench, and
the runners were upon it almost before they saw
it. Billy Simson and Larry reached it first, with
Pug and Kentucky dose upon their heels. They
wasted no time in leaping to cover, for just as they
did so there came the rapid rush-rush, hang-hang
of a couple of Pip-Squeak shells. The four tum-
bled into the trench on the instant the shells burst,
but quick as they were, the shells were quicker.
They heard the whistle and thump of flying frag-
ments about them, and Billy Simson yelped as he
fell, rolled over, and sat up with his hand reaching
over and clutching at the back of his shoulder, his
face contorted by pain.

*'What is it, Billy? '^ said Larry quickly.

**Did it get you, son?*' said Kentucky.

**TheyVe got me,*' gasped Billy. '*My Christ,
it do 'urt."

''Lemme look," said Pug quickly. ** Let's 'ave
a field-dressin', one o' yer."

Simson 's shoulder was already crimsoning, and
the blood ran and dripped fast from it. Pug
slipped out a ktiife, and with a couple of slashes
split the torn jacket and shirt down and across.



BLIND MAN^S BUFF 103

*'I don't think it's a bad 'un," he said. **Don't
seem to go deep, and it's well up on the shoulder
anyway. ' '

*'It's bad enough," said Billy, '*by the way it
'urts."

Kentucky also examined the wound closely.

* * I 'm sure Pug 's right, ' ' he said. * * It isn 't any-
ways dangerous, Billy."

Billy looked up suddenly. *'It's a Blighty one,
isn't it?" he said anxiously.

**0h, yes," said Kentucky; *'a Blighty one,
sure."

**6ood enough," said Billy Simson. ** If it's a
Blighty one I've got plenty. I'm not like you,
Pug; I'm not thirstin' enough for Germ 'elmets to
go lookin' any further for 'em."

One of the sergeants came pushing along the
trench, urging the men to get a move on and clear
out before the next lot ran across the open for the
shelter.

*^Man wounded," he said, when they told him of
Billy Simson. *'You, Simson! Well, you must
wait 'ere, and I'll send a stretcher-bearer back, if
ye 're not able to foot it on your own. ' '

**I don't feel much up to footin' it," said Billy



104 GRAPES OF WRATH

Simeon. **I ihiiik 1^11 stick here xmtil somebody
comes to give me a hand/'

So the matter was decided, and the rest pushed
along the narrow trench, leaving Simson squatted
in one of the bays cut out of the walL The others
moved slowly along to where their trench opened
into another running across it, turned down this,
and went wandering along its twisting, curving
loops until they had completely lost all sense of
direction.

The guns on both sides were maintaining a con-
stant cannonade, and the air overhead shook con-
tinually to the rumble and wail and howl of the
passing shells. But although it was difficult to
keep a sense of direction, there was one thing
always which told them how they moved — ^the
rattle of rifle fire, the rapid rat-tat-tatting of the
machine guns and sharp explosions of bombs and
grenades. These sounds, as they all well knew,
came from the fighting front, from the most ad-
vanced line where our men still strove to push
forward, and the enemy stood to stay them, or to
press them back.

The sound kept growing ominously louder and
nearer the further the Stonewalls pushed on along
their narrow trench, and now they could hear, even



BLIND MAN'S BUFF 105

above the uproar of the guns and of the firing
lines, the sharp hiss and zipp of the bullets pass-
ing close above the trench, the hard smacks and
cracks with which they struck the parapet or the
ground about it. The trench in which they moved
was narrow, deep, and steep-sided. It was there-
fore safe from everything except the direct over-
head burst of high-explosive shrapnel, and of these
there were, for the moment, few or none ; so that
when the men were halted and kept waiting for
half an hour they could see nothing except the
narrow strip of sky above the lips of the trench,
but could at least congratulate themselves that
they were put of the inferno in which they had
spent the night and the early part of the morning.
It was still raining, a thin, cold, drizzling rain,
which collected in the trench bottom and turned
the path into gluey mud, trickled down the walls
and saturated them to a sticky clay which daubed
the shoulders, the elbows, the hips, and haversacks
of the men as they pushed along, coated them with
a layer of clinging, slimy wetness, clammy to the
touch, and striking them through and through with
shivering chills. When they halted most of the
men squatted down in the bottom of the trench,
sitting on their heels and leaning their backs



106 GRAPES OF WEATH

against the walls, and waited there, listening to
the near-by uproar of the conflict, speculating on
how little or how long a time it would be before
they were into it actively ; discussing and guessing
at the progress the attack had made, and what
ground had been taken, and held or lost. Here
and there a man spoke of this point or that which
the attack had reached, of some village or hill, or
trench, which he heard had been taken. Usually
the information had been gleaned from wounded
men, from the stretcher-bearers and ammunition
carriers with whom the Stonewalls had spoken, as
they crossed and recrossed their trench early that
morning.

In the trench they now occupied they gleaned
no further news, because none of these wayfarers
to and from the firing-line passed their way.

^'Our front line cau^t be getting pushed very
hard,^' suggested Larry; "because if they were,
they'd have shoved us in support before now.''

"It looks to me," said Kentucky, "that they
have slid us off quite a piece to the right of where
we were meant to go. What lot of ours do you
suppose is in these trenches in front of us now?"
But of that nobody had any definite opinion,
although several made guesses, based on the



BLIND MAN'S BUFF 107

vaguest rumors, and knowledge of this regiment
or that which had gone up ahead of them.

'* 'Ark at the Archies/^ said Pug suddenly.
^^TheyVe 'avin^ a busy season on somebody.
D^yer think they're ours, or the 'Uns'f

^*I donH know,'' said Kentucky, ^*but I fancy
I hear the 'planes they're shooting at."

He was right, and presently they all heard the
faint but penetrating whirr of an aeroplane 's en-
gines, even above the louder and deeper note of
the cannonade and rifle fire.

' * There she is, ' ' said Larry. ^ * Can you see the
marks on her?"

''It's ours," said Kentucky. '*I see the rings
plain enough."

Although the aeroplane was at a good height,
there were several who could distinguish the
bull 's-eye target pattern of the red, white and blue
circles painted on the wings and marking the aero-
plane as British. For some time it pursued a
course roughly parallel to the line of the trench, so
that the Stonewalls, craning their heads back,
could follow its progress along the sky, and the
trailing wake of puflSng smoke from the shrapnel
that followed it. They lost sight of it presently
until it curved back into the range of their vision,



108 GEAPES OF WRATH

and came sailing swiftly over them again. Then
another 'plane shot into view above them, steering
straight for the first, and with a buzz of excited
comment the Stonewalls proclaimed it a Hnn and
speculated keenly on the chances of a * ^ scrap. ' '

There was a * * scrap, ' ' and in its opening phases
the Stonewalls had an excellent view of the two
machines circling, swooping, soaring, and diving
in graceful, bird-like curves. The ** Archies''
ceased on both sides to fling their shrapnel at the
airy opponents, because with their swift dartings
to and fro, and still more because of their proxim-
ity to one another, the Archie gunners were just as
liable to wing their own 'plane and bring it down,
as they were to hit the enemy one. For two or
three minutes the Stonewalls watched with the
wildest excitement and keenest interest the ma-
neuvering of the two machines. Half a dozen times
a gasp or a groan, or a chorus of comment ^ * He 's
hit," and "He's downed," and ''He's got .him,"
followed some movement, some daring plunge or
nose dive of one or other of the ' machines ; but
always before the exclamations had finished the
supposed injured one had righted itself, swooped
and soared upward again, and swung circling into
its opponent.



BLIND MAN^S BUFF 109

Once or twice the watchers thought they could
catch the faint far-off rattle of the aeroplanes'
machine guns, although amongst the other sounds
of battle it was difficult to say with any certainty
that these shots were fired in the air; but just
when the interest and excitement were at their
highest, a sharp order was passed along the trench
for every man to keep his face down, on no ac-
count to look upwards out of the trench, and offi-
cers and sergeants, very reluctantly setting the
good example by stooping their own heads, pushed
along the trench to see that the men also obeyed
the order.

^'Blinkin' sell, I calls it,'* exclaimed Pug dis-
gustedly. **The fust decent scrap between two
'planes I've ever 'ad a chance to see, and 'ere I'm
not allowed to look at it."

'*You wait until you get 'ome, and see it on the
pictures," said the Sergeant, who stood near them.
**It'll be a sight safer there. If you don't know
you ought to, that a trench full of white faces
lookin' up at a 'plane, is as good as sending a
postcard to their spotter upstairs sayin' the trench
is occupied in force; and I don't suppose," he con-
cluded, **you're any more anxious than I am for



110 GRAPES OF WRATH

that 'Un to be sendin' a wireless to his guns, and
'avin' this trench strafed like the last one was."

**From what I can see of it," said Pug, **that
*Un up there was ^avin' Is *ands too full to worrit
about wot was goin^ on down ^ere."

**Well, anyhow," said the Sergeant, **you
needn't keep yer eyes down looMn' for sixpences
any longer. Both the ^planes is out of sight."

**Well, I^m blowed," said Pug, *4f that's not a
sickener. 'Ere we 'as a fust-class fight, and us
in the front seats for seein' it, and they goes and
shifts off so we don't even know which side won."

And they never did. A minute later the anti-
aircraft guns broke out into fire again, their
peculiar singing reports easily distinguishable
from the other gun fire, even as the distant reports
of their shrapnel bursts in the air were distin-
guishable from the other sounds of many bursting
shells near the ground. But which of the * ^ Archi-
balds ' ' were firing they did not know. They could
only guess that one of the machines had been shot
down, and that the anti-aircraft guns of the oppos-
ing side were endeavoring to bring down the vic-
tor — ^but which was the victor, and whether he
escaped or not, was never known to the Stone-
walls.



BLIND MAN'S BUFF 111

"Bloomin' Blind-Man 's-Buff, I calls it," grum-
bled Pug. "Gropin* ronnd after 'Uns you can't
see, an' g^ttin' poked in the ribs without seein'
one — ^like BiUy was, ' '



CHAPTER Vin



OVEB THE TOP



The long-delayed and long-expected crisis in the
affairs of the Stonewalls came at last about mid-
day, and they were moved up into the front line,
into the battered trench held by the remains of an-
other battalion.

This line ran curving and zigzagging some fifty
to a hundred yards beyond the shattered and shell-
smitten fragments of a group of houses which
stood on the grass- and weed-grown remains of a
road. What was now the British front line of
trench had been at one time a German communica-
tion trench in part of its length, and apparently
some sort of support trench in another part. But
throughout its whole length it had been so battered
and wrecked, rent and riven asunder by shell fire,
by light and heavy bombs of every sort and de-
scription, that it was all of much the same pattern
— a comparatively wide ditch, filled up and choked
to half its depth in some places by fallen walls

112



OVEB THE TOP 113

and scattered sandbags, in other parts no more
than a line of big and little shell-craters linked up
by a shallow ditch, with a tangle of barbed wire
flung out in coils and loops in front of the trench,
with here and there a few strands run out and
staked down during the night.

The face of the trench was no longer a perpen-
dicular wall with a proper fire step, as all regu-
larly constructed trenches are made when possi-
ble ; the walls had crumbled down under the explo-
sions of shell and bomb, and although some at-
tempt had been made to improve the defenses,
actually these improvements had been of the
slightest description, and in many cases were de-
stroyed again as fast as they were made; so for
the most part the men of the battalion holding the
trench picked little angles and corners individually
for themselves, did their best to pile sandbags for
head cover, lay sprawling on or against the slop-
ing trench wall, and fired over the parapet.

At the point occupied by the Stonewalls the
opposing lines were too far apart for the throwing
of hand grenades, but the line was still suffering
a fairly heavy and uncomfortably accurate artil-
lery bombardment. The trench was strewn along
its length with a debris of torn sandbags, of packs



114 GBAPES OF WEATH

and equipments stripped from the wounded, of
rifles and bayonets, mess-tins, and trenching tools,
and caps and boots and water-bottles. Collected
here and there in odd comers were many dead,
because scattered along the whole length of line
there were still many wounded, and until these
had been safely removed there could, of course, be
no time or consideration spared for attention to
the dead.

The Stonewalls passed in single file along the
broken trench behind the men who stUl held the
position aud lay and fired over their parapet.
There were many remarks from these men, caus-
tic inquiries as to where the Stonewalls had been,
and why they had taken so long to come up ; ex-
pressions of relief that they had come ; inquiries
as to whether there was to be another attack, or
whether they were to be relieved by the Stone-
walls, and allowed to go back. The Stonewalls, of
course, could give no information as to what would
happen, because of that they themselves had not
the faintest idea. They were pushed along the
trench and halted in a much closer and stronger
line than the widely spaced men of the defending
force which had held it.

Larry remarked on this to Pug and Kentucky,



OVEB THE TOP 115

when at last the little group of which they were a
part was told by their Sergeant to halt.

**I suppose,** said Kentucky, **we're thicker
along this line because there's more of us.
Whether the same reason will hold good by this
time to-morrow is another proposition.'*

**I*m goin* to *ave a peep out,** said Pug, and
scrambled up the sloping face of the trench to
beside a man lying there.

** Hello, chum!** said this man, turning his head
to look at Pug. ** Welcome to our *ome, as the
text says, and you'll be a bloomin* sight more wel-
come if you're takin* over, and lettin* us go back.
I've 'ad quite enough of this picnic for one turn.'*

** *As it bin pretty *ot here!** asked Pug.

The man slid his rifle-barrel over a sandbag,
raised his head and took hasty aim, fired, and
ducked quickly down again. * * 'Ot ! * * he repeated.
**I tell yer *ell's a bloomin' ice cream barrow com-
pared to wot this trench 'as been since we come
in it. 'Ot? Myblanky oath!"

Pug raised his head cautiously, and peered out
over the parapet.

**I 8 'pose that's their trench acrost there," he
said doubtfully, **but it's a rummy lookin' mix!
up. Wot range are yer shootin' at!"



116 GRAPES OF WEATH

** Pretty well point blank/' said the private.
''It's about 200 to 250 they tell me/'

* * 'Oo 's trench is that along there to the left 1 ' '
asked Pug. *'It seems to run both ways."

*'I'm not sure," said the other man, ''but I
expect it's an old communication trench. This
bit opposite us they reckon is a kind of redoubt ;
you'll notice it sticks out to a point that their
trenches slope back from on both sides. ' '

"I notice there's a 'eap of wire all round it,"
said Pug, and bobbed his head down hastily at the
whizz of a couple of bullets. "And that's blinkin'
well enough to notice, ' ' he continued, ' ' until I 'as
to look out an' notice some more whether I likes
it or not."

He slipped down again into the tre^jjjS bottom,
and described such of the situation as he had seen,
as well as he could. He found the others discuss-
ing a new rumor, which had just arrived by way of
the Sergeant. The tale ran that they were to
attack the trenches opposite ; that there was to be
an intense artillery bombardment first, that the
assault was to be launched after an hour or two
of this.

"I 'ear there's a battalion of the Jocks joined
up to our left in this trench," said the Sergeant,



OVER THE TOP 117

**and there's some Fusilier crowd packin' in on
our right/'

**That looks like business/' said Larry; **but is
it true, do you think, Sergeant? Where did you
get it from!"

** There's a 'tiUery forward oflSoer a little piece
along the trench there, and I was 'avin' a chat
with 'is signaler. They told me about the attack,
and told me their Battery was goin' to cut the
wire out in front of us. ' '

Kentucky, who was always full of curiosity and
interest in unusual proceedings, decided to go
along and see the Forward Officer at work. He
told the others he would be back in a few minutes,
and, scrambling along the trench, found the Artil-
lery Subaltern and two signalers. The signalers
had a portable telephone connected up with the
trailing wire, and over this the Subaltern was
talking when Kentucky arrived. He handed the
receiver to one of his signalers, and crossing the
trench took up a position where by raising his
head he could see over the parapet.

^^Nxmiber One gun, fire," he said, and the sig-
naler repeated the words over the telephone, and
a moment later called sharply : * * No. 1 fired, sir. ' '

Kentucky waited expectantly with his eye on



118 GRAPES OF WEATH

the Forward OflSeer, waited so many long seconds
for any sound of the arriving sheU or any sign of
the Officer's movement that he was beginning to
think he had misunderstood the method by which
the game was played; but at that moment he
heard a sudden and savage rush of air close over-
head, saw the Forward Officer straighten up and
stare anxiously out over the parapet, heard tiie
sharp crash of the bursting shell out in front.
The Officer stooped his head again and called
something about dropping twenty-five and repeat-
ing. The signaler gave his message word for
word over the 'phone, and a minute later reported
again: **No. 1 fired, sir.''

Kentucky, not knowing the technicalities of gun-
ners' lingo, was unable to follow the meaning of
the orders as they were passed back from the of-
ficer to the signaler, from the signaler to the
Battery. There was talk of adding and dropping,
of so many minutes right or left, of lengthening
and shortening, and of ** correctors " ; but al-
though he could not understand all this, the mes-
sage was clear enough when the officer remarked
briefly :

** Target No. 1; register that," and proceeded
to call for No. 2 gun, and to repeat the compli-



OVER THE TOP 119

cated directions of ranges and deflection. Pres-
ently No. 2 found its target also, and the For-
ward Officer went on with three and the remain-
ing guns in turn. For the first few shots from
each he stood up to look over the parapet, but
after that viewed the proceedings through a peri-
scope.

Kentucky, establishing himself near the sig-
naler, who was for the moment disengaged, talked
with him, and acquired some of the simpler mys-
teries of registering a target, and of wire cut-
ting. * * He stands up at first, * ' explained the sig-
naler, in answer to an inquiry, ^'because he pitches
the first shell well over to be on the safe side.
He has to catch the burst as soon as it goes, and
he mightn't have his periscope aimed at the right
spot. After he corrects the lay, and knows just
where the round is going to land, he can keep
his periscope looking there and waiting for it.
It's not such a risky game then, but we gets a
heap of F.0.0. 's oasualtied doing those first peeps
over the parapet."

After the Forward Officer had got all his guns
correctly laid, the Battery opened a rapid and
sustained fire, and the shells, pouring in a rushing
stream so close over the trench that the wind of



120 GBAPES OF WRATH

their passing could be felt, burst in a running
series of reports out in front.

Kentucky made his way back to his own por-
tion of the trench, and borrowing a pocket look-
ing-glass periscope, clipped it to his bayonet and
watched for some time with absorbed interest the
tongues of flame that licked out from the burst-
ing shells, and the pu£Sng clouds of smoke that
rolled along the ground in front of the German
parapet. The destruction of the wire was plain ^
to see, and easy to watch. The shells burst one
after another over and amongst it, and against the
background of smoke that drifted over the ground
the tangle of wire stood up clearly, and could be
seen dissolving and vanishing under the streams
of shrapnel bullets. As time passed the thick
hedge of wire that had been there at first was
broken down and torn away ; the stakes, that held
it were knocked down or splintered to pieces or
torn up and flung whirling from the shell bursts.
Other batteries had come into play along the same
stretch of front, and were hard at work destroy-
ing in the same fashion the obstacle to the ad-
vance of the infantry. The meaning of the wire
cutting must have been perfectly plain to the Ger-
mans ; clearly it signified an attack ; clearly that



OVER THE TOP 121

signified the forward trenches being filled with
a strong atta<^ng force; and clearly again that
meant a good target for the German gons, a tar-
get upon which they proceeded to play with sav-
age intensity.

The forward and support Unes were subjected
to a tornado of high explosive and shrapnel fire,
and again the Stonewalls were driven to crouch-
ing in their trenph while the big shells pounded
down, round, and over and amongst thenu They
vere all very sick of these repeated series of
hammerings from the German guns, and Pug
voiced the idea of a good many, when at the end
of a couple of hours the message came along that
they were to attack with the bayonet in fifteen
minutes.

**I don't 8 'pose the attack will be any picnic,"
he said, **but blow me if I wouldn't rather be up
there with a chance of gettin' my own back, than
stickin' in this stinkin' trench and gettin' blown
to sausage meat without a chance of crookin' my
finger to save myself."

For two hours past the British guns had been
giving as good as they were getting, and a little
bit better to boot; but now for the fifteen min-
utes previous to the assault their fire worked up



122 GRAPES OF WEATH

to a rate and intensity that must have been posi-
tively appalling to the German defenders of the
ground opposite, and especially of the point which
was supposed to be a redoubt. The air shook to
the rumble and yell and roar of the heavy shells,
vibrated to the quicker and closer rush of the
field guns' shrapnel. The artillery fire for the
time being dominated the field, and brought the
rifle fire from the opposing trenches practically
to silence, so that it was possible with some de-
gree of safety for the Stonewalls to look over their
parapet and watch with a mixture of awe and de-
light tiie spectacle of leaping whirlwinds of fire
and billowing smoke, the spouting debris that
splashed upwards, through them ; to listen to the
deep rolling detonations and shattering boom of
the heavy shells that poured without ceasing on
the trenches in front of them.

**If there's any bloomin' Germans left on that
ground,'' said Pug cheerfully, *'I'd like to know
'ow they do it. Seems to me a perishin' black-
beetle in a 'ole could not 'ave come through that
shell fire if 'e 'ad as many lives as a cat."

It almost looked as if he was right, and that
the defense had been obliterated by the artillery
preparation, for when the order came along and



OVER THE TOP 123

the British Infantry began to scramble hurriedly
over the parapet, to make their way out through
the wire, and to form up quickly and roughly on
the open ground beyond it, hardly a shot was fired
at them, and there was no sound or sign of life
in the German trenches except the whirling smoke
clouds starred with quick flashes of fire from the
shells that still streamed overhead and battered
and hammered down on the opposite lines.

The infantry lay down in the wet grass and
mud for another two or three minutes, and then,
suddenly and simultaneously, as if all the guns
had worked together on the pulling of a string,
the shells, without ceasing for an instant to roar
past overhead, ceased to flame and crash on the
forward lines, but began to pound down in a belt
of smoke and fire some hundreds of yards be-
yond.. Along the length of the British line whistle
after whistle trilled and shrieked; a few figures
could be seen leaping to their feet and beginning
to run forward; and then with a heave and a
jumble of bobbing heads and shoulders the whole
line rose and swung forward in a long, uneven,
but almoiSt solid wave. At the same instant the
German trenches came to life, a ragged volley
of rifle fire crackled out, grew closer and quicker.



124 GBAPES OF WBATH

swelled into one tnmnltnons roll with the machine
guns hanunering and rapping and clattering
sharply and distinctly through the uproar. About
the ears of the running infantry could be heard
the sharp hiss and zipp and whistle and whine
of passing bullets; from the ground amongst
their feet came the cracking and snapping of bul-
lets striking and the spurts of mud thrown up by
them! At first these sounds were insignificaut,
and hardly noticed in the greater and more ter-
rifying clamor of the guns' reports, the shriek
and whoop of the passing shells, the crashing
bursts of their explosions. But the meaning and
significauce of the hissing buUet sounds were
made swiftly plain as the rifle and machine-gun
fire grew, and the riflemen and machine gunners
steadied to their aim and task. The buUet storm
swept down on the chargiug Une, and the Une
withered and melted and shredded away under
it. It still advanced steadily, but the ground be-
hind it was dotted thicker and closer and more
and more quickly with the bodies of men who fell
and lay still, or crawled back towards their para-
pet or to the shelter of the nearest shell crater.
The line went on, but half-way across the open
ground it began to show ragged and uneven with



OVER THE TOP 125

great gaps sliced out of it at intervals. The wet
ground was heavy going, and the fierceness of the
fire and the numbers struck down by it began to
make it look a doubtful question whether a suf-
ficient weight of men could reach their goal to
carry the charge home with any effect. From
one cause or another the pace slowed sensibly,
although the men themselves were probably un-
aware of the slowing.

Kentucky, Larry, and Pug kept throughout
within arm's length of one another. They had set
out under the same bargain to keep close and help
one another if need arose ; but Kentucky at least
confesses that any thoughts of a bargain, any
memory of an arranged program, had completely
left him, and very probably his thoughts ran in
much the same direction as three-fourths of the
charging line. His whole mind, without any con-
scious effort of reasoning, was centered on get-
ting over the open as quickly as possible, of com-
ing to hand grips with the Germans, of getting
down into their trench out of reach of the sleet-
ing bullets that swept the open. He arrived at
the conclusion that in the open he was no more
than a mere helpless running target for shells and
bullets ; that once in the German trench he would



126 GRAPES OF WRATH

be out of reach of these ; that if the trench were
held and it came to hand-to-hand fighting, at least
he would stand an equal chance, and at least his
hand could guard his head. How many men he
might have to meet, what odds would be against
him, whether the attackers would be thinned out
to a hopeless outnumbering, he hardly troubled
to think. That need could be met as it arose, and
in the meantime the first and more imperative
need was to get across the open, to escape the
bullets that pelted about them. He ran on quite
unconscious of whether the rest of the line was
still advancing, or whether it had been extermi-
nated. Arrived at the wrecked entanglements of
wire he did look round, to find Larry and Pug
close beside him, and all three plunged into the
remains of the entanglement almost side by side,
and began to kick and tear a way over and
through the remaining strands and the little
chopped fragments that strewed the ground.

Kentucky was suddenly aware of a machine-gun
embrasure almost in front of them, placed in an
angle of the trench so as to sweep the open ground
in enfilade. From the blackness of the embrasure
mouth flashed a spitting stream of fire, and it
came to him with a jerk that on the path he was



OVER THE TOP 127

taking he would have to cross that stream, that
the bullets pouring from it must inevitably cut
down his two companions and himself. He turned
and shouted hoarsely at them, swerved to one
side, and slanted in to the trench so as to escape
the streaming fire ; but, looking round, he saw that
the other two had not heard or heeded him, that
they were still plowing straight on through the
broken wires, that another few paces must bring
them directly in the path of the bullets' sweep.
He yelled again hoarsely, but realized as he did
so that his voice was lost and drowned in the
clamor of the battle. But at that instant — and
this was the first instant that he became aware
of others beside the three of them having come
so far — a man plunged past him, halted abruptly,
and hurled something straight at the black hole
of the embrasure. The bomb went true to its
mark, the embrasure flamed out a broad gush of
fire, a loud report boomed thunderously and hol-
lowly from it — ^and the spitting fire stream
stopped abruptly.

Kentucky ran on, leaped at the low parapet,
scrambled on top of it, swung the point of his
bayonet down, and poised himself for the leap.
Below him he saw three faces staring upward,



128 GRAPES OF WEATH

three rifle muzzles swing towards him and hai^g,
as it seemed, for an eternity pointed straight at
his f aoe.

His mind was so full of that overpowering
thought it had carried all the way across the open,
the desperate desire to get down into the trench,
that, confronted by the rifle muzzles and the
urgent need to do something to escape them, he
could not for the moment readjust his thoughts or
rearrange his actions. The instant *s hesitation
might easily have been fatal, and it is probable he
owed his life to another man who at that moment
leaped on the broken parapet and jostled him
roughly just as two of the rifles below flamed and
banged. As he half reeled aside from that jolt-
ing elbow he felt a puff of wind in his face, was
conscious of a tremendous blow and violent up-
ward leaping sensation somewhere about his head,
a rush of cold air on his scalp. His first foolish
thought was that the top of his head had been
blown away, and he half dropped to his knees,
clutching with one hand at his bare head, from
which the shot had whirled his helmet. And as he
dropped he saw beside him on the parapet the
man who had jostled him, saw the swift down-
ward fling of his hand as he hurled something into



OVER THE TOP 129

the trench and instantly flung himself to ground.
Kentucky realized what the bomber was doing just
in time to duck backwards. A yell from the trench
below was cut short by a crashing report, a spout
of flame and smoke shot up, and the parapet trem-
bled and shuddered. The bomber leaped to his feet
and without a word to Kentucky leaped across
the trench and ran along its further side, swing-
ing another bomb by its stick-handle. He carried
a lot more of these hanging and dangling about
his body. They jerked as he ran, and it flashed
across Kentucky's mind to wonder if there was
no possibility of two of them by some mischance
striking and detonating one another, or the safety
pins jolting out, when he saw the man crumple
suddenly and fall sprawling and lie still where he
fell. Reminded abruptly of his exposed position
and of those significant whiskings and swishings
through the air about him, Kentucky jumped to
his feet, glanced over into the trench, and jumped
down into it. At the moment he could see no other
British soldier to either side of him, but in the
trench bottom lay the three bodies of the men
killed by the bomb. A sudden wild and nervous
doubt shot into his mind — could he be the only
man who had safely reached the trench? But on



!•■



130 GRAPES OF WEATH

the same instant he heard cries, the rush of feet,
and two or three men leaped over and down into
the trench beside him, and he caught a glimpse of
others doing the same further along.

**Seen any of 'em?^^ gasped one of the new-
comers, and without waiting an answer, **Come
along, men; work along the trench and look out
for dug-outs.''

Kentucky recognized them as men of another
company of the Stonewalls, saw that they, too,
were loaded with bombs, and because he was not
at all sure what he ought to do himself, he fol-
lowed them along the trench. The bombers
stopped at the dark entrance to a dug-out, and the
officer leading them halted and shouted down it. In
reply a rifle banged and a bullet hissed out past
the officer's head. The men swore, stepped hur-
riedly aside, and one of them swung forward a
bomb with long cloth streamers dangling from it.
**Not that," said the officer quickly. **It'll ex-
plode on the stairs. Give 'em two or three Mills '
grenades." The men pulled the pins from the
grenades and flung them down the stairway and
the rifle banged angrily again. ** That's about
your last shot," said one of the men grimly, and
next instant a hollow triple report boomed out



OVER THE TOP 131

from deep below. **Eoll another couple down to
make sure/' said the officer, **and come along.''
Kentucky remembered the episode of the double
entrance to the dug-out in the other trench.
** There may be another stair entrance further
along," he said quickly. **Come on," said the
officer abruptly, **we'll see. You'd ii^tter come
with us and have your bayonet ready. I've lost
my bayonet men." He led the way himself with
a long ^Hrench dagger" in his hand — a murder-
ous looking long knife with rings set along the
haft for his fingers to thrust through and grip.
Kentucky heard a shout of * * C Company. Bally

along here, C."
''Td better go, hadn't I?" he asked. ^^I'm C,

and they're shouting for C."

^* All right," said the officer, **push off. Pick
t*p that rifle, one of you. It's a German, but it'll
do for bayonet work if we need it."

Kentucky had no idea where **C" Company
was calling from, and down in the trench he could
see nothing. For a moment he was half inclined
to stay where he was with the others, but the
shout came again, **C Company. Along here, C."
He scrambled up the broken rear wall of the
trench, saw a group of men gathering along to



132 GEAPES OF WEATH

the right, heard another call from them, and
climbed out to run stooping across and join thenu

*^ Hello, Kentucky,*' he heard, ** where you bint
Thought you was a wash-out.''

**I'm all hunkadory. Pug," he answered joy-
fully. **I missed you coming across just after
that bomber slung one in on the machine gun.
Lucky thing for you he did, too."

**Hey?" said Pug vaguely, ^*wot bomber, an'
wot machine gunt"

**Well, I didn't think you could have missed
seeing that," said Kentucky in astonishment.
**You and Larry were running right across its
muzzle. But where 's Larry t"

**Dunno," said Pug anxiously. '^I thought 'im
an' you would be together. He was with me not
more'n a minute or two afore we got in. Hope
'e 'asn't been an' stopped one."

**Do you remember where you got int" said
Kentucky. *'I believe I could find where that
machine gun was. If he was hit it must have been
there or in the trench here. I think we ought to
go and hunt for him."

But their officer and sergeant had other and
more imperative ideas as to their immediate
program. * * Pick up any of those picks and spades



OVER THE TOP 133

yon see lying abont/' ordered the sergeant, **and
try'n get this trench into shape a bit. The rest
of you get on to those sandbags and pile 'em up
for a parapet Sharp, now, every man there.
You, Pug, get along with it, bear a hand. That
arm of yours all right? If it isn't you'd best
shove along back to the rear."



CHAPTER IX



A SIDE SHOW



Although Pug and Kentucky were not allowed
to go and look for their lost chum, and in fact
did not know for long enough what had happened
to him, the tale of that happening, I think, fits best
in here. It is perhaps all the more worth the tell-
ing because it is a sample of scores of incidents
that may never be heard of outside the few who
participated in them, but are characteristic of one
of the most amazing features of the New Armies
— ^and that, mark you, is rather a big word, re-
membering we are speaking of something which
itself is nothing but one huge amazing feature —
the readiness and smoothness with which it has
fallen into professional soldiering ways and the
instinct for fighting which over and over again
it has been proved to possess. And by fighting
instinct I do not mean so much that animal in-
stinct which every man has hidden somewhere in
his make-up to look out for himself and kill the

134



A SIDE SHOW 135

fellow who is trying to kill him, but rather that
peculiar instinct which picks a certain comer of a
trench as a key to a local position, which knows
that if a certain bit of ground can be taken or held
it will show much more than its face value, which
senses the proper time to hang on and the right
moment to risk a rush.

These, of course, are the instincts of leadership,
and these are the instincts which the New Army
has shown it possesses, not only in its officers and
non-coms., but time and again — ^in innumerable lit-
tle-known or unknown incidents of battle that have
been lost in the bigger issues — ^in the rank and
file, in privates who never were taught or ex-
pected to know anything about leadership, in men
brought up to every possible trade, profession
and occupation except war. One can only suppose
it is an instinct deep rooted in the race that has
lain dormant for generations, and only come to
life again in the reviving heat of war.

It will be remembered that Larry became sep-
arated from his two friends in their rush on the
German line, and just as they reached the remains
of the barbed wire before the German trench.
For the greater part the wire had been uprooted
and swept away by the storm of British shells and



136 GRAPES OF WRATH

mortar bombs, but here and there it still remained
sufficiently intact to make a difficult and unpleas-
ant obstacle.

Larry and Pug, deflected from their course by
one or two yawning shell craters, ran into one of
these undestroyed patches of wire, and while Pug
turned to the left, Larry turned right and ran
skirting along its edge in search of a place
through. Several other men did the same, and by
the time they had found an opening there were
about a score of them to go streaming through the
gap and plunging at the broken parapet. Half of
them were shot down in that last dozen yards,
and as they opened out and went clawing and
scrambling at the parapet with rifles banging al-
most in their faces, hand grenades lobbed over to
roll down amongst their feet and explode in show-
ers of flying splinters. The few who for the mo-
ment escaped these dangers, knowing that every
instant they remained in the open outside the
trench carried almost a certainty of sudden death,
flung desperately at its parapet, over and down
into it among the Grerman bayonets, without stop-
ping to count or heed what the hand-to-hand odds
might be.

Larry Arundel, at the lip of the trench, sud-



A SIDE SHOW 137

denly finding himself poised above a group of some
four or five men, checked his downward leap from
a first instinctive and absurd fear of hurting the
men he would jump down upon, recovered him-
self, and swung his rifle forward and thrust and
again thrust savagely down at the gray coats and
helmets below him, saw the bright steel strike
and pierce a full half its length with no other feel-
ing than a faint surprise that he should sense so
little check to its smooth swing, shortened the grip
on his rifle, and, thrusting again as he jumped,
leaped down into the space his bayonet had
cleared. The last man he had stabbed at evaded
the thrust, and like a flash stabbed back as Larry
landed in the trench. But the two were too close
for the point to be effective, and Larry *s hip and
elbow turned the weapon aside. He found him-
self almost breast to breast with his enemy, and
partly because there was no room to swing a
bayonlBt, partly because that undefended face and
point of the jaw awoke the boxer's instinct, his
clenched fist jerked in a fierce uppercut hard and
true to its mark, and the German grunted once
and dropped as if pole-axed.

But there Larry's career would probably have
cut short, because there were still a couple of



138 GRAPES OF WRATH

men within arm's length of him, and both were on
the point of attacking, when another little batch
of belated attackers arrived at the trench. Sev-
eral of them struck in at the point where Larry
was engaged with his opponents, and that particu-
lar scrimmage terminated with some abruptness.

Larry was a little dazed with the speed at which
events of the past minute had happened and also
to some extent by the rather stunning report of a
rifle fired just past his ear by a somewhat hasty
rescuer in settlement of the account of his nearest
opponent.

**Wh-what's happened f he asked. **Have we
got this trench all right f

** Looks like it,*' said one of the others. **But
blest if I know how much of it. There didn't
seem to be much of our line get in along to the
right there to take their bit of front.''

** Let's have a look," said Larry, and scrambled
up the broken side of the trench. He stood there
a minute until half a dozen bullets whistling and
zipping dose past sent him ducking fast to cover.

** They've got the trench to our right safe
enough," he said, **and they seem to be advancing
beyond it. I suppose we ought to go on, too."

^^Wot's this fakement?" asked one of the men



A SIDE SHOW 139

who had been poking round amongst the debris of
the shattered trench. He held out a two-armed
affair with glasses at the ends.

**That,^' said Larry quickly, taking it and rais-
ing it above the edge of the trench — ^* that's some
sort of a periscope.^' He looked out through it
a moment and added: **And a dash good one it
is, too. • • • I say, that line of ours advancing on
the right is getting it in the neck. . . . Machine-
gun fire it looks like. . . . They've stopped. . . .
Most of 'em are down, and the rest running back
to the trench.''

He was interrupted by an exclamation from one
of the other men who had climbed up to look over
the edge.

**Look out," he said hurriedly. **Bomb over,"
and he dropped back quickly into the trench.

A German stick grenade sailed over, fell on
the trench parapet above them, rolled a little, and
lay still, and in another second or two went off
with a crash, half deafening and blinding them
with the noise and smoke, but hurting no one.
Some of the men swore, and one demanded angrily
where the thing had come from, and **Who frew
dat brick t" quoted another.

But there was little room for jests. One, two,



140 GRAPES OF WEATH

three grenades came over in quick succession ; one
going over and missing the trench, another falling
in it at the toe of a man who promptly and neatly
kicked it clear round the comer of the traverse,
where it exploded harmlessly; but the third fall-
ing fairly in the trench, where it burst, just as
a man grabbed for it to throw it out, killing him
instantly and sUghtly wounding one or two others.

** Who's got those Mills f said Larry hurriedly.
**You, Harvey — chuck a couple over the traverse
to the right. Must be some of them in there. ' '

Harvey drew the pins out of a couple of Mills '
grenades and tossed them over, but even as they
burst another couple of German grenades came
over, one bursting in the air and the other f aUing
to explode.

**IVe spotted them," suddenly said Larry, who
had been watching out through the periscope.
** There's some sort of trench running into this
about a dozen yards along. They're in there; I
saw the grenades come over out of if

Some of the men with him had moved back
out of section of trench under bombardment, and
as more grenades began to lob over there was a
mild stampede of the others round the traverse.



A SIDE SHOW 141

Larry went with them, but pulled up at the comer
and spoke sharply.

**See here, it's no good letting them chase ns
out like this. They'U only follow up and bomb
us out traverse by traverse till there's none of us
left to bomb out. Let's have some of those gre-
nades, Harvey, and we'll rush them out of it."

Some of the men hesitated, and others de-
murred, muttering that there weren't enough of
them, didn't know how many Germs there were,
ought to find an officer and let him know.

It was just here that Larry took hold and saved
what might have been an ugly situation. He saw
instinctively what their temporary or partial re-
tirement might mean. The advance on the right
had been held up, had evidently secured that por-
tion of the trench, but could only be holding it
weakly. The trench from which the grenades had
come was evidently a communicating trench. If
the Germans were free to push down it in force
they might re-secure a footing in the captured
main trench, and there would be no knowing at
what cost of time and men it would have to be re-
taken from them.

All this he saw, and he also saw the need for
prompt action. No officer, no non-commissioned



.142 GRAPES OF WRATH

oflSoer even, was with them, and by the time they
had sent back word of the position the Germans
might have secured their footing. Apparently
there was no one else there willing or able to
take command, so Larry took it.

He had never given a real order in his life —
even his orders to the office boy or typist at home
had always been in the form of **Will yon
please r^ or **Do yon mindr* He had no actnal
authority now to give commands, was the junior
in years and in service to several there. But give
orders he did, and, moreover, he gave them so
clear and clean-cut, and with such an apparent
conviction that they would be obeyed, that actu-
ally they were obeyed just as unhesitatingly and
wiUingly as if he had been Colonel of the regi-
ment.

In three minutes his dispositions were made
and his directions given, in four minutes his little
attack had been launched, in five minutes or little
more it had succeeded, and he was *4n possession
of the objective.^' He had about half a score of
men with him and a very limited supply of gre-
nades, obviously not sufficient strength to attempt
a deliberate bombing fight along the trench. So
at the greater risk perhaps, but with a greater



A SIDE SHOW 143

neck-or-nothing chance of success, he decided ta
lead his little party with a rush out of the trench
across the angle of the ground to where he had
seen the branching trench running into theirs.

Two men were told off to jump out on the
side they had entered, to run along under cover of
the parapet and shoot at any one who emerged
or showed in the entrance to the .communication
trench; two more to fling over a couple of gre-
nades into the trench section into which the com-
munication-way entered and follow it up with
their bayonets ready, one to push on along the
trench and bring any assistance he could raise, the
other to be joined by the two men above, and, if
the main attack succeeded, to push up along the
communication-way and join Larry ^s party.

This left Larry with half-a-dozen men to lead
in his rush over the open. The whole of his lit-
tle plans worked out neatly, exactly, and rapidly.
He waited for the crash of the two grenades his
bombers flung, then at his word **GoI'^ the two
men told off heaved themselves over the rear
parapet, and in a few seconds were pelting bullets
down the communication trench entrance; the
bombers scuffled along the trench without meeting
any resistance.



144 GRAPES OF WEATH

Larry and his men swarmed np and ont from
their cover, charged across the short, open space,
and in a moment were running along the edge of
the communication trench, shooting and stabbing
and tossing down grenades into it on top of the
surprised Germans there. There were about a
score of these clustered mainly near the juncture
with the other trench, and in half a minute this
little spot was converted into a reeking shambles
under the bursting grenades and the bullets that
poured into it from the two enfilading rifles.

Every man in that portion of trench was killed
— one might almost say butchered — ^without a
chance of resistance. Another string of Germans
apparently being hurried along the trench as re-
enforcements, were evidently stampeded by the
uproar of crashing bombs and banging rifles, the
yells and shouts of the attackers.

They turned and bolted back along their trench,
Larry's men in the open above them pursuing
and slaughtering them without mercy, until sud-
denly, somewhere across the open, some rifles and
a machine gun began to sweep the open, and a
storm of bullets to hail and patter about the little
party of Stonewalls.

Larry promptly ordered them down into the



A SIDE SHOW 145

trench, and they leaped in, and, raider cover from
the bullets above, continned to pnsh the retreating
Germans for another hundred yards along the
trench.

Here the enemy made a determined stand, and
Larry instantly realized that, with his weak force,
he had pushed his attack to the limit of safety.
He left a couple of men there to keep the enemy
in clay for a few minutes with a show of pressing
the attack with persistent bombing, and hurried
the others back to a point that offered the best
chance of making a stand.

He chose a short, straight stretch of trench
running into a wide and deep pit blown out by
one of our heavy shells. Round the edge of this
shell-crater pit ran a ready-made parapet thrown
up by the explosion, and forming a barricade
across the two points where the trench ran in and
out of it.

Man by man, Larry pointed out to his little
force the spot each was to occupy, and bade him
dig in for his life to make cover against the bomb-
ing that would assuredly be their portion very
soon. He himself crawled up on to the open to
some uprooted barbed wire he had noticed, was
dragging together all the tangled strands and



146 GRAPES OF WRATH

stakes he could move, when he noticed a rusty reel
of wire, half unwound, grabbed that, and shuf-
fled back into the trench.

A shrill whistle brought his two outposts hurry-
ing and hobbling in, one of them wounded in the
leg by a grenade fragment, the other with a clean
bullet wound through his forearm.

The barbed wire was hastily unreeled and piled
in loose coils and loops and tangles in the
straight bit of trench through which the Germans
must come at the pit, while from the pit barricade
one man tossed a grenade at intervals over the
heads of the workers into the section of trench
beyond them. But the wiring job had to be left
incomplete when the arrival of two or three
grenades gave warning of the coming attack, and
Larry and the others scrambled hurriedly over
the barricade parapet into the pit.

For tibe next ten minutes a hot fight — small in
point of the numbers engaged and space covered,
but savage in its intensity and speed — ^raged
round the pit. The Germans tried first to force
their way through by sheer weight of bombing.
But the Stonewalls had made full use of their
trenching tools and any scattered sandbags they
could pick up, and had made very good cover for



>



A SIDE SHOW 147

themselves. Each man was dug into a niche round
the inside of the parapet from which he could
look out either over the open ground or back into
the pit.

The Germans showered grenades over into the
wired trench and the pit, and followed their ex-
plosions with a rush for the barricade, Larry,
with one man to either side of him, behind the
pit rim where it blocked the trench, stopped the
rush with half-a-dozen well-placed Mills ^ gre-
nades.

Almost at once the enemy copied the Stone-
walls' first plan of attack, and, climbing suddenly
from their trench, made to run along the top and
in on the defense. But their plan failed where
Larry's had succeeded, simply because Larry had
provided its counter by placing a man to ke^p a
lookout, and others where they could open a
prompt rifle-fire from the cover of the pit's para-
pet. The attack broke under the rapid fire that
met them, and the uninjured Germans scuttled
back into their trench.

A fresh bombing rush was tried, and this time
pushed home, in spite of the grenades that met it
and filled the trench bottom with a grewsome
debris of mangled men, fallen earth, and torn wire.



148 GRAPES OF WEATH

At the end the rush was only stopped at the very
parapet by Larry and his two fellows standing np
and emptying their rifle magazines into the men
who still crowded into the shambles trench, tear-
ing a way through the wire and treading their
own dead under foot

More of the Stonewalls were wounded by frag-
ments of the grenades which each man of the at-
tackers carried and threw over into the pit before
him, and one man was killed outright at the para-
pet by Larry ^s side. He was left with only four
effective fighting men, and, what was worse, his
stock of grenades was almost exhausted.

The end looked very near, but it was staved off
a little longer by the return of one of the severely
wounded men that Larry had sent back in search
of help, dragging a heavy box of German stick-
grenades. Nobody knew how to use these. Each
grenade had a head about the size and shape of
a 1-lb. jam tin attached to a wooden handle a
foot long. There was no sign of any pin to pull
out or any means of detonating the grenade, but
Larry noticed that the end of the handle was
metal-tipped and finished off with a disc with
notched edges.

A quick trial showed that this unscrewed and



A SIDE SHOW 149

revealed a cavity in the handle and a short, looped
length- of string coiled inside. Some rapid aad
rather risky experiments proved that a pnll on
the string exploded some sort of cap and started
a fnse, which in turn detonated the grenade in a
few seconds.

**Neat/' said Harvey, the bomber. **Bloomin'
neat; though I don't say as it beats the old Mills \
But, anyhow, we 're dash lucky to have *em. 'Ere
they come again, Larry 1''

**Sock it in,'' said Larry briefly. "There's
more bombs than we'll have time to use, I fancy,
so don't try'n save them up." He shouted or-
ders for any of the wounded that could move them-
selves to clear out, and set himself to tossing over
the grenades as fast as he could pull the detonat-
ing-strings.

Then his last man on the lookout on the pit rim
yelled a warning and opened rapid fire, and Larry
knew that another rush was coming over the open.
That, he knew, was the finish, because now he had
no men left to keep up a fire heavy enough to stop
the rush above ground, and, if Harvey and he
went to help, the oeasing of their grenade-throw-
ing would leave the attack to come at him along
the shattered trench.



160 GRAPES OF WRATH

He and Harvey looked once at each other, and
went on grimly throwing grenades. Then Harvey
dropped without a word, and Larry, looking up,
saw a few Germans shooting over the pit rim.
They disappeared suddenly as he looked, cut down
— ^although he did not know that — by a heavy
rifle-fire that had been opened by the British-
owned trench behind him.

He yelled ^hoarsely at the one man left still fir-
ing from his niche up on the parapet, grabbed
the box with the remaining grenades, and made a
bolt across the pit for the other side and the
trench opening from it. The rifleman did the
same, but he fell half-way across, and Larry,
reaching cover, glanced round and saw the other
struggling to his knees, turned and dashed back,
and half dragged, half carried the man across, up
the crumbling edge of the pit, and heaved him
over into the trench mouth. Then he took up his
position behind the breastwork and made ready to
hold it to the last possible minute.

In that last minute assistance arrived — ^and
arrived clearly only just in time. Headed by an
officer, a strong detachment of the Stonewalls,
hurrying along the trench, found Larry standing
waist-high above the barricade jerking the deto-



A SIDE SHOW 151

nating-strings and hurling the last of his grenades
as fast as he could throw them into the pit, from
which arose a pandemonium of crashing explo-
sions, yells and shrieks, guttural curses and the
banging reports of rifles.

The Stonewalls swarmed, cheering, over the
barricade and down into the hole beyond like ter-
riers into a rat-pit. Most of the Germans there
threw down their rifles and threw up their hands.
The rest were killed swiftly, and the Stonewalls,
with hardly a check, charged across the pit into
the trench beyond, swept it clear of the enemy for
a full two hundred yards, and then firmly estab-
lished themselves in and across it with swiftly-
built barricades and plentiful stores of bombs.
Larry's share ended there, and Larry himself
exited from the scene of his first command quite
inconspicuously on a stretcher.



V



CHAPTER X



THE CX)trKTEB ATTACK



Kjsntttokt and Pug and their fellow Stonewalls
fell to work energetically, their movements has-
tened by a galling rifle or machine-gnn fire that
came pelting along their trench from somewhere
far out on the flank, and reaching the trench al-
most in enfilade, and by the warning screech and
crash of some shells bursting over thenL The
rain had ceased a few hours before, but the trench
was still sopping wet and thick with sticky mud.
It was badly battered and broken down, and was
little more for the most part than an irregular
and shallow ditch half filled with shattered tim-
bers, fallen earth, full and burst sandbags. Here
and there were stretches of comparatively unin-
jured trench, deep and strongly built, but even in
these, sandbags had been burst or blown out of
place by shell explosions, and the walls were crum-
bling and shaken and tottery. The Stonewalls
put in a very strenuous hour digging, refilling

162 \



THE COUNTER ATTACK 153

sandbag, piling them up, putting the trench into
some sort of shape to aflford cover and protection
against shell and rifle fire. There was no sun, bnt
the air was close and heavy and stagnant, and the
men dripped perspiration as they worked. Their
efforts began to slacken despite the urgings of the
officers and non-coms., bnt they speeded up again
as a heavier squall of shell fire shrieked up and
began to burst rapidly about and above the trench.

**I was beginning to think this trench was good
enough for anythin', and that we^d done diggin'
enough, ^^ panted Pug, heaving a half -split sand-
bag into place, flattening it down with the blows of
a broken pick-handle, and halting a moment to
lift his shrapnel helmet to the back of his head
and wipe a dirty sleeve across his wet forehead.
^^But I can see that it might be made a heap safer
yet.'*

** There's a plenty room for improvement,''
agreed Kentucky, wrenching and hauling at a
jumble of stakes and barbed wire that had been
blown in and half buried in the trench bottom.
When he had freed the tangle, he was commencing
to thrust and throw it out over the back of the
trench when an officer passing along stopped him.
* * Chuck it out in front, man alive, ' ' he said. * * We



154 GRAPES OF WRATH

don't want to check our side getting in here to
help nSy and it's quite on the cards we may need
it to help hold back the Boche presently. We're
expecting a counter-attack, you know."

''Do we knowf" said Pug, disgustedly, when
the oflSoer had passed along. **Mebbe you do, but
I'm blowed if I know anythink about it. All I
know I could put in me eye an' then not know it
was there even."

**I wish I knew where Larry is, or what's hap-
pened to him," said Kentucky. '*I'm some wor-
ried about him."

A string of light shells crashed overhead, an-
other burst banging and crackling along the
trench, and a procession of heavier high explo-
sive began to drop ponderously in geyser-hke
spoutings of mud and earth and smoke. The
Stonewalls crouched low in the trench bottom,
while the ground shook under them, and the air
above sang to the drone and whine of flying shell
fragments and splinters. Our own guns took up
the challenge, and started to pour a torrent of
light and heavy shells over on to the German
lines. For a time the opposing guns had mat-
ters all to themselves and their uproar completely
dominated the battle. And in the brief intervals



THE COUNTER ATTACK 155

of the nearer bangs and crashes the Stonewalls
could hear the deep and constant roar of gun-fire
throbbing and booming and rolling in full blast up
and down along the line.

**I s^pose the papers ^ud call this an ar-tillery
doo-el,^^ remarked Pug, **or re-noo-ed ar-tillery
activity/^

**I always thought a duel was two lots fighting
each other/' said a man hunkered down close in
the trench bottom beside him; **but the gunners'
notion of dueling seems to be to let each other
alone and each hammer the other lot's infantry."

** Seems like they're passing a few packets back
to each other though," said Kentucky. '*Hark at
that fellow up there," as a heavy shell rumbled
and roared over high above them, and the noise
of its passing dwindled and died away, and was
drowned out in the steadily sustained uproar of
the nearer reports and shell bursts.

** Stand to there!" came a shout along the
trench. **Look out, there, C Company. • . •
Wait the word, then let 'em have it. . . . Don't
waste a shot, though."

**Wot's comin' nowf" said Pug, scrambling
to his feet. Kentucky was already up and settling



156 GRAPES OF WEATH

himself into position against the front wall of the
parapet.

** Looks like that counter-attack we heard of/*
he said. *^And — ^yes, by the Lord, some counter-
attack too. Say, look at *em, will you? Jes* look
and see *em come a-boiling.**

Pug, snuggling down beside him, and pounding
his elbow down on the soft earth to make a con-
venient elbow-rest, paused and peered out into the
drifting haze of smoke that obscured the front.
At first he could see nothing but the haze, starred
with the quick fire flashes and thickened with the
rolling clouds of our guns * shrapnel bursts. Then
in the filmy gray and dun-colored cloud he saw
another, a more solid and deeper colored gray
bank that rolled steadily towards them.

' * Gaw *strewth, * * he gasped. * * Is that men f Is
all that lump Germans f Blimey, it must be their
*ole bloomin* army comin* at us.**

' ' There sure is a big bunch of *em, * * said Ken-
tucky. * ' Enough to roll us out flat if they can get
in amongst us. This is where we get it in the neck
if we can*t stop *em before they step into this
trench. It looks ugly. Pug. Wonder why they
don*t give the order to fire.**

**I*ve never bayoneted a *Un yet,** said Pug,



THE COUNTER ATTACK 157

''but mebbe 1^11 get a chawnce this time/* He
peered out into the smoke. *^Can you see if
theyVe got 'elmets on, Kentuck?*' he said anx-
iously. **I'm fair set on one o' them ^ehnets.*'
To Kentucky and Pug, and probably to most
of the rest of the Stonewalls* rank and file, the
German counter-attack boiled down into a mere
matter of the rapid firing of a very hot rifle into
a dense bank of smoke and a dimly seen mass of
men. Each man shot straight to his front, and
took no concern with what might be happening
to right or left of that front. In the beginning
the word had been passed to set the sights at point
blank and fire low, so that there was no need at
any time to bother about altering ranges, and the
men could devote the whole of their attention to
rapid loading and firing. So each simply shot and
shot and went on shooting at full speed, glancing
over the sights and squeezing the trigger, jerking
the bolt back and up, and pulling trigger again
till the magazine was empty; then, throwing the
butt down to cram a fresh clip of cartridges into
the breech, swinging it up and in again to the
shoulder, resuming the rapid shoot-and-load,
shoot-aujd-load until the magazine was empty
again. Each man was an automatic machine.



158 GRAPES OF WEATH

pumping out so many bullets in so many seconds,
and just because long drill and training had all
gone to make the aiming and shooting mechani-
cally correct and smooth and rapid it was me-
chanically deadly in its effect. And because the
motions of shooting were so entirely mechanical
they left the mind free to wander to other and,
in many cases, ridiculously trivial things. Ken-
tucky began to fear that his stock of cartridges
would not last out, began vaguely to worry over
the possibiUty of having to cease shooting even
for a minute, until he could obtain a fresh sup-
ply. Pug was fiUed with an intense irritation
over the behavior of his rifle, which in some mys-
terious fashion developed a defect in the loading
of the last cartridge from each clip. The car-
tridge, for some reason, did not slide smoothly
into the chamber, and the bolt had to be with-
drawn an inch and slammed shut again each time
the last cartridge came up. Probably the extra
motion did not delay Pug^s shooting by one sec-
ond in each clip, but he was as annoyed over it
as if it had reduced his rate by half. He cursed
his rifle and its parts, breech, bolt, and magazine
severally and distinctly, the cartridges and the
clips, the men and the machinery who had made



THE COUNTER ATTACK 159

each ; but at no time did he check the speed of his
shooting to curse. * * What *s the matter f ' ' shouted
Kentucky at last. **This Masted rifle, '* yelled
Pug angrily, jerking at the bolt and slamming it
home again, '* keeps stickin* all the time.'* Ken-
tucky had some half-formed idea of saying that it
was no good trying to shoot with a sticking rifle,
and suggesting that Pug should go look for an-
other, handing over meantime any cartridges he
had left to replenish his, Kentucky's, diminishing
store ; but just then two men came pushing along
the trench carrying a box of ammunition and
throwing out a double handful of cartridges to
each man. Kentucky grabbed. **0h, good man,''
he said joyfully; *'but say, can't you give us a
few more f ' '

Pug glanced round at the heap flung at his
elbow. ^*Wha's th' good o' themf " he snapped.
**F'r Gawd' sake rather gimme a rifle that'll
shoot. ' '

*'Eifle!" said one of the men; ^ there's plenty
spare rifles about"; and he stooped and picked
one from the trench bottom, dropped it beside
Pug, and pushed on. Pug emptied his magazine,
dropped his rifle, snatched up the other one, and
resumed shooting. But he was swearing again



160 GRAPES OF WEATH

before he had fired off the one clip, and that done,
flung the rifle from him and grabbed his own.
** Rotten thing, *^ he growled. ''It don^t fit, don't
set to a man's shoulder; an' it kicks like a crazy
mule. ' '

Both he and Kentuc^ had jerked out their
sentences between shots, delaying their shooting
no fraction of a second. It was only, and even
then reluctantly, when there was no longer a visi-
ble target before their sights that they slowed up
and stopped. And then both stayed still, with
rifles pointing over the parapet, peering into the
smoke ahead. Kentucky drew a long breath.
* ' They Ve quit ; and small blame to theuL ' '

**Got a bit more'n they bargained for, that
time, ' ' said Pug exultantly, and then * ' Ouch I ' ' in
a sharp exclamation of pain. ''What's the mat-
ter!" said Kentucky. "You feeling that arm?"
"No, no," said Pug hastily, "just my elbow
feelin' a bit cramped an' stiffish wi' leanin' on it."

The rifle fire was slackening and dying along
the line, but the shells still whooped and rushed
overhead and burst flaming and rolling out balls
of white smoke over the ground in front. "Wish
them guns 'd knock orf a bit till we see what sorter
damage we've done," said Pug. But along to the



THE COUNTER ATTACK 161

right with a roUing crash the rifles burst out into
full blast again. **Look out/* said Kentucky
quickly, **here they come again/* and he tossed
muzzle over the parapet and commenced to pump
bullets at the gray bulk that had become visible
looming through the smoke clouds again. He was
filled with eagerness to make the most of each
second, to get off the utmost possible number of
rounds, to score the most possible hits. He had
just the same feeling, only much more intensified,
that a man has at the butts when the birds are
coming over fast and free. Indeed, the feeling
was so nearly akin to that, the whole thing was
so like shooting into driven and helpless game,
the idea was so strong that the Germans were
there as a target to be shot at, and he there as a
shooter, that it gave him a momentary shock of
utter astonishment when a bullet hit the parapet
close to him and threw a spurt of mud in his face,
and almost at the same instant another hit glano-
ing on the top of his helmet, jolting it back on his
head and spinning it round until the chin-strap
stopped it with an unpleasant jerk on his throat.
He realized suddenly, what for the moment he had
completely forgotten, that he was being shot at
as well as shooting, that he was as liable to be



162 GRAPES OF WEATH

killed as one of those men ont there he was pelting
bullets into. Actually, of course, his risk was not
one-tenth of the attackers'. He was in cover and
the men advancing against the trench were doing
little shooting as they came. They on the other
hand were in the open, exposed full length and
height, were in a solid mass through and into
which the sleeting bullets drove and poured in a
continuous stream. Machine-gun and rifle fire
beat fiercely upon its face, while from above a
deluge of high-explosive shells and tearing gusts
of shrapnel fell upon it, rending and shattering
and destroying. And in spite of the tempest of
fire which smote it the mass still advanced. It
was cut down almost as fast as it could come on,
but yet not quite as fast, and the men in the
trencdi could see the front line constantly break-
ing and melting away, with ragged, shifting gaps
opening and closing quickly along its length, with
huge mouthfuls torn out of it by the devouring
shells, with whole slices and wedges cut away by
the scything bullets, but still filling in the gaps,
closing up the broken ranks, pressing doggedly
and desperately on and in on their destroyers.

But at last the attack broke down. It had cov-
ered perhaps a hundred yards, at an appalling



THE COUNTER ATTACK 163

cost of lives, when it checked, gave slowly, and
then broke and vanished. Most of the men left
on their feet turned and ran heavily, but there
were still some who walked, and still others who
even then either refused to yield the ground they
had taken or preferred the chance of shelter and
safety a prone position offered rather than the
heavy risk of being cut down by the bullets as
they retreated. These men dropped into shell
holes and craters, behind the heaps of dead, flat
on the bare ground; and there some of them lay
motionless, and a few, a very few, others thrust
out their rifles and dared to shoot.

A heavy shell screamed over and burst just
behind the Stonewalls' trencn. Another and an-
other followed in quick succession, and then, as
if this had been a signal to the German guns,
a tornado of shells swept roaring down upon the
British line. It was the heaviest and most de-
structive fire the Stonewalls had yet been called
upon to face. The shells were of every weight and
description. The coming of each of the huge
high explosives was heralded by a most appalling
and nerve-shaMng, long-drawn, rising torrent of
noise that for the moment drowned out all the
other noises of battle, and was only exceeded in



164 GRAPES OF WEATH

its terror-inspiring volnme by the rending, bel-
lowing crash of its burst; their lesser brethren,
the 5-in. and 6-in. H.E., were small by compari-
son, but against that their numbers were far
g^reater, and they fell in one long pitiless succes-
sion of hammer-blows up and down the whole
length of trench, filling the air with dirty black
foul-smelling smoke and the sinister, vicious, and
ugly sounding drone and whurr and whistle of
flying splinters; and in still larger numbers the
lighter shells, the shrapnel and H.E. of the field
guns, the ^^Whizz-Bangs'* and ** Pip-Squeaks,"
swept the trench with a regular fusillade of their
savage *' rush-crash'' explosions. The air grew
dense and choking with the billowing clouds of
smoke that curled and drifted about the trench,
thickened and darkened until the men could
hardly see a dozen yards from them.

Pug, crouched low in the bottom of the trench
beside Kentucky, coughed and spluttered, ** Bad's
a real old Lunnon Partickler," he said, and spat
vigorously.

An officer, followed by three men, crawled along
the trench towards them. **Here you are, Cor-
poral," said the officer, halting and looking over
his shoulder ; ^ * this will do for you two. Get over



THE COUNTER ATTACK 165

here and ont about fifty yards. Come on, the
other man. We'll go over a bit further along/'
and he crawled off, followed by the one man.

**Wot's the game, Corp'rilf asked Pug, as
the two began to creep over the top of the para-
pet. **List'nin' post,'' said the Corporal briefly.
^*Goin' to lie out there a bit, in case they makes a
rush through the smoke," and he and his compan-
ion vanished squirming over the shell-torn ground
in front

A few minutes later another couple of men
crawled along and huddled down beside Pug.
** Crump blew the trench in on some o' us along
there," said one. *' Buried a couple an' sent Jim
an' me flyin'. Couldn't get the other two out
neither. Could we, Jim!" Jim only shook his
head. He had a slight cut over one eye, from
which at intervals he mechanically wiped the blood
with a shaking hand.

* * Trench along there is a fair wreck, ' ' went on
the other, then stopped and held his breath at the
harsh rising roar that told of another heavy shell
approaching. The four men flattened themselves
to earth until the shell struck with a heavy jarring
THUMP that set the ground quivering. **Dud,"
said two or three of them simultaneously, and



166 GRAPES OF WEATH

** Thank God,'* said Kentucky, ^Hhe burst would
liave sure got us that time/'

*^Wot*s that they're shoutin* along there f
said Pug anxiously. ^ * Strewth ! ' * and he gasped
a deep breath and grabbed hurriedly for the bag
slung at his side. **Gas . . . * Helmets on/
they're shoutin'.''

Through the acrid odors of the explosives'
fumes Kentucky caught a faint whiff of a heavy,
sickly, sweet scent. Instantly he stopped breath-
ing and, with the other three, hastily wrenched
out the flannel helmet slung in its special bag by
his side, pulled it over his head, and, clutching
its folds tightly round his throat with one hand,
tore open his jacket collar, stuffed the lower edge
of the flannel inside his jacket and buttoned it up
again. All four finished the oft-drilled operation
at the same moment, lay perfectly quiet, inhaling
the pungent odor of the impregnated flannel, and
peering upward through the eye-pieces for any
visible sign of the gas.

They waited there without moving for another
five minutes, with the shells still pounding and
crashing and hammering down all round them.
Pug leaned over and put his muflled mouth close
to Kentucky's ear: *^They got a dead set on us



THE COUNTEE ATTACK 167

here," he shouted. ^* Looks like our miinber was
up this time, an 's if they meant to blow this trench
to blazes/'

Kentucky nodded his cowled head. It did look
as if the German gunners were determined to com-
pletely obliterate that portion of the trench, but
meantime — ^it was very ridiculous, of course, but
there it was — ^his mind was completely filled with
vague gropings in his memory to recall what per-
fume it was that the scent of the gas reminded
him of. He puzzled over it, recalling scent after
scent in vain, sure that he was perfectly familiar
with it, and yet unable to place it. It was most
intensely and stupidly irritating.

The shell fire worked up to a pitch of the most
ferocious intensity. None actually hit the portion
of trench the four were in, but several came dan-
gerously dose in front, behind, and to either side
of them. The wall began to crumble and shake
down in wet clods and crumblings, and at the
burst of one shell close out in front, a large piece
broke off the front edge and fell in, followed by
a miniature landslide of falling earth. The trench
appeared to be on the point of collapsing and
falling in on them.



168 GRAPES OF WRATH

*^We gotter move out o* this!*^ shouted Pug,
*'else we ^11 be buried alive/*

*^ What's the good of . . . don't believe there's
any one left but us . . • better get out of it," said
the man Jim. His voice was muffled and indis-
tinct inside his helmet, but although the others
only caught fragments of his sentences his mean-
ing was plain enough. The four looked at each
other, quite uselessly, for the cowl-like helmets
masked all expression and the eyes behind the
celluloid panes told nothing. But instinctively they
looked from one to the other, poking and twisting
their heads to bring one another within the vision
range of the eye-pieces, so that they looked
like some strange ghoidish prehistoric monsters
half -blind and wholly horrible. Jim's companion
mumbled something the others could not hear, and
nodded his shapeless head slightly. His vote was
for retirement, for although it had not been
spoken, retirement was the word in question in the
minds of all. Kentucky said nothing. True, it
appeared that to stay there meant destruction;
it appeared, too, that the Stonewalls as a fight-
ing force must already be destroyed . . . and
. . . and ... violets I was it the scent of violets!
No, not violets ; but some flower . . .



THE COUNTER ATTACK 169

Pug broke in. ^* There's no orders to retire/'
he said. * * There 's no orders to retire, ' ' and poked
and turned his head, peering at one after the other*
of them. '*We cam't retire when there ain't no
orders," waggling his pantomimic head trium-
phantly as if he had completely settled the matter.
But their portion of trench continued to cave in
alarmingly. A monster shell falling close out
on their right front completed the destruction.
The trench wall shivered, slid, caught and held,
slid again, and its face crumbled and fell in. The
four saw it giving and scrambled clear. They
were almost on the upper ground level now, but
the hurried glances they threw round showed
nothing bat L chnmed np gronnd. the drifting
curling smoke-wreaths, tinted black and green and
yeUow and dirty wHte, torn whirling asunder
every few moments by the fresh shell bursts which
intnrnponr«iontmorebinowingdond,. No man
of the Stonewalls, no man at all, coiQd be seen,
and the four were smitten with a sudden sense of
loneliness, of being left abandoned in this end-
of-the-world inferno. Then the man Jim noticed
something and pointed. Dimly through the smoke
to their left they saw one man running half
doubled up, another so stooped that he almost



170 GRAPES OF WEATH

crawled. Both wore kilts, and both moved for-
ward. In an instant they disappeared, but the
sight of them brought new life and vigor to the
four.

**The Jocks that was on our left,** shouted
Pug, **gettin* outer the trench into shell-holes.
Good enough, too. Come on.'*

They did not have far to seek for a shell-hole.
The ground was covered with them, the cirde of
one in many cases cutting the circle of the next.
There were many nearer available, but Pug
sheered to his left and ran for the place he had
seen the two Highlanders disappear, and the
others followed. There were plenty of bullets fly-
ing, but in the noise of shell-fire the sound of their
passing was drowned, except the sharp, angry hiss
of the nearer ones and the loud smacks of those
that struck the ground about them.

They had less than a dozen yards to cover, but
in that short space two of them went down. Jim's
companion was struck by a shell splinter and
killed instantly. Pug, conscious only of a violent
blow on the side, fell, rolling from the force of the
stroke. But he was up and running on before
Kentucky had well noticed him fall, and when
they reached the shell-hole and tumbled into it



THE COUNTEE ATTACK 171

almost on top of the two Highlanders there, Pug,
cautiously feeling round his side, discovered his
haversack slashed and torn, its contents broken
and smashed flat. **Fust time IVe been glad o* a
tin o ' bully, ' * he shouted, exhibiting a flattened tin
of preserved meat. **But I s'pose it was the bis-
cuits that was really the shell-proof bit.*'

**Are you hurt at all!'* said Kentucky. **Not
a ha'porth,'* said Pug. **Your pal was outed
though, wasn't 'e, chum!*'

The other man nodded. *S . . cross the neck
. . . *is 'eadtoo . • . as a stone. . . .'*

*^ You're no needin' them,'' said one of the
Highlanders suddenly. *^It's only tear-shells — no
the real gas."

The others noticed then that they were wearing
the huge goggles that protect the eyes from
*^tear," or lachrymatory shells, and the three
Stonewalls exchanged their own helmets for the
glasses with huge relief.

^*What lot are you!" said one of the Scots.
**0h, ay; you're along on oor right, aren't ye!"

**We was," said Pug; *^but I 'aven't seen one
o' ours since this last shell strafin' began. I'm
wondering if there 's any left but us three. Looks
like our trench was blotted out."



172 GRAPES OF WRATH

But on that he was corrected swiftly and dra-
matically. The pouring shells ceased suddenly to
crash over and about them, continued only to rush,
shrieking and yelling, high above their heads. At
the same moment a figure appeared suddenly from
the ground a little in front of them, and came
running back. He was passing their shelter when
Kentucky recognized him as the officer who earlier
had moved along the trench to go out in front and
establish a listening post. He caught sight of the
little group at the same moment, swerved, and ran
in to them. * * Look out, ' ' he said ; * * another attack
coming. You Stonewalls! Where's our trench!
Further back, isn *t it f

** What's left of it, sir,'' said Kentudiy.
** Mighty near blotted out, though.".

* * Open fire, ' ' said the officer. * * Straight to your
front. You'll see 'em in a nmiute. I must try'n
find the others."

But evidently the word of warning had reached
the others, for a sharp crackle of rifle fire broke
out along to the right, came rattling down towards
them in uneven and spasmodic bursts. The men
in the sheU-hole lined its edge and opened fire,
while the officer trotted on. A dozen paces away
he crumpled and fell suddenly, and lay still. In



THE COUNTEE ATTACK 173

the shell-liole they were too busy to notice his fall,
but from somewhere further back, out of the
smoke-oozing, broken ground, a couple of figures
emerged at the double, halted by the limp figure,
lifted and carried it back.

** There's still some of us left,*' said Pug, cheer-
fully, as they heard the jerky rifle fire steady down
and commence to beat out in the long roll of in-
dependent rapid fire.

**Not too many, though,'' said Kentucky anx-
iously. **And it took us all our time to stand 'em
off before, ' ' he added significantly. He turned to
the two Highlanders, who were firing coolly and
methodically into the thinning smoke. * * Can you
see 'em yetf "

**No," said one, without turning his head; **but
we've plenty cairtridges ... an' a bullet gangs
straight enough withoot seein '. ' ' And he and the
other continued to fire steadily.

Then suddenly a puff of wind thinned and lifted
the smoke cloud, and at the same instant all saw
again that grim gray wall rolling down upon them.
The five rifles in the pit crashed together, the bolts
clicked back, and the brass cartridge-cases winked
out and fell ; and before they had ceased to roll
where they dropped the five rifles were banging



174 GRAPES OF WEATH

again, and the five men were plying bolt and trig-
ger for dear life. Behind them and to the right
and left other rifles were drumming and roaring
out a furious fire, and through their noise rose the
sharp tat-tat-tat-tat of the machine guns. The
British artillery, too, had evidently seen their tar-
get, the observers had passed back the corrections
of range and rapid sequence of orders, and the
bellowing guns began to rake and batter the ad-
vancing mass.

But this time they had an undue share of the
work to do. For all the volume and rapidity of
the infantry fire, it was quickly plain that its
weight was not nearly as great as before, that the
intense preparatory bombardment had taken
heavy toll of the defenders, that this time the at-
tack had nothing like the numbers to overcome
that it had met and been broken by before. Again
the advancing line shredded and thinned as be-
fore under the rifle and shell fire, but this time
the gaps were quicker filled ; the whole line came
on at greater speed. In the pit the five men shot
with desperate haste, but Kentucky at least felt
that their effort was too weak, that presently the
advancing tide must reach and overwhelm them.
Although other shell-holes to right and left were



THE COUNTER ATTACK 175

occupied as theirs was they were slightly in ad-
vance of the ragged line, and must be the first to
be caught. There was nothing left thein appar-
ently but to die fighting. But if the others saw
this they gave no sign of it— continued merely to
fire their fastest.

One of the Highlanders exclaimed suddenly,
half rose, and dropped again to his knees. The
blood was welling from a wound in his throat, but
as his body sagged sideways he caught himself
with a visible effort, and his hands, which had
never loosed their grip on the rifle, fumbled at the
breech a moment, and slipped in a fresh clip of
cartridges. He gulped heavily, spat out a great
mouthful of frothy blood, spoke thidkly and in
gasps, * * Hey, Mao . • . tak' her, for . . . the last.
The magazine's full ..." And he thrust out the
rifle to the other Soot with a last effort, lurched
sideways, and slid gently down in the bottom of
the pit. The other man caught the rifle quickly,
placed it by his side, and resumed firing. The
others never ceased for a moment to load and fire
at top speed. Plainly there was no time to attend
to the dead or wounded when they themselves were
visibly near the end the other had met.

The German line was coming in under the guard



176 GRAPES OF WEATH

of the shells that the gunners dared not drop
closer for fear of hitting their own line. The rifles
were too few to hold back the weight of men that
were coming in now in a scattered rush.

Pug cursed wrathfully. ^*I do believe the
blighters is goin' to get in on us,*^ he said ; and by
his tone one might suppose he had only just re-
alized the possibility; was divided between as-
tonishment and anger at it. Kentucky, who had
looked on the possibility as a certainty for some
little time back, continued to pick a man of the ad-
vancing line, snap-shoot hurriedly at him, load
and pick another target. And away somewhere
in the back of his mind his thoughts worked aud
worried at the old, irritating puzzle — ** Lilies, no;
but something like them . . . heavy, sweetish . . .
not lilies . . . what other flower, now . . .**; Jim,
the third Stonewall, glanced back over his shoul-
der. **Why can^t them fellows back there shoot
a bit quicker!** he said irritably. **They*ll have
this lot a-top o* us if they don*t look out.** Ken-
tucky, his fingers slipping in a fresh cartridge-clip,
his eye singling out a fresh mark, was slightly
amused to notice that this man, too, seemed sur-
prised by the possibility of the Germans breaMng
through their fire; and all the while **. . . lilac,



THE COUNTEE ATTACK 177

stocks, honeysuckle, hyacinth . . . hyacinth, hya-
cinth, no ... '^; the Scot lifted the dead man's
rifle and put it on the ledge at his right elbow.

**Strewth,** said Pug, with confident cheerful-
ness. *^ Won't our chaps make them 'Uns squeal
when they gets close enough for the baynit!''

The shells continued to rush and scream over-
head, and burst in and over the mass of the at-
tackers. But the front line was well in under this
defense now, scrambling and struggling over the
broken ground. The nearest groups were within
thirty to forty yards.

They were near enough now for the bombers
to come into play, and from the scattered shell-
holes along the British line little black objects be*
gan to whiri and soar out into the air, and the
sharp crashes of the exploding Mills' grenades
rose rapidly into a constant shattering series that
over-ran and drowned out the rolling rifle fire.
The ground out in front belched quick spurts of
flame and smoke, boiled up anew in another
devil's cauldron of destruction.

The advancing Germans were for the moment
hidden again behind the swirling smoke bank,
but now they too were using their bombs, and the
stick-grenades came sailing out of the smoke;



178 GRAPES OF WRATH

curving over, bombing down and rolling or bucket-
ing end over end to burst about the British line.
One fell fairly in the shell-crater beside Kentucky,
and he had only bare time to grab at it, snatch it
up and fling it clear before it burst. And yet,
even as he snatched half expecting the thing to
go off in his hand, his mind was still running on
the memory quest after the elusive name of that
scent he had forgotten.

The German line emerged from the smoke, rag-
gedly but yet solidly enough to overwhelm the
weakened defense. Plainly this was the end.

** Roses, *^ said Kentucky, suddenly and trium-
phantly. * * Roses — ^tuberoses. That 's it exactly. * '



CHAPTEE XI



FOBWABD OBSEBVING



Among the stock situations of the melodrama, one
of the most worked to death is that of the be-
leaguered garrison at the last gasp, and the thrill-
ing arrival of the rescuing force at the critical
moment. It is so old and threadbare now that
probably no theater would dare stage it; but in
the war the same situation has been played again
and again in the swaying and straining lines of
battle in every variety of large and small scale.
What the theater has rejected as too theatrical,
the artificial as too artificial, the real has accepted
as so much a conunonplace that it is hardly re-
marked. Actually the battle line is one long series
of critical situations on one side or the other, the
timely arrival, or failure to arrive, of assistance
at the critical moment. The great difference is
that in the theater the rescue never fails to arrive,
in war it often does.
Certainly the Stonewalls were as near the last

179



180 GRAPES OF WRATH

gasp as ever dramatist would dare bring Ms
crisis ; but when their rescue came they were too
busy helping it, too busy pushing the Germans
back into what they hoped would be a similar un-
pleasant situation (without the timely rescue) to
bother about it being a ** dramatic situation*^
at all.

The Scot and the three Stonewalls shooting
from the shell crater a little in front of the thin
and scattered line were close enough to the front
groups of the advancing German Une to distin-
guish the features of the men^s faces,, when they
were suddenly aware that the groups were going
down : were vanishing from before their eyes, that
the charging line came no nearer, that its front,
if anything, receded. The front lines were being
cut down now faster than they could advance,
and the lines which fell dropped out of the low
vision line of the defenders, and were hidden in
the low-hanging smoke haze and in the welter of
shell-pits, furrows, and heaps of earth over which
the advance moved. The sound of the rifle fire
swelled suddenly and heavily; the air grew vi-
brant with the hiss and zipp of bullets.

The four in the shell pit continued to give all
their attention to rapid shooting until the sound



FORWARD OBSERVING 181

of running footsteps and shouting voices made
them turn. All along the line to right and left of
them they could see figures running forward in
short rushes, halting to fire, running on again,
dropping into holes and opening a rapid fire from
their cover. Into the pit beside the four tiunbled
three men one after another, panting and blowing,
but shouting and laughing. ** Cheer oh, mates/'
calleid one. "Give us a bit o' room on the front
edge there, will you!** Each of the three carried
some burden. They clustered closely together a
moment, but with a delay of no more than seconds
stood up and began to hoist into position on the
pit's edge a light machine gun. "Let *er rip,
Bill,'* said one, who wore the tunic of an officer;
and Bill, crouching behind his gun, started to "let
*er rip" in a stream of fire jets and clattering re-
ports.

"You boys were pretty near the limit, eh!"
said the officer. * * Mighty near, * * said Kentucky ;
"you just sat into the game in time to stop *em
scooping the pool, sir. * '

"Hey, Chick, get a move on wi' that loadin*
there," said Bill; "you're hardly keepin' the ol'
coffee mill grindin'."

"You're Anzacs, ain't you!" said Pug, noticing



182 GRAPES OF WEATH

the shirt-tunic the oflScer wore. Bill was bare-
headed ; Chick wore a metal helmet crammed down
on top of his slouch hat.

*^ That's what,*' said Chick, feverishly busy
with his loading. **What crowd are youT'

*' Fifth Sixth Stonewalls,'' said Pug.

** You was damn near bein' First 'n' Last Stone-
colds this trip, ' ' said Chick. * * Good job we buzzed
in on you.*'

A few yards away another machine gun, peer-
ing over the edge of a shell crater, broke out in
frantic chattering reports.

*^ That's Bennet's gun, I expect,'' said the offi-
cer; *^I'll just slide over and see how he goes.
Keep her boiling here, and mind you don't move
out of this till you get the word."

Chick nodded. **Eight-oh!" he said, and the
officer climbed out of the hole and ran off.

For another minute or two the machine gun
continued to spit its stream of bullets. ** They 're
breaking again," said Kentucky suddenly; *^my
Lord, look how the guns are smashing them. ' '

The attack broke and fell back rapidly, with the
running figures stumbUng and falling in clusters
under the streaming bullets and hailing shrapnel.
In less than half a minute the last running man



FORWAED OBSEEVING 183

had disappeared, the ground was bare of moving
figures, but piled with dead and with those too
badly wounded to crawl into cover.

** First round to us,*' said Bill cheerfully, and
cut off the fire of his gun. **An* last move to a
good many o * them blokes out there, ' ' said Chick ;
' * they fairly got it in the neck that time. I haven 't
seen such a bon^r target to strafe since we was in
GaUpoli.**

* * Is there many o * you chaps here f ' * said Pug.
^*Dunno rightly,*' said Chick, producing a packet
of cigarettes. * * 'Bout time for a smoke-oh, ain 't
it, Billf"

*^I'm too blame dry to smoke," said Bill.
** Wonder wot we're waitin' 'ere for now. D'you
think the other battalions is upf "

* * Have you heard anything about how the show
is going!" said Kentucky.

^*Good-oh, tiiey tell us," said Chick. *^We saw
a big bunch o' prisoners back there a piece, an'
we hear there's two or three villages taken. We
came up here to take some other village just in
front here. I s'pose they'll loose us on it pres-
ently."

There was a short lull in the gunfire, and the
noisy passage of the shells overhead slowed down.



i



184 GRAPES OF WRATH

A shout was heard: ** Close in on your right,
Stonewalls. Rally along to the right/'

**Hear that!*' said Pug, *Hhere is some Stone-
walls left, then. Blimey, if I wasn't beginnin' to
think we was the sole survivors."

**We'd best move along," said Kentucky, and
the three made ready. **Well, so long, mates,"
said Chick, and **See you in Berlin — or the nex'
world," said Bill lightly.

**Tio your right, Stonewalls; close to your
right, ' ' came the shout again, and the three clam-
bered out of their hole and doubled in across the
torn ground to their right. There were other men
doing the same, stooped low, and taking advan-
tage of any cover they found, and gradually the
remains of the battalion gathered loosely together,
in and about the remains of the old trench. Pug
and Kentucky anxiously questioned every man
they met as to whether they had seen anything of
Larry Arundel, but could get no tidings of him.
The battalion was rapidly if roughly sorted out
into its groups of companies, and when this was
done and there were no signs of Larry, little could
be concluded but that he had been killed or
wounded. **He'd sure have been looking for us,"
said Kentucky; '^I'm afraid he's a wash-out.



9J



FOEWAED OBSERVING 185

** Looks like it,*' said Pug sadly. **But mebbe
he's only wounded. Let's hope it's a cushy one."

The guns were opening behind them again, and
bombarding with the utmost violence a stretch of
the ground some little distance in front. **It's a
village we're to take," one of the sergeants told
them. **That was our objective when the German
counter-attack stopped us. We were to attack,
with the Anzacs in support. Suppose we're going
on with the original program; but we're pretty
weak to tackle the job now. Hope the Jocks on
the left didn't get it too bad."

* * Should think we was due for a bit of an ease-
oflf , ' ' said Pug. * * It 's long past my usual desh-oo-
nay time as it is."

An officer moved along the line. **Now, boys,
get ready," he said, **the next bit's the last. Our
turn's over when we take this village. Make a
quick job of it."

In front of them the ground was shrouded again
with drifting smoke, and out beyond the broken
ground and the remains of a shattered parapet
they could see the flashing fires and belching
smoke clouds of the shells that continued to pour
over and down. In a minute or two the fire lifted
back from the belt where it had been thundering,



186 GEAPES OF WEATH

and at that the Stonewalls, with the Highlanders
to one side and another regiment to the other,
rose and began to advance. From their front there
came little opposition, bnt from somewhere ont on
the flank a rain of machine-gun bullets swept driv-
ing down upon them. The Stonewalls pushed on
doggedly. It was heavy going, for the ground
was torn and plowed up in innumerable furrows
and pits and holes and ridges, laced with clutch-
ing fragments of barbed-wire, greasy and slippery
with thick mud. The Stonewalls went on slowly
but surely, but on their right the other regiment,
which had perhaps caught the heavier blast of fire,
checked a little, struggled on again gamely, with
men falling at every step, halted, and hastily
sought cover amongst the shell holes. The Stone-
walls persisted a little longer and went a little fur-
ther, but the fire grew fiercer and faster, and pres-
ently they too, with the Highlanders on their left,
flung down pantingly into such cover as they could
find.

Kentucky and Pug had struggled along to-
gether, and sought shelter from the storming bul-
lets in the same deep shell hole. Three minutes
later an officer crawled over the edge and tumbled
in after them. He was wounded, the blood



FOEWAED OBSEEVING 187

streaming from a broken hand^ a torn thigh^ and
a bnllet wound in the ned^.

**One of you will have to go back,*' he said
faintly; "I can't go further. You, Lee,*' and he
nodded at Kentucky; **d'you think you can take a
message through to the gunners f

**Why, sure,'' said Kentucky, promptly.
** Leastways, I can try."

So the officer crawled to the edge of the pit
and pointed to where, amongst some scattered
mounds of earth, they had located the nest of ma-
chine guns. Then he pointed the direction Ken-
tucky must take to find the Forward Observing
Officer of Artillery. ** About a hundred yards be-
hind that last trench we were in, ' ' said the officer.
* * Look, you can see a broken bit of gray wall. Get
back to there if you can, and tell the officer where
these machine guns are. Tell him they're holding
us up and the CO. wants him to turn every gun
he can on there and smash them up. Take all the
cover you can. You can see it's urgent we get the
message through, and I don't know where any of
the regular runners are."

**Eight, sir," said Kentucky; /^I'U get it
through." He nodded to Pug, ^^S'long, Pug," and
Pug nodded back, **So long, Kentuck. Goo'



188 GEAPES OF WEATH

lucf Kentucky scrambled from the hole and
went off, crouching and dodging and running. No
other man was showing above ground, and as he
ran he felt most horribly lonely and appallingly
exposed. He took what cover he could, but had
to show himself above ground most of the time,
because he gained little in safety and lost much
in time by jumping in and out of the shell holes.
So he skirted the larger ones and ran on, and came
presently to the line of Anzacs waiting to support.
He hardly waited to answer the eager questions
they threw him, but hurried on, crossed the
ruined fragments of the old trench, found pres-
ently a twisted shallow gully that appeared to ruh
in the direction he wanted, ducked into it> and
pushed on till he came almost abreast of the gray
wall. He had to cross the open again to come to
it, and now, with a hazy idea that it would be a
pity to fail now, took infinite precautions to crawl
and squirm from hole to hole, and keep every scrap
of cover he could. He reached the wall at last
and crept round it, exulting in his success. He
looked round for the officer — ^and saw no one. A
shock of amazement, of dismay, struck him like a
blow. He had struggled on with the one fixed
idea so firmly in his mind, looking on the gray wall



FORWARD OBSERVING 189

so definitely as his goal, measuring the distance to
it, counting the chances of reaching it, thioking no
further than it and the deUvery of his message
there, that for a moment he felt as lost, as helpless
as if the sun had vanished at noon. He was just
recovering enough to be beginning to curse his
luck and wonder where he was to look f 6r the lost
officer when a loud voice made him jump. * * Sec-
tion fire ten seconds, ' ' it said, and a moment later
a hollow and muffled voice repeated tonelessly:
** Section fire ten seconds.'' Kentucky looked
round him. A dead man sprawled over the edge
of a shell hole, a boot and leg protruded from be-
hind some broken rubble, but no living man was in
sight, although the voices had sounded almost el-
bow close.

** Hullo," said Kentucky loudly. ** Artillery.
Where are you, sirf

* * Hullo, ' ' answered the voice. * * Who is there t ' '
and from a tumbled pile of sandbags at the end
of the broken wall a head was cautiously raised.
"Do you want me? Keep down out of sight. I
don't want this place spotted."

Kentucky was creeping carefully towards him
when a sepulchral voice from underground some-



190 GRAPES OF WRATH

where made him jmnp. * * Beg pardon, sir. Didn 't
catch that last order, sir.''

**A11 right, Ridley,'' said the oflScer. *^I was
talking to some one up here"; and to Kentucky,
^^Whatisitl"

Kentucky gave his message briefly. *^ Right,"
said the officer, pulling out a soiled map. * * Come
along beside me here,' and see if you can point the
spot from here. Careful now. Keep down. If
they spot this for an Oh Pip^ they'll shell us oflf
the earth."

The officer was a young man, although under the
mask of dirt and mud splashes and unshaven chin
he might have been any age. He was sprawled
against a broken-down breastwork of f aUen bricks
and timber, with a rough strengthening and but-
tressing of sandbags, and an irregular shaped
opening opposite his head to look out from. Ken-
tucky sidled to the opening and looked long and
carefully for landmarks on the smoke-clouded
ground before him. He found the task difficult,
because here he was on slightly higher ground,
from which the aspect appeared utterly diflFerent
to the little he had seen of it from below. But at
lasit he was able to trace more or less the points

*0.P. Observation Post



FOEWAED OBSEEVING 191

over which he had passed, to see some of the An-
zacs crouching in their cover and moving cau-
tiously about behind it, and from that to locate the
Stonewalls ^ position and the rough earth heaps —
which now he could see formed part of an irregu-
lar line of trench — ^where the machine-guns were
supposed to be. He pointed the place out to the
officer, who looked carefully through his glasses,
consulted his map, looked out again.

** Likely enough spot,'^ he commented. **It's
been well strafed with shell fire already, but I
suppose they have their guns down in deep dug-
outs there. Anyhow, we '11 give 'em another going
over. Eidley I ' '

* ^ Sir, * ' answered the voice from below. * * Stop.
Fresh target. Machine-guns in trench. All
guns. . . . ' ' and followed a string of orders about
degrees and yards which Kentucky could not fol-
low. **Now you watch the spot,'' said the officer
when the voice had reported **A11 ready, sir," and
he had settled himself in position with glasses to
his eyes. * * Watch and see if the shells land about
the place you think the guns are. ' ' He passed an
order to fire, and a few seconds later said sharply,
*^There! See them!"

But Kentucky had not seen them, and had ,to



192 GRAPES OF WRATH

confess it. Or rather he had not seen these par-
ticular bursts to be sure of them, because the
whole air was puffing and spurting with black
smoke and white smoke and yellowish smoke.

^^They were a bit left and beyond where I
wanted 'em/* said the officer. **We'll try again.
I *m firing four guns together. Look for four white
smoke bursts in a bunch somewhere above your
earth heaps. *'

**See themr* ^*I got 'em,'* exclaimed the offi-
cer and Kentucky simultaneously a moment later.
Kentucky was keyed up to ao excited elation.
This was a new game to him, and he was enjoying
it thoroughly. He thought the four bursts were
exactly over the spot required, but the more
experienced observer was not so satisfied, and
went on feeling for his target with another couple
of rounds before he was content. But then he
called for high explosive, and proceeded to deluge
the distant trench with leaping smoke clouds,
flashes of fire, and whirlwinds of dust and earth.
Kentucky watched the performance with huge
satisfaction, and began to regret that he had not
joined the artillery. It was so much better, he
concluded, to be snugly planted in a bit of cover
calling orders to be passed back per telephone and



FORWAED OBSEEVING 193

watching the shells play on their target. He was
soon to find that this was not quite all the ganners '
business. He ducked suddenly back from the
lookout as a shower of bullets threshed across the
ground, swept up to the broken wall, and hailed
rattling and lashing on and round it. The hail
continued for some seconds and stopped suddenly.
**Some beast out there,'' said the officer reflec-
tively, ^*has his suspicions of this spot. That's
the third dose I Ve had in the last half -hour. Ma-
chine gun."

He went on with his firing, watching through
his glass and shouting corrections of aim to the
signaler below if a gun went off its target. An-
other shower of bullets clattered against the
stones, and two spun ricocheting and shrieking
through the loophole. Kentucky began to think
observing was hardly the safe and pleasant job he
had uWned. "AfrL my UtUe ei^hteen-poLder
pills won't make enough impression there, if
they're in dug-outs," said the officer. "Think I'll
go 'n ask the Brigade to turn the Heavies on to that
lot. If you're going back you can tell your CO.
I'm fixing it all right, and we'll give 'em a good
hammering. ' '

A shell shrieked up and burst dose overhead.



194 GRAPES OF WEATH

followed in quick succession by another and an-
other.

** Better wait a bit before you start/' said the
Forward OflBicer. ** Looks as if they might be
making it hot round here for a bit. Come along
below while I talk to the Brigade. Carefully now.
Don't let 'em spot you."

The two crawled back, and then dived down a
steep stair into a deep dug-out. Close to the en-
trance a telephonist sat on the ground with an in-
strument beside him. The oflScer squatted beside
him and worked the *^ buzzer" for a minute, and
then explained the situation to whoever was at
the other end.

^'That's aU right," he said at the finish. *'The
Heavies are going to hot 'em a bit You'd better
wait a little longer, ' ' he continued, as the dug-out
quivered to a muffled crash somewhere above them.
* ^They're still pasting us. I'm going up to ob-
serve for tiie Heavies," he said, turning to the
signaler. **You just pass my orders back and
the battery will put them through. ' '

He disappeared up the narrow stair just as
another heavy shell crashed down. The signaler
set his instrument beside him, lifted the receiver
to his head, and leaned back wearily against the



FORWAED OBSERVING 195

wall. * * Are yon ready, sir f he shouted a moment
later, and faintly the officer's reply came back to
them, "All ready,'' and was repeated into the tele-
phone. A moment later, ** Fired, sir," the sig-
naler shouted, and after a pause down came the
officer's remarks, to be repeated back word for
word.

Once Kentucky started up the stairs, but on
reaching the open he heard what had failed to
penetrate to the dug-out, the loud whistling
screams of shells, the sharp crack of their over-
head burst, the clash and thump of the flying frag-
ments on the stones and ground. Kentucky came
down the steps again. *^Bit warm up there, ain't
it!" said the signaler, continuing to hold the re-
ceiver to his ear, but placing his hand over the
mouthpiece in speaking to Kentucky.

** Mighty warm," said Kentucky. **I don't
fancy your officer's job up top there in the open."

The signaler yawned widely. "He's the second
to-day, ' ' he said. * ^ One expended to date — ^bit o '
shrap — Skilled straight out"

"You look kind of tuckered out," said Ken-
tucky, looking at the man. " I 'm nex ' door to doin '
the sleep-walkin' act," said the signaler. He
passed another order. "We bin shootin' like mad



196 aEAPES OF WEATH

for a week. Not too much sleep, going all the
time, an^ I 'aven't shut my eyes since yesterday
morning. ' '

Another shell hit the gronnd close outside, and
some fragments of stone and dirt pattered down
the stair.

** Can't say I like this,'* said Kentucky rest-
lessly. ^*If a shell plunked into that entrance or
bust it in where 'd we be f

*^ That's easy,'* said the telephonist. **We'd
be here, an' likely to stay here," and raised his
voice again to shout a message to the officer.

They sat another five minutes with the walls
shivering slightly or quaking violently as the
shells fell close or at a distance. The telephonist
sat apparently half -asleep, his eyes vacant, and his
shoulders rounded, his voice raised at times to
shout to the Forward Officer, sunk again to a
monotonous drawl repeating the officer's words
into the telephone. Once he glanced at Kentucky
and spoke briefly. **Why don't you get down to
it an' 'ave a kip I" he said. And when Kentucky
said he didn't feel particularly sleepy, and any-
how must move along in five or ten minutes, *^My
Gawd," said the telephonist; **not sleepy! An'
missin ' a chance for ten minutes ' kip. My Gawd ! ' '



FORWARD OBSERVING 197

When the shelling appeared to have slackened
Kentucky crawled np the stair, and after a word
with the oflBicer set out on his return journey.
Ahead where he judged the German position to he
he could see a swirling cloud of dirty smoke, torn
asunder every moment hy quick-following flashes
and springing fountains of earth and more belch-
ing smoke-clouds that towered upward in thick
spreading columns, and thinned and rolled out-
ward again to add still further to the dirty reek.
The earth shook to the clamorous uproar of the
guns, the air pulsed to the passage of countless
shells, their many-toned but always harsh and
strident shriekings. The greater weight of metal
was from the British side, hut as he hurried for-
ward, stumbling and slipping over the wet and
broken ground, Kentucky heard every now and
then the rush and crash of German shells bursting
near him. The rolling, pealing thunder of the
guns, the thuds and thumps and hangings of their
and their shells' reports, were so loud and so sus-
tained that they drowned the individual sounds of
approaching shells, and several times Kentucky
was only aware of their burst on seeing the black
spout of earth and smoke, on hearing the flying



198 GRAPES OF WRATH

fragments sing and whine dose past or thnd into
the wet ground near him.

He toiled on and came at last to an enormous
shell crater in which a full dozen of the Anzacs
squatted or stood. He halted a moment to speak
to them, to ask how things were going. He
found he had come through the main Anzac line
without knowing it, so broken and uptom was the
ground, and so well were the men concealed in the
deeper scattered holes. This dozen men were well
in advance and close up on the line which held the
Stonewalls and which they were supporting.

**Your mob is just about due to slam at 'em
again, mate,'' said a sergeant, looking at his wrist-
watch. ** You'd better hustle some if you want to
go to it along wi' yer own cobbers. There goes the
guns liftin' now. Time, gentlemen, please," and
he snapped down the cover of his watch and stood
to look out.

Kentucky climbed out and ran on. The
thunder of the guns had not ceased for an instant,
but the fire-flashes and spurting smoke clouds no
longer played about the same spot as before.
The guns had lifted their fire and were pouring
their torrent of shells further back behind tiie spot
marked for assault. Now, as Kentucky knew well.



FORWARD OBSERVING 199

was the designed moment for the attack, and he
looked every moment to see a line of figures rise
and move f orwisird. But he saw nothing except the
tumhled sea of broken ground, saw no sign of ris-
ing men, no sign of movement. For full two or
three minutes he hunted for the Stonewalls, for
the line he wanted to rejoin; and for those pre-
cious minutes no beat of rifle fire arose, no hail of
bullets swept the ground over which the attack
should pass. Then a machine gun somewhere in
the haze ahead began to chatter noisily, and,
quickly, one after another joined it and burst into
a streaming fire that rose rapidly to a steady and
unbroken roar. Shells began to sweep and crash
over the open too, and Kentucky ducked down into
a deep shell-hole for cover.

** What's gone wrong f he wondered. **They
were sure meant to start in when the guns lifted,
and they'd have been well across by this. Now
the Boche machine-gunners have had time to haul
the guns from their dug-outs and get busy. What's
wrong I Surely the battalion hasn't been clean
wiped out."

He peered cautiously over the edge of his hole,
but still he saw no sign of movement. He was
completely puzzled. Something was wrong, but



200 GRAPES OP WEATH

what? The Anzacs had told him the attack was
due, and those lifting guns had backed their
word. And yet there was no attack. He waited
for long minutes — ^minutes empty of attack, empty
of sign, empty of everything except the raving
machine guns and the storming bullets.



CHAPTER Xn



A YIIiLAGE AND A HELMET



Kentucky decided that it was as useless as it was
unnecessary for him to remain alone in his ex-
posed position, and forthwith proceeded to crawl
back to where he knew that at least he would find
some one. So, keeping as low as possible, he
started back, dodging from shell hole to shell hole.
In about the fourth one he came to he found a
group of several men, all dead, and plainly killed
by the one low-bursting shell. He could see that
they were Stonewalls, too, and began to wonder if
the reason for his failing to find the line was the
simple one that the line no longer existed. It was
a foolish supposition perhaps, but men are prone
to such after long day and night strain in a hot
action, are even more prone to it under such cir-
cumstances as brought Kentucky to this point of
crouching on the edge of a shell-hole with sudden
death whistling and crashing and thundering in his
ears, spread horribly under his eyes. He shivered,

201



202 GRAPES OF WRATH

skirted round the pit, and over into the next one,
just as another man stepped crouching over its
edge. Kentucky saw him, and with a sense of
enormous relief recognized him too as one of the
Stonewalls* oflScers. Here at last was some one
he knew, some one who knew him, some one who
would tell him perhaps what had happened, would
certainly tell him what to do, give him simple or-
ders to be simply obeyed. The officer was a boy
with a full quarter less years to his age than Ken-
tucky himself had, -& lad who in normal life would
probably still have been taking orders from a
schoolmaster, who certainly, instead of giving,
would have been taking orders or advice from a
man his equal in education, more than his equal in
age and worldliness, as Kentucky was. And yet
Kentucky saw him with something of the relief a
lost child would feel to meet his mother, and the
officer was as natural in giving his orders as if
Kentucky were the child. There is nothing un-
usual in all this. I only mention it because its very
usualness is probably odd to any one outside the
Service, and is likely to be little realized by them.

**I'm mighty glad to see you, sir,*' said Ken-
tucky. '*I thought I'd clean lost the battalion.'*

*'The battalion's strung out along here," said



A VILLAGE AND A HELMET 203

the officer. ^^Bnt I'm just passing along orders to
retire a little on the supporting line behind us. So
just push along back, and pass the word to do the
same to any of ours you run across/' He moved
on without further word, and Kentucky continued
his rearward journey. He was aiming for the
same lot of men he had passed through on his way
forward, but in the broken litter of ground missed
them, and instead ran on another group of half a
dozen sheltering in another deep shell crater. He
explained to them that in obedience to orders he
had retired to join their line.

**Well, you got to keep on retiring mate,'* said
one of them sulkily, *4f you're going to hitch in
with us. We just got the office too that we're to
take the back track."

**Hope it's all right," said another doubtfully.
^^ Seems so dash crazy to push up here and then
go back for nix."

**That Curly 's such a loose-tiled kid, he might
easy have mistook the order," said another.

** Anyway," said the first, **this bloke says 'im
an' 'is cobbers is hittin' out for the back paddods,
and "

'* What's that?" several interrupted simul-
taneously, and moved eagerly to the crater edge.



204 GRAPES OF WEATH

Clear through the rolling rifle and gan-fire came a
shrill **Coo-ee,'' and then another and another,
louder and nearer. Kentucky scrambled to the
edge with the others and looked out. Down to
their right they could see figures climbing out of
shell holes, starting up from the furrows, moving
at the run forward, and again they heard the shrill
'^coo-ee's'' and a confusion of shouts and calls.
Kentucky saw the half-dozen Anzacs scrambling
from their hole like scared cats going over a fence,
scuffling and jostling in their haste, heard them
shouting and laughing like children going to a
school treat. '^Come on, mates . . . nix on the
back track . . . play up, Anzacs. . . .^' For a
moment Kentucky was puzzled. He had plain or-
ders to retire to the support line. **Come on,^
cully," shouted the last man out, looking back at
him — ^but if the support line was advancing —
**• . . your bunch is mixin' it with us." He paused
to catch up and fling along the line the coo-ee that
came ringing down again, hitched his rifle for-
ward, and doubled off after the others. Kentucky
climbed out and followed him. At first the whistle
and shriek and snap-snap of bullets was continu-
ous, and it seemed impossible that he should con-
tinue without being hit, that each step he took



A VILLAGE AND A HELMET 205

must be the last. He wondered where the bullet
would hit him, whether it would hurt much,
whether he would have to wait long for the
stretcher-bearers. He slackened his pace at sight
of an Anzac officer rolling on the ground, cough-
ing and spitting up frothy blood. But the Anzac
saw his pause, and gathered strength to wave him
on, to clear his choking throat and shout thickly to
**Go on, boy; go on. I^m all right. Give 'em hell.'*
Kentucky ran on. The bullets were fewer now,
although the roar of firing from in front seemed
to grow rather than slacken. His breath came
heavily. The ground was rough and killingly
slippery. He was nearly done up; but it was
crazy to slow down there in the open ; must keep
on. He caught up one of the groups in front and
ran with them. They were shouting . . . where
did they get the wind to shout . . . and how much
further was it to the trench? Then he saw the men
he ran with begin to lift their rifles and fire or
shoot from the hip as they ran; he saw gray coats
crawling from a dug-Out a dozen yards to his left,
and with a shock realized that there was no trench
to cross, that the shells must have leveled it, that
he was actually into the enemy position. He ran
on, heavily and at a jog-trot, without a thought



206 GRAPES OF WEATH

of where he was rnnning to or why he ran. He
didn't think; merely ran because the others did.
He stopped, too, when they stopped, and began to
fire with them at a little crowd of Germans who
emerged suddenly from nowhere and came charg-
ing down at them. Several Germans fell ; the oth-
ers kept on, and Kentucky saw one of them swing
a stick bomb to throw. Kentucky shot him before
he threw — shot with his nerves suddenly grown
steel strong, his brain cool, his eye clear, his hand
as steady as rock. He shot again and dropped
the man who stooped to pick the bomb that fell
from the other's hand. Then the bomb exploded
amongst them. There were only four standing
when the smoke cleared, and the Anzacs were run-
ning at them with bayonets at the level. There
were only three Anzacs now, but the Germans
threw their hands up. Then when the Anzacs
slowed to a walk and came to within arm's length,
with their bayonet points up, one of the Germans
dropped his hand and flashed out a pistol.
Kentucky shot him before he could fire. He had
not run in with the others, and was a score of
paces away, and one of the Anzacs half-hid the
man with the pistol. But he shot knowing — ^not
believing, or thinking, or hoping, but hnovmg



A VILLAaE AND A HELMET 207

he would kill. It was his day, he was "on his
shoot/' he couldn't miss. The other Gennans
dropped their hands too, but whether to run or
fight — ^the bayonet finished them without a chance
to answer that. **Come on, Deadeye,'' shouted
one of the Anzaos; and when Kentucky joined
them, * * Some shootin % that. I owe you one for it
too/'

They went on again, but there was little more
fighting. Anyhow, Kentucky didn't fight. He
just shot ; and whatever he shot at he hit, as surely
and certainly as Death itself. There were a great
many dead Germans lying about, and the ground
was one churned heap of broken earth and shell-
holes. They came suddenly on many men in khaki, *
walking about and shouting to each other. Then
a Stonewall corporal met him and pointed to
where the Stonewalls were gathering, and told
him he had better go join them, and Kentucky
trudged off towards them feeling all of a sudden
most desperately tired and done up, and most hor-
ribly thirsty. The first thing he asked when he
reached the Stonewalls was whether any one had
a drop of water to spare; and then he heard a
shout, a very glad and cheery shout that brought



208 GRAPES OF WEATH

a queer, wann glow to his heart, ^^Kentuckl Hi,
Kentucky I''

*'Pug,''hesaid. * ' Oh, y on, Pug ! My, but I'm
glad to see you again, boy. ' '

They talked quickly, telling in snatches what
had happened to each since they separated, and
both openly and whole-heartedly glad to be to-
gether again.

**I got a helmet, Kentuck,*' said Pug joyfully,
and exhibited his German helmet with pride.
**Tole you I'd get a good 'un, didn't If An' I
downed the cove that 'ad it meself. We potted
at each other quite a bit — 'im or me for it — ^an'
I downed 'im^ an' got 'is 'elmet."

Now the capture of the village was a notable
feat of arms which was duly if somewhat briefly
chronicled in the General Headquarters dispatch
of the day with a line or two enumerating the
depth and front of the advance made, the prison-
ers and material taken. The war correspondents
have described the action more fully and in more
enthusiastic and picturesque language, and the
action with notes of the number of shells fired, the
battalions and batteries employed, and nice clear
explanatory maps of the ground and dispositions
of attackers and defenders will no doubt in due



N



A VILLAGE AND A HELMET 209

course occupy its proper place in the history of
the wax.

But none of these makes any mention of Pug
and his hehnet, although these apparently played
quite an important part in the operation. Pug
himself never understood his full share in it —
remembered the whole affair as nothing but a
horrible mix-up of noise, mud, bursting shells and
drifting smoke, and his acquirement of a very
fine helmet souvenir. Even when Pug told his
story Kentucky hardly understood all it meant,
only indeed came to realize it when he added to
it those other official and semi-official accounts, his
— ^Kentucky's — own experience, and the mysteri-
ous impulse that he had seen change the Anzacs '
retreat into an attack, into the charge which swept
up the Stonewalls and carried on into and over
the village. To get the story complete as Ken-
tucky came to piece it out and understand it we
must go back and cover Pu^'s doings from the
time Kentucky left him and the others in the shell-
hole to carry the message back to the artillery
F.0.0.

After the German counter-attack was caught in
the nick of time and driven back with heavy loss,
at good many of the counter-attackers instead of



210 GRAPES OF WEATH

risking the run back to the shelter of their trench
dropped into shell-holes and craters, and from
here the more determined of them continued to
shoot at any head showing in the British line.
The men of the latter were also scattered along
the broken ground in what at one time had been
the open between two trenches, but was now a bet-
ter position and in its innumerable deep shell cra-
ters offered better cover than the wrecked frag-
ment of a trench behind them. On both sides too
the gunners were ferociously strafing the opposi-
tion trenches, but since they dare not drop their
shells too near to where they knew their own front
lines to be located the tendency on both sides was
for the front line to wriggle and crawl forward
into the zone left uncovered by bursting high-
explosive shells and shrapnel. The German and
British infantry naturally did their best to dis-
courage and make as expensive as possible the
forward movement by the opposition, and indus-
triously sniped with rifle and machine gun any
men who exposed themselves for a moment But
when the counter-attack fell back Pug was for
some minutes too busily engaged in helping to
bandage up a badly wounded man to pay much
attention to what the Germans were doing. When



A VILLAGE AND A HELMET 211

the job was completed he raised his head and
looked out of the shell hole where he and the oth-
ers were sheltering and peered ronnd through the
drifting smoke haze. He caught dim sight of some
moving figures and raised his voice lustily.
* ' Stretche-e-er ! ^ ' he shouted, and after waiting
a minute, again * * Stre-tche-e-er I ' * Amidst all the
uproar of battle it is not probable that his
voice had a carrying power of more than scanty
yards, but when no stretcher-bearers immediately
materialized in answer to his call Pug appeared
a good deal annoyed. "Wot d^you s^pose them
blanky bearers is doin'f he grumbled, then
raised his voice and bawled again. He shouted
and grumbled alternately for a few minutes with
just the growing sense of annoyance that a man
feels when he whistles for a taxi and no taxi ap-
pears. Two or three times he ducked instinctively
at a hiss of a close bullet and once at the **Cr-r-
ump'^ of a falling shell and the whistle of its flying
splinters, and when he stood to shout he took care
to keep well down in his shell hole, raising no
more than his head above its level to allow his
voice to carry above ground. Apparently, al-
though he thought it unpleasantly risky to be
above ground there, and in no way out of place



212 GRAPES OF WEATH

for him not to expose himself, he took it quite for
granted that stretcher-bearers would accept all
the risk and come running to his bellowings. But
in case it be thought that he expected too much,
it ought to be remembered that it is the stretcher-
bearers themselves who are responsible for such
high expectations. Their salving of broken bod-
ies from out the maelstrom of battle, their desper-
ate rescues under fire, their readiness to risk the
most appalling hazards, their indifference to
wounds and death, their calm undertaking of im-
possibly difficult jobs, these very doings which by
their constant performance have been reduced to
no more than the normal, have come to be accepted
as the matter-of-fact ordinary routine business of
the stretcher-bearers. Pug, in fact, expected them
to come when he called, only because he had seen
them scores of times answer promptly to equally
or even more risky calls.

And the stretcher-bearers in this instance did
not fail him. A couple appeared looming hazily
through the smoke, and at another call labored
heavily over the broken ground to him. They
saw the wounded man before Pug had time to
make any explanation of his call, and without
stopping to waste words, slid over the edge of the



A VILLAGE AND A HELMET 213

crater, dropped the stretcher in position beside
the wonnded man, ran a quick, workmanlike glance
and touch over the first field-dressings on him,
had him on the stretcher and hoisted up out of
the hole all well inside a couple of minutes.

Pug returned to his own particular business,
and settling himself against the sloping wall of
the crater nearest the Germans took a cautious
survey of the ground before him. At first he saw
nothing but the rough, chumed-up surface and a
filmy curtain of smoke through which the resum-
ing British bombardment was again beginning to
splash fountains of shell-flung reek and dust. But
as he looked a figure appeared, came forward at
a scrambling run for a score of paces and dropped
out of sight into some hole. At first sight of him
Pug had instinctively thrust forward his rifle
muzzle and snapped off a quick shot, but the man
had run on apparently without taking any notice
of it. Pug was a fair enough shot to feel some
annoyance. * * D ' jer see that f he asked his neigh-
bor. ** Beggar never even ducked; an' I'll bet I
didn't go far off an inner on 'im." The neighbor
was taking a long and careful sight over the edge
of the pit. He fired, and without moving his rifle
gazed earnestly in the direction he had shot



214 * GRAPES OF WEATH

*'Wot's tliat, Pugf lie said at last, jerking out
the empty shell and reloading. **Who ducked?
Ah, would yer I * ' he exclaimed hastily, and pumped
out a rapid clipful of rounds. Pug joined in with
a couple of shots and the dodging figures they
had shot at vanished suddenly. *'Wot's their
game now, I wonder, '' said Pug. *'D*you think
they^re edgin^ in for another rushf^' He had
raised himself a little to look out, but the venom-
ous hisS'Zizz of a couple of bullets dose past his
head made him bob down hurriedly.

** You gotter look out,'' said the other man. ** A
lot o' blighters didn't bolt when we cut up their
attack. They just dropped into any hole that
come handy, an' they're lyin' there snipin' pot
shots at any one that shows."

Pug banged oflf a shot, jerked the breech open
and shut and banged off another. ** See that," he
said. **Same bloke I potted at afore. Not 'arf
a cheeky blighter either. Keeps jumpin' up an'
runnin' in to'ards us. But you wait till nex' time
— ^I'U give 'im run." He settled himself nicely
with elbow-rest, wide sprawled legs, and braced
feet, and waited with careful eye on his sights
and coiled finger about the trigger. Two minutes
he waited, and then his rifle banged again, and



A VILLAGE AND A HELMET 215

he exclaimed delightedly, **I gottim, chum. I got-
tim that time. See 'im flop?'* But his exclama-
tion changed to one of angry disgust as he saw the
man he supposed he had **gof rise from behind
his cover, beckon vigorously to some one behind
him, and move forward again another few steps.

Pug blazed another shot at him, and in response
the man, in the very act of dropping to cover,
stopped, straightened up, and after staring in
Pug's direction for a moment, turned, and lifting
the helmet from his head repeated the beckoning
motion he had made before.

*^Well of all the blinkin' cheek,'' said Pug
wrathf uUy ; * * take that, you cow, ' ' firing again.

**Wot's up?" said his companion. **Is some
bloke stringin' you I"

**Fair beats me," said the exasperated Pug.
**IVe 'ad half a dozen clean shots at 'im, an' 'e
just laughs at 'em. But I've marked the last
place 'e bogged down into, an' if 'e just pokes a
nose out once more, 'e'U get it in the neck for
keeps."

** Where is 'ef" said the interested chum;
**show us, an' I'll drop it acrost 'im too when 'e
pops out."

* * No, ' ' said Pug firmly, * * fair dinkum. 'E 's my



216 GRAPES OF WEATH

own private little lot, an' I'm goin' to see 'im
safely 'ome myself, S-steady now, 'ere 'e comes
again. Just 'avin' a look out, eh Fritz. Orright,
m' son. Keep on lookin' an' it'll meet yer optio —
plunk," and he fired. ** Missed again," he said
sadly as he saw a spurt of mud flick from the
edge of the German's cover. **But lumme, chum,
di'jer see the 'ehnet that bloke 'ad!" The Ger-
man it may be remembered had drawn attention
to his helmet by taking it off and waving it, but
Pug at that moment had been too exasperated loff
the impudence of the man's exposure to notice the
helmet. But this time a gleam of light caught
the heavy metal ** chin-strap " that hung from it,
and although the helmet itself was covered witK
the usual service cover of gray cloth. Pug could
see distinctly that it was one of the old pickel-
hauben type—one of the kind he so greatly cov-
eted as a * * souvenir. ' '

* * That settles it, ' ' said Pug firmly. * * I 'm goin '
to lay for that bloke till I gets 'im, an' then when
we advance I'll 'ave 'is 'elmet."

He lay for several minutes, watching the spot
where the German was concealed as a cat watches
a mouse-hole, and when his patience was rewarded
by a glimpse of gray uifif orm he took steady aim.



A VILLAGE AND A HELMET 217

carefully squeezed the trigger until he felt the
faint chec^ of its second pull-off, held his breath,
and gave the final squeeze, all in exact accordance
with the school of musketry instructions. The
patch of gray vanished, and Pug could not tell
whether he had scored a hit, but almost immedi-
ately he saw the spike and rounded top of the hel-
met lift cautiously into sight. Again Pug took
slow and deliberate aim but then hesitated,
**Tchick-tchicked** softly between his teeth, aimed
again and fired. The helmet vanished with a jerk.
*'Lookin' over the edge of 'is 'ole, *e was," said
Pug. **An^ at first I didn't like to shoot for fear
of spoilin' that 'elmet. But arter all,'' he con-
ceded cheerfully, **I dunno' that it wouldn't may-
be improve it as a fust-class sooven-eer to 'ave a
neat little three-oh-three 'ole drilled in it."

*'Did you drill it!" asked his companion di-
rectly.

*' Dunno," admitted Pug, "but I'm keepin' a
careful eye on 'im, an' I'll soon know if 'e moves
again. ' '

But in the process of keeping a careful eye Pug
was tempted for an instant into keeping a less
careful head under cover than the situation de-
manded. A bullet leaped whutt past within an



218 GRAPES OF WEATH

inch of his ear and lie dropped flat to earth with
an oath. **That was 'im,^' he said, **I saw the
flash of Is rifle. Looks like 'e^s got me piped oflf,
an^ it's goin' to be 'im or me for it."

Chick and another man in the same hole had
been bnsy shooting at any mark that presented,
but when their every appearance above gronnd
began to be greeted by an unpleasantly close bul-
let, they ceased to fire and squatted back in the
hole to watch Pug and the conducting of his duel.
A dozen times he and the German fired, each
drawing or returning instant shot for shot. Pug
moving from one spot to another in the shell cra-
ter, pushing his rifle out slowly, lifting his head
cautiously an inch at a time.

Over their heads the great shells shrieked and
rushed, round them crackled a spattering rifle fire,
the occasional hammering of a machine gun, the
rolling crash and whirr of bursting shells and fly-
ing splinters. Wide out to right and left of them,
far to their front and rear the roar of battle ran,
long-thundering and unbroken, in a deafening
chorus of bellowing guns, the vibrating rattle of
rifles and machine guns, the sharp detonations
and reports of shells and bombs and grenades.
But Pug and, in lesser degree, his companions.



A VILLAGE AND A HELMET 219

were quite heedless of all these things, of how the
battle moved or stayed stilL For them the strag-
gle had boiled down into the solitary duel between
Pug and his German ; the larger issues were for
the moment completely overshadowed, as in war
they so often are, by the mere individual and
personal ones. Pug insisted in finishing off his
duel single-handed, declining to have the others
there interfere in it. **It^s 'im or me for it," he
repeated, **fair dinkum. An* I^m goin* to get 'im
and 'is 'elmet on my blinMn* own."

He decided at last to move his position, to
crawl along and try to catch his opponent in flank,
to stalk his enemy as a hunter stalks a lidden
buck. Since he could not escape from the crater
they were in without exposing himself to that
watchful rifle, he scraped down with his entrench-
ing tool a couple of feet of the rim of the crater
where it formed a wall dividing off another crater.
When he had cleared the passage he came back
and fired another shot, just to keep his enemy
watching in the same spot for him, and hurriedly
crawled over into the next crater, squirmed and
wriggled away from it along cracks and holes and
folds of the torn and tumbled ground in a direc-
tion that he reckoned would allow him to readi the



220 GRAPES OF WRATH

German sheltering in his hole and behind a broken
hillock of earth. But before he reached such a
position as he desired he found himself looking
over into a deep crater occupied by an officer and
half a dozen men with a machine gun.

The officer looked up and caught sight of him.
** Hullo, Sneath/' he said. ** Where are you off
to! You're moving the wrong way, aren't you!
The order was to retire, and you're moving for-
ward."

Pug wriggled over into the crater and crouched
puffing and blowing for a moment. **I 'adn't
'eard nothin' about retiring, sir," he said doubt-
fully.

* * That 's the order, ' ' said the officer briskly. * * I
don't know what it means any more than you do,
but there it is. You'd better wait now and move
back with us."

Pug was annoyed — exceedingly annoyed. This
retirement looked like losing him his duel, and
what was more, losing him his coveted helmet.
Eetirement was a thing he had not for an insta?'*'
calculated upon. He had taken it quite^'fcK?
granted that if he could slay the wearer of the
helmet, the helmet was his, that he had only to
wait until the line advanced to go straight to it



A VILLAGE AND A HELMET 221

and pick it up. With a vague idea that he would
have managed the affair much better on his own,
without these interfering directions of his move-
ments, he began to wish he had never come across
this officer, and from that passed to wondering
whether he couldn't give the officer the slip and
finish off his program in his own way.

At that moment the British artillery fire re-
doubled in intensity and the rush of shells over-
head rose to a roaring gale.

** Sharp there,'' said the officer. **Get that gun
picked up. Now's our chance to get back while
the guns are socking it into 'em. ' '

He was right, of course, and their chances of
retirement were likely to be improved by the heav-
ier covering fire. Pug was also right in a half-
formed idea that had come to him — ^that the cover-
ing fire would also lessen the risk of a move for-
ward, or as he put it to himself — ^ ' With all them
shells about their ears they'll be too busy keepin'
their heads down to do much shootin' at me if I
' ance a quick rush; an' most likely I'd be on top
o' tnat bloke wi' the 'elmet afore 'e knew it."

The others were picking up the machine gun
and preparing to move, and Pug took a long and
careful look over the edge of the hole to locate his



222 GEAPES OF WBATH

helmet wearer. With a quick exclamation he
snatched the rifle to his shonlder, aimed, and
fired.

**That*ll do,'* said the officer sharply turning at
the sound of the shot. ^ ^ Cease firing and get along
hack. ' ' But Pug was gazing hard in the direction
of his shot. " I Ve got 'im, ' * he said triumphantly,
**I'll swear I got *im that time. Showin' a fair
mark 'e was, an' I saw 'im jerk 'an roll when I
fired."

** Never mind that," said the officer impatiently.
** There's their rifle fire beginning again. Time
we were out of this. Keep down as well as you
can all of you. Move yourselves now. ' '

The men began to scramble out of the hole,
and in an instant Pug's mind was made up. They
were retiring; so far as he knew the battalion
might be retiring out of the line, out of the battle,
and out of the reach of chances of German hel-
mets. And meantime there was his helmet lying
there waiting to be picked up, lying within a hun-
dred yards of himu '

He climbed up the rear waU of the crater, v
halted and spoke hurriedly to the officer. "I
won't be 'alf a mo', sir," he said. ** Something
there I want to pick up an' bring in," and without



A VILLAGE AND A HELMET 223

waiting for any reply tnmed and bolted across
the open towards his helmet. The officer was con-
sumed with a quick gust of anger at such disobedi-
ence. **Here,'' he shouted and scrambled out of
the pit. '*Hi, come back you^*; and as Pug gave
no sign of having heard him, he shouted again
and ran a few paces after him.

And so it was that about a dozen Anzacs rising
sullenly and grumblingly out of a big shell crater
in reluctant obedience to the order to retire, saw
a khaki figure rise into sight and go charging
straight forward towards the enemy, and a second
later the figure of an officer bound into sight and
follow him.

Two or three of the Anzacs voiced together the
thought that rose to all their minds.

^^Who said retire. . . . What blundering fool
twisted the order . . . retire, Gostrewth, they^re
advancing ... us retire, an' them goin' for-
ward . . ."

To them the position required little thinking
over. They could see some men advancing, and
distinctly see an officer too at that. And how
many more the smoke hid

In an instant they were swarming up and out of
their crater ; there was a wild yell, a shrill * * Coo-



224 GRAPES OF WRATH

ee/' a confused shouting, ** Come on, boys ... at
'em, Anzacs . . . Advance, Australia, *' and the
dozen went plunging off forward. Out to right
and left of them the yell ran like fire through dry
grass, the ooo-ees rose long and shrill; as if by
magic the dead ground sprouted gleaming bayo-
nets and scrambling khaki figures. Every man
who looked saw a ragged and swiftly growing line
surging forward, and every man, asking nothing
more, taking only this plain evidence of advance,
made haste — exactly as Kentucky's companions
made haste — ^to fling into it. Straight at the
flashing rifles and the drifting fog-bank of shell
smoke that marked the German position the shift-
ing wave swept and surged, the men yelling,
shouting and cheering; Bullets beating down upon
them, shells crumpling and smashing amongst
them cut them down by dozens, but neither
halted nor slowed down the charging line. It
poured on, flooded in over the wrecked trenches
and dug-outs, the confused litter of shell holes big
and little, piled earth heaps, occasional fragments
of brickwork and splintered beams that alone re-
mained of the village. The flank attacks that had
been launched a few minutes before and held up
staggering under the ferocious fire that met them.



A VILLAGE AND A HELMET 225



found the weight of their opposition suddenly
grow less, took fresh hreath and thrust fiercely in
again, gained a footing, felt the resistance weaken
and bend and break, and in a moment were
through and into the tumbled wreckage of a de-
fense, shooting and stabbing and bayoneting,
bombing the dug-outs, rounding up the prisoners,
pushing on until they came in touch with the swirl-
ing edges of the frontal attack's wave, and joining
them turned and overran the last struggling rem-
nants of the defense. The village was taken ; the
line pushed out beyond it, took firm grip of a
fresh patch of ground, spread swiftly and linked
up with the attack that raged on out to either side
and bit savagely into the crumbling German line.
These wider issues were of course quite beyond
the knowledge or understanding of Pug. He had
come uninjured to the spot where his German lay,
found he was an oflScer and quite dead, snatched
up the helmet that lay beside him, and turned to
hurry back. Only then was he aware of the line
charging and barging down upon him, and under-
standing nothing of why or how it had come there,
noticing only from a glimpse of some faces he
knew that men of his own battalion were in it, he
slipped his arm through the chinstrap of his cap-



226 GRAPES OF WBATH

tured helmet, turned again and ran forward with
the rest. With them he played his part in the final
overrunning of the village — ^the usual confused,
scuffling jumble of a part played by the average
infantry private in an attack, a nightmarish mix-
ture of noise and yelling, of banging rifles^ shat-
tering bomb reports, a great deal of smoke, the
whistle of passing bullets, the crackling snap and
smack of their striking ground and stone, swift
appearance and disappearance of running figures.
He had a momentary vision of men grouped about
a black dug-out mouth hurling grenades down it ;
joined a wild rush with several others on a group
of gray-coated Germans who stood firm even to a
bayonet finisL Scrambling and scuffling down
and up the steep sides of the smaller shell craters,
round the slippery crumbling edges of the larger,
he caught glimpsea-this towards the end-of
scattered groups or trickling lines of white-faced
prisoners with long gray coats flapping about
their ankles, and hands held high over their heads,
being shepherded out towards the British lines by
one or two guards. All these scattered impres-
sions were linked up by many panting, breathless
scrambles over a chaos of torn and broken ground
pocked and pitted with the shell craters set as



A VILLAGE AND A HELMET 227

close as the cells of a broken honeycomb, and
ended with a narrow escape, averted jnst in time
by one of his officers, from firing upon a group of
men — ^part of the flank attadfc as it proved — ^who
appeared mysteriously out of the smoke where
Germans had been firing and throwing stick-gre-
nades a moment before.

Through all the turmoil Pug clung tightly to
his helmet. He knew that there had been a stiff
fight and that they had won, was vaguely pleased
at the comforting fact, and much more distinctly
pleased and satisfied with the possession of his
souvenir. He took the first opportunity when the
line paused and proceeded to sort itself out beyond
the village, to strip the cloth off his prize and
examine it. It was an officer's pickelhaube, re-
splendent in all its glory of glistening black pat-
ent-leather, gleaming brass eagle spread-winged
across its front, fierce spike on top and heavy-
linked chain ** chin-strap*' of shining brass. Pug
was hugely pleased with his trophy, displayed it
pridef uUy and told briefly the tale of his duel with
the late owner. He told nothing of how the secur-
ing of his prize had assisted at the taking of the .
village, for the good reason that he himself did •



228 GRAPES OF WRATH

not know it, and np to then in fact did not even
know that they had taken a village.

He tied the helmet securely to his belt with a
twisted bit of wire, and at the urgent command
of a sweating and mud-bedaubed sergeant pre-
pared to dig. **Are we stoppin' 'ere then!" he
stayed to ask.

** Suppose so/' said the sergeant, ** seeing we Ve
taken our objective and got this village/'

Pug gaped at him, and then looked round won-
deringly at the tossed and tumbled shell-riddled
chaos of shattered earth that was spread about
them. **Got this village," he said. **Limune,
where 's the village then ! ' '

Another man there laughed at him. ** You came
over the top o' it, Pug," he said. ** Don't you re-
member the broken beam you near fell over, back
there a piece! That was a bit o' one o' the houses
in the village. An' d'you see that little bit o' gray
wall there! That's some more o' the village."

Pug looked hard at it. **An' that's the village,

is it, ' ' he said cheerfully. * * Lor ' now, I might 'ave

trod right on top o ' it by accident, or even tripped

over it, if it 'ad been a bit bigger village. You can

: keep it; I'd rather 'ave my 'elmet."



i »



CHAPTEE Xin



WITH THE TANKS



Soon after Kentucky rejoined them the Stonewalls
were moved forward a little clear of the village
they had helped to take, just as one or two heavy
shells whooped over from the German guns and
dropped crashing on the ground that had been
theirs. The men were spread out along shell holes
and told to dig in for better cover because a bit of
a redoubt on the left flank hadn't been taken and
bullets were falling in enfilade from it.

**I>ig, you cripples/' said the sergeant, "dig in.
Can't you see that if they counter-attack from the
front now you'll get shot in the back while you're
lining the front edge of those shell holes. Get to
it there, you Pug. "

** Shot in the back, linin' the front," said Pug as
the sergeant passed on. * * Is it a conundrum. Ken-
tuck!"

** Sounds sort of mixed," admitted Kentucky.
**But it's tainted some with the truth. That re*

229



230 GRAPES OF WRATH

doubt is half rear to ns. If another lot comes at
us in front and we get up on the front edge of this
shell hole, there's nothing to stop the redoubt bul-
lets hitting us in the back. Look at that/' he con-
cluded, nodding upward to where a bullet had
smacked noisily into the mud above their heads as
they squatted in the hole.

The two commenced wearily to cut out with
their trenching tools a couple of niches in the sides
of the crater which would give them protection
from the flank. and rear bullets. They made rea-
sonably secure cover and then stayed to watch
a hurricane bombardment that was developing on
the redoubt. '^Goo on the guns,'' said Pug joy-
fully. * * That 's the talk ; smack 'em about. ' '

The gunners ** smacked 'em about" with fifteen
savage minutes ' deluge of light and heavy shells,
blotting out the redoubt in a whirlwind of fire-
flashes, belching smoke clouds and dust haze.
Then suddenly the tempest ceased to play there,
lifted and shifted and fell roaring in a wall of fire
and steel beyond the low slope which the redoubt
crowned.

With past knowledge of what the lift and the
further barrage meant the two men in the shell-



WITH THE TANKS 231

pit turned and craned their necks and looked out
along the line.

^ ^ There they go, ^ ' said Pug suddenly, and * * At-
tacking round a half-circle,^^ said Kentucky. The
British line was curved in a horse-shoe shape
about the redoubt and the two being out near one
of the points could look back and watch clearly
the infantry attack launching from the center and
half-way round the sides of the horse-shoe. They
saw the khaki figures running heavily, scrambling
round and through the scattered shell holes, and
presently, as a crackle of rifle fire rose and rose
and swelled to a sullen roar with the quick, rhyth-
mic clatter of machine guns beating through it,
they saw also the figures stumbling and falling,
the line thinning and shredding out and wasting
away under the vsdthering fire.

The sergeant dodged along the pit-edge above
them. * * Covering fire, ' ' he shouted, * * at four hun-
dred — slam it in,^' and disappeared. The two
opened fire, aiming at the crest of the slope and
beyond the tangle of barbed wire which alone in-
dicated the position of the redoubt.

They only ceased to fire when they saw the
advanced fringe of the line, of a line by now woe-
fully thinned and weakened, come to the edge of



232 GRAPES OF WBATH

the barbed wire and try to force a way throngh it.

** They 're beat,*' gasped Pug. "They're done
in . . ." and cursed long and bitterly, fingering
nervously at his rifle the while. **Time we rung
in again," said Kentucky. "Aim steady and
pitch 'em well clear of the wire." The two opened
careful fire again while the broken remnants of
the attacking liue ran and hobbled and crawled
back or into the cover of shell holes. A second
wave flooded out in a new assault, but by now the
German artillery joining in helped it and the new
line was cut down, broken and beaten back before
it had covered half the distance to the entangle-
ments. Kentucky and Pug and others of the
Stonewalls near them could only curse helplessly
as they watched the tragedy and plied their rifles
in a slender hope of some of their bullets finding
those unseen loopholes and embrasures.

* * An ' wot 's the next item o ' the program, I won-
der! " said Pug half an hour after the last attack
had failed, half an hour filled with a little shoot-
ing, a good deal of listening to the pipe and whis-
tle of overhead bullets and the rolling thunder of
the guns, a watching of the shells falling and
spouting earth and smoke on the defiant redoubt.

" Reinforcements and another butt-in at it, I



WITH THE TANKS 233

expect,'' surmised Kentucky. ** Don't see any-
thing else for it. Looks like this pimple-on-the-
map of a redoubt was holdin' up any advance on
this front. Anyhow I'm not hankering to go
pushin' on with that redoubt bunch shootin'
holes in my back, which they'd surely do."

**Wot's all the buzz about be'ind usf " said Pug
suddenly, raising himself for a quick look over the
covering edge of earth behind him, and in the act
of dropping again stopped and stared with raised
eyebrows and gaping mouth.

*^What is it?" said Kentucky quickly, and also
rose, and also stayed risen and staring in amaze-
ment. Towards them, lumbering and roUing, dip-
ping heavily into the shell holes, heaving clumsily
out of them, moving with a motion something be-
tween that of a half-sunken ship and a hamstrung
toad, striped and banded and splashed from head
to foot, or, if you prefer it, from fo'c'sl-head to
cutwater, with splashes of lurid color, came His
Majesty's Land Ship **Here We Are."

^^OtoT'Strewthl'^ ejaculated Pug. *^Wha-what
is it?"

Kentucky only gasped.

** 'Ere," said Pug hurriedly, "let's gerrout o'



234 GRAPES OF WBATH

this. It's comin' over atop of ns," and lie com-
menced to scramble clear.

Bnt a light of understanding was dawning on
Kentucky's face and a wide grin growing on his
lips. **It's one of the Tanks," he said, and giggled
aloud as the Here We Are dipped her nose and
slid head first into a huge shell crater in ludicrous
likeness to a squat bull-pup sitting back on its
haunches and dragged into a hole: **I've heard
lots about 'em, but the seein' beats all the hearin'
by whole streets," and he and Pug laughed aloud
together as the Here We Are's face and gun-port
eyes and bent-elbow driving gear appeared above
the crater rim in still more ridiculous resemblance
to an amazed toad emerging from a rain-barrel.
The creature lumbered past them, taking in its
stride the narrow trench dug to link up the shell
holes, and the laughter on Kentucky's lips died to
thoughtfully serious lines as his eye caught the
glint of fat, vicious-looking gun muzzles peering
from their ports.

**Haw haw haw," guffawed Pug as the monster
lurched drunkenly, checked and steadied itself
with one foot poised over a deep hole, halted and
backed away, and edged nervously round the rim
of the hole. **See them machine guns pokin' out,



WITH THE TANKS 235

Kentucky,*' he continued delightedly. **They
won ^t *arf pepper them Huns when they gets near
enough. ' *

Fifty yards in the wake of the Here We Are
a line of men followed up until an officer halted
them along the front line where Pug and Kentucky
were posted.

**You blokes just takin* 'im out for an airin'f
Pug asked one of the newcomers. ** Oughtn't
you to *ave 'im on a leadin' string f

**Here we are, Here we are again,*' chanted the
other and giggled spasmodically. **An' ain't he
just hot stuff! But wait till you see 'im get to
work with his sprinklers. ' '

''Does 'e bite!" asked Pug, grinning joyously.
** Oughtn't you to 'ave 'is muzzle onf "

''Bite," retorted another. "He's a bloomin'
Hun-eater. Jes' gulps 'em whole, coal-scuttle 'ats
an' all."

"He's a taed," said another. "A loUopin, flat-
nosed, splay-fittit, ugly puddock, wi's hin' legs
stuck oot whaur .his front should be. ' '

"Look at 'im, oh look at 'im ... he's alive,
lad, nobbut alive." . . . "Does every bloomin'
thing but talk." . . . "Skatin' he is now, skatrn'



236 GRAPES OF WBATH

on 'is oflF hind leg, ' ' came a chorus of delighted
comment.

*^Is he goin' to waltz in and take that redoubt
on his ownsumf ^' asked Kentucky. **No/' some
one told him. *^We give him ten minutes' start
and then follow on and pick up the pieces, and the
prisoners. ' '

They lay there laughing and joking and
watching the uncouth antics of the monster wad-
dling across the shell-riddled ground, cheering
when it appeared to trip and recover itself,
cheering when it floundered sideways into a hole
and crawled out again, cheering most wildly of all
when it reached the barbed-wire entanglements,
waddled through, bursting them apart and trailing
them in long tangles behind it, or trampling
them calmly under its diurning caterpillar-wheel-
bands. It was little wonder they cheered and less
wonder they laughed. The Here We Are's mo-
tions were so weirdly alive and life-like, so play-
fully ponderous, so massively ridiculous, that it
belonged by nature to nothing outside a Drury
Lane Panto. At one moment it looked exactly
like a squat tug-boat in a heavy cross sea or an
ugly tide-rip, lurching, dipping, rolling rail and
rail, plunging wildly bows under, tossing its nose



WITH THE TANKS 237

up and squattering again stem-rail deep, pitching
and heaving and diving and staggering, but al-
ways pushing forward. Next minute it was a
monster out of Prehistoric Peeps, or a new pat-
ent fire-breathing dragon from the pages of a very
Grimm Fairy Tale, nosing its way blindly over
the Fairy Princess pitfalls; next it was a big
broad-buttocked sow nuzzling and rooting as it
went ; next it was a drunk man reeling and stag-
gering, rolling and falling, scrabbling and crawl-
ing; next it was — ^was anything on or in, or un-
derneath the earth, anything at all except a deadly,
grim, purposeful murdering product of modern
war.

The infantry pushed out after it when it
reached the barbed wire, and although they took
little heed to keep cover — ^being much more con-
cerned not to miss any of the grave and comic
antics of their giant joke than to shelter from
flying bullets — the line went on almost without cas-
ualties. ** Mighty few bullets about this time,''
remarked Kentucky, who with Pug had moved out
along with the others *Ho see the fun." ** That's
'cos they're too busy with the old Pepper-pots,
an' the Pepper-pots is too busy wi' them to leave
much time for shootin ' at us, ' ' said Pug gayly. It



238 GRAPES OF WEATH

was true too. The Pepper-pots — ^a second one had
lumbered into sight from the center of the horse-
shoe curve — ^were drawing a tearing hurricane of
machine-gun bullets that beat and rattled on their
armored sides like hail on a window-paue. They
waddled indifferently through the storm and Here
We Are, crawling carefully across a trench, halted
half-way over and sprinkled bullets up and down
its length to port and starboard for a minute,
hitched itself over, steered straight for a fire-
streaming machine-gun embrasure. It squirted
a jet of lead into the loophole, walked on, butted
at the emplacement once or twice, got a grip of
it under the upward sloped caterpillar band,
climbed jerkily till it stood reared up on end like
a frightened colt, ground its driving bands round
and round, and — ^f eU forward on its face with a
cloud of dust belching up and out from the col-
lapsed dug-out. Then it crawled out of the
wreckage, crunching over splintered beams and
broken concrete, wheeled and cruised casually
down the length of a crooked trench, halting every
now and then to spray bullets on any German who
showed or to hail a stream of them down the black
entrance to a dug-out, straying aside to nose over



X*



WITH THE TANKS 239

any suspicious cranny, swinging round again to
plod up the slope in search of more trenches.

The infantry followed up, cheering and laughing
like children at a fair, rounding up batches of
prisoners who crawled white-faced and with
scared eyes from dug-out doors and trench cor-
ners, shouting jests and comments at the lumber-
ing Pepper-pots.

A yell went up as the Here We Are, ed^ng
along a trench, lurched suddenly, staggered, side-
slipped, and half disappeared in a fog of dust.
The infantry raced up and found it with its
starboard driving gear grinding and churning full
power and speed of revolution above ground and
the whole port side and gear down somewhere in
the depths of the collapsed trench, grating and
squealing and flinging out clods of earth as big as
clothes-baskets. Then the engines eased, slowed,
and stopped, and after a little and in answer to
the encouraging yells of the men outside, a scuttle
jerked open and a grimy figure crawled out.

*' Blimey,'^ said Pug rapturously, ** 'ere's Jo-
nah 'isself. OP Pepper-pot's spewed 'im out."

But ** Jonah'' addressed himself pointedly and
at some length to the laughing spectators, and
they, urged on by a stream of objurgation and in-



240 GRAPES OF WEATH

vective, fell to work with trenching-tools, with
spades retrieved from tiie trench, with bare hands
and busy fingers, to break down the trench-side
under Here We Are's starboard driver, and pile
it down into the trench and under the uplifted
end of her port one. The second Pepper-pot
cruised up and brought to adjacent to the opera-
tions with a watchful eye on the horizon. It was
well she did, for suddenly a crowd of Germans
seeing or sensing that one of the monsters was
out of action, swarmed out of cover on the crest
and came storming down on the party. Here We
Are could do nothing; but the sister ship could,
and did, do quite a lot to those Germans. It
sidled round so as to bring both bow guns and aU
its broadside to bear and let loose a dose-quarter
tornado of bullets that cut the attackers to rags.
The men who had ceased digging to grab their
rifles had not time to fire a shot before the affair
was over and *^ Jonah'' was again urging them to
their spade-work. Then when he thought the
way ready. Here We Are at his orders steamed
ahead again, its lower port side scraping and
jarring along the trench wall, the drivers biting
and gripping at the soft ground. Jerkily, a foot
at a time, it scuffled its way along the trench



WITH THE TANKS 241

till it came to a sharp angle of it where a big
shell hole had broken down the wall. Bnt just as
the starboard driver was reaching out over the
shell hole and the easy job of plunging into it,
gaining a level keel and climbing out the other
side, the trench wall on the right gave way and the
Here We Are sank its starboard side level to and
then below the port one. She had fallen bodily into
a German dug-out, but after a pause to regain its
shaken breath — or the crew's — ^it began once
more to revolve its drivers slowly, and to chum
out behind them, first a cloud of dust and clots of
earth, then, as the starboard driver bit deeper into
the dug-out, a mangled debris of clothing and
trench-made furniture. On the ground above the
infantry stood shrieking with laughter, while the
frantic skipper raved unheard-of oaths and the
Here We Are pawed out and hoofed behind, or
caught on its driving band and hoisted in turn
into the naked light of day, a splintered bedstead,
a diewed up blanket or two, separately and
severally the legs, back, and seat of a red velvet
arm-chair, a torn gray coat and a forlorn and
muddy pair of pink pajama trousers tangled up
in one officer's field boot. And when the drivers
got their grip again and the Here We Are rolled



242 GRAPES OF WEATH

majestically forward and up the further sloping
side of the shell crater and halted to take the
skipper aboard again. Pug dragged a long branch
from the fascines in the trench debris, slid it up
one leg and down the other of the pink pajamas,
tied the boot by its laces to the tip and jammed
the root into a convenient crevice in the Tank^s
stem. And so beflagged she rolled her triumphant
way up over the captured redoubt and down the
other side, with the boot-tip bobbing and swaying
and jerking at the end of her pink tail. The sequel
to her story may be told here, although it only
came back to the men who decorated her after
filtering round the firing line, up and down the
communication lines, round half the hospitals and
most of the messes at or behind the Front.

And many as came to be the Tales of the Tanks,
this of the Pink-Tailed 'un, as Pug called her,
belonged unmistakably to her and, being so, was
joyfully recognised and acclaimed by her decora-
tors. She came in due time across the redoubt,
says the story, and bore down on the British line
at the other extreme of the horseshoe to where
a certain infantry CO., famed in past days for
a somewhat speedy and hectic career, glared in
amazement at the apparition lurching and bobbing



WITH THE TANKS 243

and bowing and crawling toad-like towards him.

*^I knew/' lie is reported to have afterwards
admitted, **I knew it couldn't be that I'd got 'em
again. But in the old days I always had one in-
fallible sign. Crimson rats and purple snakes I
might get over ; but if they had pink tails, I knew
I was in for it certain. And I tell you it gave me
quite a turn to see this bHghter waddling up and
wagging the old pink tail.''

But this end of the story only came to the Stone-
walls long enough after — ^just as it is said to have
come in time to the ears of the Here We Are's
skipper, and, mightily pleasing him and his crew,
set him chuckling deUghtedly and swearing he
meant to apply and in due and formal course
obtsun permission to change his land-ship's name,
and having regretfully parted with the pink tail,
immortalize it in the name of H.M.L.S. The D.T/s.



CHAPTEB XIV



THE BATTLE HTMlfr



Kbhttucky was suddenly awaxe of an overpower-
ing thirst. Fug being appealed to shook his anpty
water-bottle in reply. "Bnt 1*11 soon get some/*
he said cheerfully and proceeded to search
amongst the Oerman dead lying thick around
them. He came back with a full water-bottle and
a haversack containing sausage and dark brown
bread, and the two squatted in a shell hole and
made a good meal of the dead man's rations.
They felt a good deal the better of it^ and the ex-
pectation of an early move back out of the firing
line completed their satisfaction. The Stonewalls
would be relieved presently, they assured each
other ; had been told their bit was done when the
village was taken ; and that was done and the re-
doubt on top of it. They weren't sure how many
Stonewalls had followed on in the wake of the
tank, but they'd all be called back soon, and the
two agreed cordially that they wouldn't be a little

2i4



THE BATTLE HYMN 245

bit sorry to be out of this mud and murder game
for a spell.

An attempt was made after a little to sort out
the confusion of units that had resulted from the
advance, the Stonewalls being collected together
as far as possible, and odd bunches of Anzacs and
Highlanders and Fusiliers sent oflf in the direction
of their appointed rallying-plaoes. The work was
made more difficult by the recommencing of a slow
and methodical bombardment by the German guns
and the reluctance of the men to move from their
cover for no other purpose than to go and find
cover again in another part of the line. Scattered
amongst craters and broken trenches as the Stone-
walls were, even after they were more or less col-
lected together, it was hard to make any real esti-
mate of the casualties, and yet it was plain enough
to all that the battalion had lost heavily. As odd
men and groups dribbled in, Kentucky and Pug
questioned them eagerly for any news of Larry,
and at last heard a confused story from a
stretcher-bearer of a party of Stonewalls that
had been cut off, had held a portion of trench
gainst a German bombing attack, and had been
wiped out in process of the defense. Larry, their
informant was almost sure, was one of the casual-



246 GRAPES OF WRATH

ties, but he oonld not say whether killed, slightly
or seriously wounded.

**Wish I knowed 'e wasn't hurt too bad,'' said
Pug. ** Rotten luck if 'e is."

** Anyhow," said Kentucky, **we two have been
mighty lucky to come through it all so far, with
nothing more than your arm scratch between us. ' '

** Touch wood," said Pug wamingly. ** Don't
go boastin ' without touchin ' wood. ' '

Kentucky, who stood smoking with his hands
buried deep in his pockets, laughed at his earnest
tone. But his laugh died, and he and Pug glanced
up apprehensively as they heard the thin, distant
wail of an approaching shell change and deepen
to the roaring tempest of heart and soul-shaking
noise that means a dangerously close burst.

**Down, Pug," cried Kentucky sharply, and on
the same instant both flung themselves flat in the
bottom of their shelter. Both felt aad heard the
rending concussion, the shattering crash of the
burst, were sensible of the stunning shock, a sen-
sation of hurtling and falling, of . . . empty
blackness and nothingness.

Kentucky recovered himself first. He felt
numbed all over except in his left side and arm,
which pricked sharply and pulsed with pain at



THE BATTLE HYMN 247

a movement. He opened his eyes slowly with a
vague idea that he had been lying there for hours,
and it was with intense amazement that he saw
the black smoke of the burst stUl writhing and
thinning against the sky, heard voices calling and
asking was any one hurt, who was hit, did it catch
any one. He called an answer feebly at first, then
more strongly, and then as memory came back
with a rush, loud and sharp, **Pug! are you there,
Pugf Pug!'* One or two men came groping and
fumbling to him through the smoke, but he would
not let them lift or touch him until they had
searched for Pug. **He was just beside me,*' he
said eagerly. **He can't be hurt badly. Do hunt
for him, boys. It's poor old Pug. Oh, Pugl'^

**H'lo, Kentuck . . . you there?" came feebly
back. With a wrench Kentucky was on his knees,
staggered to his feet, and running to the voice.

* * Pug, ' ' he said, stooping over the huddled figure.

* * You're not hurt bad, are you, Pug, boy f ' ' With
clothing torn to rags, smeared and dripping with
blood, with one leg twisted horribly under him,
with a red cut gaping deep over one eye. Pug
looked up and grinned weakly. *'Orright," he
said;**I'm . . . or right. But I tole you, Kentuck
. . . I tole you to touch wood."



248 GRAPES OF WRATH

A couple of stretcher-bearers hurried along, and
when the damages were assessed it was found that
Pug was badly hurt, with one leg smashed, with
a score of minor wounds, of which one in the
side and one in the breast might be serious. Ken-
tucky had a broken hand, torn arm, lacerated
shoulder, and a heavily bruised set of ribs. So
Pug was lifted on to a stretcher, and Kentucky,
asserting stoutly that he could walk and that there
was no need to waste a precious stretcher on car-
rying him, had his wounds bandaged and started
out alongside the bearers who carried Pug. The
going was bad, and the unavoidable jolting and
jerking as the bearers stumbled over the rough
ground must have been sheer agony to the man
on the stretcher. But no groan or whimper came
from Pug's tight lips, that he opened only to en-
courage Kentucky to keep on, to tell him it
wouldn't be far now, to ask the bearers to go slow
to give Kentucky a chance to keep up. But it was
no time or place to go slow. The shells were stUl
screaming and bursting over and about the ground
they were crossing, gusts of rifle bullets or lonely
whimpering ones still whistled and hummed past.
A fold in the ground brought them cover pres-
ently from the bullets, but not from the shells, and



THE BATTLE HYMN 249

the bearers pushed doggedly on. Kentucky kept
up with difficulty, for he was feeling weak and
spent, and it was with a sigh of relief that he saw
the bearers halt and put the stretcher down.
^ ' How do you feel, Pug f he asked. * * Bit sore, ' '
said Pug with sturdy cheerfulness. **But it's
nothin* too bad. But I wish we was outer this.
We both got Blighty ones, Kentuck, an' we^l go
'ome together. Now we're on the way 'ome, I'd
hate to have another of them shells drop on us,
and put us out for good, mebbe. ' '

They pushed on again, for the light was failing,
and although the moon was already up, the half-
light made the broken ground more difficult than
ever to traverse. Pug had fallen silent, and one
of the bearers, noticing the gripped lips and pain-
twisted face, called to the other man and put the
stretcher down and fumbled out a pill. * * Swallow
that," he said, and put it between Pug's lips;
*^an' that's the last one I have." He daubed a
ghastly blue cross on Pug's cheek to show he had
been given an opiate, and then they went on
again.

They crept slowly across the ground where the
Germans had made one of their counter-attacks,
and the price they had paid in it was plain to



250 GRAPES OF WRATH

be seen in the piled heaps of dead that lay
sprawled on the open and huddled anyhow in the
holes and ditches. There were hundreds upon
hundreds in that one patch of ground alone, and
Kentucky wondered vaguely how many such
patches there were throughout the battlefield. The
stretcher-bearers were busy with the wounded,
who in places still remained with the dead, and
sound German prisoners under ridiculously slen-
der guards were carrying in stretchers with
badly wounded Germans or helping less severely
wounded ones to walk back to the British rear. A
Uttle further on they crossed what had been a
portion of trench held by the Germans and from
which they appeared to have been driven by shell
and mortar fire. Here there were no wounded,
and of the many dead the most had been literally
blown to pieces, or, flung bodily from their shel-
ters, lay broken and buried under tumbled heaps
of earth. Half a dozen Germans in long, flap^
ping coats and heavy steel ^^coal-scuttle*' helmets
worked silently, searching the gruesome debris for
any living wounded ; and beyond them stood a soli-
tary British soldier on guard over them, leaning
on his bayoneted rifle and watching them. Far to
the rear the flashes of the British guns lit the



THE BATTLE HYMN 251

darkening sky with vivid, flickering gleams that
came and went incessantly, like the play of sum-
mer lightning. It brought to Kentucky, trudg-
ing beside the stretcher, the swift memory of lines
from a great poem that he had learned as a child
and long since forgotten — the Battle Hymn of his
own country. In his mind he quoted them now
with sudden realization of the exactness of their
fitting to the scene before him — ^ * Mine eyes have
seen the glory of the coming of the Lord, He is
trampling out the vintage where the grapes of
wrath are stored, He hath loosed the fateful light-
ning of His terrible swift sword; His truth is
marching on.*' Here surely in these broken dead,
in the silent, dejected prisoners, in the very earth
she had seized and that now had been wrested
from her, was Germany's vintage, the tramplings
out of the grapes of a wrath long stored, the smit-
ten of the fiwift sword that flashed unloosed at
last in the gun-fire lightning at play across the
sky.

For the rest of the way that he walked back
to the First Aid Post the words of the verse kept
running over in his pain-numbed and weary mind
— ^^. . . where the grapes of wrath are stored;



252 GRAPES OF WRATH

trampling out the vintage where the grapes of
wrath . . .'' over and over again.

And when at last they came to the trench that
led to the imdergronnd dressing-station just as
the guns had waked again to a fresh spasm of fury
that set the sky ablaze with their flashes and the
air roaring to their deep, rolling thunders, Ken-
tucky's mind went back to where the great shells
would be falling, pictured to him the flaming fires,
the rending, shattering crashes, the tearing whirl-
winds of destruction, that would be devastating
the German lines. ** Grapes of wrath,'* he whis-
pered. ** God, yes — ^bitter grapes of wrath.'' And
in his tasixsy the guns caught up the word from
his mouth, and tossed it shouting in long-drawn,
shaking thunder: ** Wrath — ^wrath — wrathP^



CHAPTER XV



CASUALTIES



A DEEP and comparatively uninjured German dug-
out had been adapted for use as a dressing-sta-
tion. Its entrance lay in a little cup-shaped de-
pression with a steep, sloping bank behind it, and
the position of this bank and the entrance opening
out of it away from the British lines had probably
been the saving of it from shell fire. Kentucky
groped his way down the dark stairway, and the
bearers followed with Pug on the stretcher. The
stair was horribly steep, built in high and narrow
wooden steps which were coated with thick, slip-
pery mud, and it was with some diflSculty that the
stretcher was brought down. The stair opened
out direct into a large, well-built dug-out with
planked floor, walls and roof, and beyond it again
a narrow passage led to a further room, also well
built and plank lined, but much longer, and so
narrow that it barely gave room for men to be
laid across it. This chamber, too, was filled with

253



254 GRAPES OF WBATH

wounded, some of them stretched at full length,
others squatting close packed about the floor. The
first room was used by the doctors, beeause, being
more widely built, it gave room for a couple of
tables. There were three doctors there, two work-
ing at the tables, the third amongst the cases
huddled along the wall. Kentucky took his place,
leaning back against the wall and waiting his turn,
but Pug was carried almost at once to one of the
tables.

**Have you heard anything about how the whole
show is going f Kentucky asked one of the or-
derlies. "Not a word,*' said the man. ** Least-
ways, weVe heard so many words you can't be-
lieve any of 'em. Some o' the casualties tells us
one thing an' some another. But we've bumped
the Hun back a lump, that's sure. They all tell
us that."

Kentucky stayed there some minutes longer,
waiting his turn and watching the doctors at their
work. They were kept hard at it. The casualties
came stumbling down the stair in an unbroken
procession, and in turn passed along to the doc-
tors at the tables. Most of those that walked had
bandages about their heads, faces, hands, or
arms ; most of them were smeared and spattered



CASUALTIES 255

with blood, all of them were plastered thick with
mud. Many had sleeves slit open or shirts cut
away, and jackets slung loosely over their shoul-
ders, and as they moved glimpses of white flesh
and patches of bandage showed vividly fresh and
dean behind the torn covering of blood-stained
and muddy khaki. As fast as the doctor finished
one man another took his place, and without an
instant's pause the doctor washed from his mind
the effort of thought concentrated on the last case,
pounced on the newcomer, and, hurriedly strip-
ping off the bandages, plunged into the problem of
the fresh case, examining, diagnosing, and label-
ing it, cleansing the wound of the clotted blood and
mud that dung about it, redressing and bandag-
ing it. Then each man's breast was bared and a
hypodermic injection of ** anti-tetanus " serum
made, and the man passed along to join the others
waiting to go back to the ambulances. And be-
fore he was well clear of the table the doctor had
turned and was busied about the next case. The
work went on at top speed, as smooth as sweet-
running madiinery, as fast and eflSdently as the
sorting and packing of goods in a warehouse by
a well-drilled and expert staff. It was curiously
like the handling of merchandise, if you gave your



256 GRAPES OF WEATH

main attention to the figures passing down the
stairs, moving into line np to the tables, halting
there a few minutes, moving on again and away.
The men might have been parcels shifting one by
one up to the packers ' tables and away from them,
or those pieces of metal in a factory which tridde
up leisurely to a whirling lathe, are seized by it,
turned, poked, spun about with feverish haste for
a minute by the machine, pushed out dear to re-
sume their leisured progress while the machine
jumps on the next piece and works its ordered
will upon it That was the impression if one
watched the men filing up to and away from the
doctor's hands. It was quite different if attention
were concentrated on the doctor alone and the
case he handled. That brought instant realiza-
tion of the human side, the high skill of the swiftly
moving fingers, the perfection of knowledge that
directed them, the second-cutting haste with which
a bandage was stripped off, the tenderness that
over-rode the haste as the raw wound and quiver-
ing flesh were bared, the sure, imhesitating touch
that handled the wound with a maximum of speed
finely adjusted to a minimum of hurt, the knowl-
edge that saw in one swift glance what was to be
done, the technical skill, instant, exact, and un-



"s;



CASUALTIES 257

deviating, that did it. Here, too, was another hu-
man side in the men who moved forward one by
one into the strong lamp-light to be handled and
dealt with, to hear maybe and pretend not to heed
the verdict that meant a remaining life to be spent
in crippled incompetence, in bed-ridden helpless-
ness ; or a sentence that left nothing of hope, that
reduced to bare hours in the semi-dark of under-
ground, of cold and damp, of lonely thoughts, the
life of a man who a few hours before had been
crammed with health and strength and vitality,
overflowing with animal fitness and energy. With
all these men it appeared to be a i>oint of honor



to show nothing of flinching from pain or from
fear of the future. All at least bore the pain
grimly and stoically, most bore it cheerfully,
looked a detached sort of interest at their un-
covered wounds, si>oke with the doctor lightly or
even jestingly. If it was a slight wound there
was usually a great anxiety to know if it would
be ' * a Blighty one ' * ; if it were serious, the anx-
iety was still there, but studiously hidden under
an assumed carelessness, and the questioning
would be as to whether *4t would have to come
off'* or ^4s there a chance for me?'*
When Kentucky's turn came he moved forward



258 GRAPES OF WEATH

and sat himself on a low box beside the table, and
before he was well seated the orderly was slip-
ping off the jacket thrown over his shoulders and
buttoned across his chest. The doctor was in
his shirt-sleeves, and a dew of perspiration beaded
his forehead and shone damp on his face and
throat. ** Shell, sir,*' said Kentucky in answer to
the quick question as the doctor began rapidly to
unwind the bandages on his shoulder. * * Dropped
in a shell hole next the one I was lying in with
another man. That's him,'' and he nodded to
where Pug lay on the other doctor's table. **He's
hurt much worse than me. He's a particular
chum of mine, sir, and — ^would you mind, sir f — ^if
you could ask the other doctor he might tell me
what Pug's chances are."

**We'll see," said the doctor. **But I'm afraid
you've got a nasty hand here yourself," as he
carefully unwound the last of the bandage from
Kentucky's fingers and gently pulled away the
blood-clotted pad from them. ' * Yes, sir, ' ' agreed
Kentucky. **But, you see, Pug got it in the leg,
and the bearers say that's smashed to flinders,
and he's plugged full of other holes as well. I'm
rather anxious about him, sir; and if you could

ctSK* • • •



CASUALTIES 259

* * Presently, * ^ said the doctor, and went on with
his work. **What was your job before the war!
Will it cripple you seriously to lose that hand; be-
cause I'm afraid they'll have to amputate when
you go down.*'

Kentucky was anxiously watching the men at
the other table and trying to catch a glimpse of
what they were doing. **It doesn't matter so
much about that, sir," he said: **and I'm a lot
more worried about Pug. He'll lose a leg if
he loses anything, and mebbe he mightn't pull
through. Couldn't you just have a look at him
yourself, sirf"

As it happened, his doctor was called over a

* minute later to a hurried consultation at the other

table. The two doctors conferred hastily, and

then Kentucky's doctor came bad: to finish his

bandaging.

**Bad," he said at once in answer to Kentucky's
look. **Very bad. Doubtful if it is worth giving
him a place in the ambulance. But he has a faint
chance. We'll send him down later — ^when there 's
room — ^if he lasts. . . . There you are . . . now
the anti-tetania ..." busying himself with the
needle *^ . . and off you go to Blighty."



260 GRAPES OF WBATH

"Thank you, sir,'' said Kentucky. **And can
I stay beside Pug till it's time to move?"

**Yes," said the doctor. **But I'm afraid we'll
have to let you walk if you can manage it. There ^s
desi)erately little room in the ambulances."

^^I can walk aU rights sir,",said Kentucky; and
presently, with a label tied to the breast of his
jacket, moved aside to wait for Pug's removal
from the table. They brought him over presently
and carried him into the other room and laid him
down there dose to the foot of another stair lead-
ing to above-ground. Kentucky squatted beside
him and leaned over the stretcher. **Are yon
awake. Pug?" he said softly, and immediately
Pug's eyes opened. ** Hullo, Kentuck," he said
cheerfully. **Yes, I'm awake orright. They
wanted to gimme another dose o' that sleep stuff
in there, but I tole 'em I wasn't feelin' these holes
hurt a bit. I wanted to 'ave a talk to you, y'see,
ol' man, an' didn't know if another pill 'ud let
me."

**Sure they don't hurt muchf " said Kentucky.

**No," said Pug; **but it looks like a wash-out
for me, Kentuck."

** Never believe it, boy," said Kentucky, forc-
ing a gayety that was the last thing he actually



CASUALTIES 261

felt. *'We^re going down and over to Blighty to-
getiier. ' *

Pug grinned up at Mm. * * No kid stakes, Ken-
tuck," he said; ^*or mebbe you don't know. But
I 'eard wot them M.O.s was sayin', though they
didn't know I did.* They said it wasn't worth
sendin' me out to the ambulance. You knows
wot that means as well as me, Kentuck.''

Kentucky was silent. He knew only too well
what it meant. Where every stretcher and every
place in the ambulances is the precious means of
conveyance back to the doctors, and hospitals, and
the hope of their saving of the many men who
have a chance of that saving, no stretcher and no
place dare be wasted to carry back a dying man,
merely that he may die in another place. The
ones that may be saved take precedence, and those
that are considered hopeless must wait imtil a
slackening of the rush allows them to be sent. In
one way it may seem cruel, but in tiie other and
larger way it is the more humane and merciful.

** There's always, a chance. Pug," said Ken-
tucky, striving to capture hope luijQself . * ' Course
there is," said Pug. ''An' you can bet I'm goin*
to fight it out an' cheat them doctors if it can be
done, Kentuck. You'll go down ahead o' me, but



262 GRAPES OF WBATH

m

there ain't so many casualties comin* in now, an*
the battalion bein' on the way out will leave less
to be casualtied an* more room on the ambulance.
Yon keep a lookout for me, Kentuck. I might be
down at the boat as soon as you yet/*

' ^ That *s the talk, boy, * * said Kentucky. A man
hobbling on a stick oame in from tiie doctors*
room, and, seeing Kentucky, picked his way over
the outstretched forms to him. ^ ^ Hello, Kentuck, * *
he said. *^You got your packet passed out to
you, then. An* you, too, Pug?** as he caught
sight of Pug*s face half -hidden in bandages.

**Cheer-oh, Jimmy,** said Pug. *^ Yes, gave me
my little sooven-eer all right. An* the worst of it
is I*m afraid they've made a mess o* my fatal
beauty.**

** Never min*, Pug,** said Jimmy, ehuckling and
seating himself beside the stretcher. ^'I see
they've lef* your *andsome boko in action an*
fxdly efficient.**

'*Wot*s yours?** said Pug with interest. *'0h,
nothin* much,** said the other. *^Bit of shrap
through the foot. Just good enough for Blighty,
an* nothin* else to fuss about. How far did you
get?**

Pug tried to tell his story, but in spite of him-



CASUALTIES 263

self his voice weakened and slurred, and Ken-
tucky, catching Jimmy's eye, placed his finger on
his lips and nodded significantly towards Pug.
Jimmy took the hint promptly. ** Hullo, some
more o' tiie old crush over there/' he said. **I
must go'n 'ave a chin-wag with 'em,'' and he
moved off.

**D'you think you could find me a drink, Ken-
tuck!" said Pug; and Kentucky went and got
some from an orderly and brought it and held it
to the hot lips. After that he made Pug lie quiet,
telling him he was sure it was bad for him to be
talking; and because the drug still had a certain
amount of hold perhai>s, Pug half -drowsed and
woke and drowsed again. And each time he woke
Kentucky spoke quietly and cheerfully to him^
and lied calmly, saying it wasn't time for him to
go yet — although many others had gone and Ken-
tucky had deliberately missed his turn to go for
the sake of remaining beside the broken lad. Most
of the walking cases went on at once or in com-
pany with stretcher parties, but Kentucky let them
go and waited on, hour after hour. His own arm
and hand were throbbing painfully, and he was
feeling cold and sick and deadly tired. He was
not sleepy, and this apparently was unusual, for



264 GRAPES OF WRATH

most of the men there, if their pain was not too
great, lay or sat and slept the moment they had
the chance. Although many went, the room was
always fnll, because others came as fast. The
place was lit by a couple of hanging lamps, and
blue wreaths of cigarette smoke curled and floated
up past their chimneys and drifted up the stair-
way. Kentucky sat almost opposite the stair, and
the lamplight shone on the steps and on the figures
that disappeared up it one by one, their legs and
feet tramping up after their heads and bodies had
passed out of vision. The ground above had evi-
dently been churned into thin mud, and the water
from this ran down the* stair, and a solid mass
of the thicker mud followed gradually and over-
flowed step by step under the trampling feet. For
an hour Kentucky watched it coming lower and
lower, and thought disgustedly of the moment
when it would reach the floor and be tramped and
spread out over it, thick and slimy and filthy.
His back began to ache, and the tiredness to grip
and numb him, and his thoughts turned with in-
tolerable longing to the moment when he would
get off his mud-encrusted clothes and lie in a clean
hospital bed. Every now and then some order-
lies and bearers clumped down the stair into the



CASUALTIES 265

dug-out, and after a little stir of preparation a
batch of the wounded would walk or be helped or
carried up out into the open to start their journey
back to the ambulances. But the cleared space
they left quickly filled again with the steady inflow
of men who came from the doctors' hands in the
other room, and these in their turn settled them-,
selves to wait their turn squatting along the walls
or lying patiently on their stretchers. They were
all plastered and daubed with wet mud and clay,
worn and drooping with pain and fatigue; but
all who had a spark of consciousness or energy
left were most amazingly cheerful and contented.
They smoked cigarettes and exchanged experi-
ences and opinions, and all were most anxious to
find out something of how 'Hhe show'' had gone.
It was extraordinary how little they each ap-
peared to know of the fight they had taken such
an active part in, how ignorant they were of how
well or ill the action had gone as a whole. Some
talked very positively, but were promptly ques-
tioned or contradicted by others just as positive ;
others confessed blank ignorance of everything ex-
cept that they themselves had stayed in some ditch
for a certain number of hours, or that the bat-
talion had been *^held up" by machine-gun fire;



266 GRAPES OF WRATH

or that the sheUing had been ^^heU.'^ *'But if I'd
'a' had to ha' choosed/' said one, ^*I'd ha' sooner
been under their shell-fire than ours. The Bosche
trenches in front o ' us was just blowed out by the
roots."

** Never seed no Bosohe trenches myself," said
another. **I dodged along outer one shell-hole
inter another for a bit an' couldn't see a thing
for smoke. An' then I copped it and crawled
back in an ' out more shell-holes. Only dash thing
I've seed o' this battle has been shell-holes an'
smoke. ' '

'^Anyways," put in a man with a bandaged
jaw, mumblingly, *4f we didn't see much we heard
plenty. I didn't think a man's bloomin' ears
would 'ave 'eld so much row at onct."

*^We got heaps an' heaps o' prisoners," said a
man from his stretcher. *^I saw that much. We
muster took a good bit o' ground to get what I
saw myself o ' them. ' '

'^Hadn't took much where I was," remarked
another. **I didn't stir out of the trench we oc-
cupied till a crump blew me out in a heap."

^^Did any o' you see them Tanks? Lumme,
wasn't they a fair treat? ..."

Talk of the Tanks spread over all the dug-out.



CASUALTIES 267

It was plain that they were the feature of the bat-
tle. Every man who had seen them had wonder
tales to tell; every man who had not seen was
thirsting for information from the othei*s. The
Tanks were one huge joke. Their actual services
were overshadowed by their humor. Thjey drew
endless comparisons and similes; the dug-out
rippled with laughter and chuddings over their ap-
pearance, their uncouth antics and — ^primest jest
of all — ^the numbers their guns had cut down, the
attempts of the Germans to bolt from them, the
speed and certainty with which a gust of their
machine-gun fire had caught a hustling mob of
fugitives, hailed through them, tumbled them in
kicking, slaughtered heaps.

In the midst of the talk a sudden heavy crash
sounded outside and set the dug-out quivering.
A couple more followed, and a few men came down
the stairs and stood crowded together on its lower
steps and about its foot

**Pitchin' 'em pretty dose,** one of these in-
formed the dug-out. ** Too dose for comfort. An'
there's about a dozen diaps lyin' on top there
waitin' for stretchers."

Immediately there followed another tremendous
crash that set the dug-out rocking like a baat



268 GRAPES OF WRATH

struck by a heavy wave. Prom above came a con-
fused shoutingy and the men on the stair surged
back and down a step, while earth fragments rat-
tled and pattered down after them.

In the dug-out some of the men cursed and
others laughed and thanked their stars — ^and the
Bosche diggers of the dug-out — ^that they were so
deep under cover. The next shells fell further
away, but since the Germans of course knew the
exact location of the dug-out, there was every
prospect of more dose shooting.

Efforts were concentrated on clearing the
wounded who lay at the top of the stair in the
open and as many of the occupants of the dug-out
as possible.

But Kentucky managed to resist or evade being
turned out and held his place in the shadows at
Pug's heady sat there still and quiet and watched
the others come one by one and pass out in
batches. And each time Pug stirred and spoke,
**You there, Kentuckf Ain't it time you was
gone?" told him, "Not yet, boy. Presently.'* And
he noticed with a pang that each time Pug spoke
his voice was fainter and weaker. He spoke to an
orderly at last, and the doctor came and made
a quick examination* With his finger still ob



CASUALTIES 269

Pug's wrist he looked up at Kentucky and slightly
shook his head and spoke in a low tone. ^ ^ Noth-
ing to be done^'' he said, and rose and passed to
where he coxdd do something.

' * Kentuck, ' ' said Pug very weakly ; * * collar hold
o' that Germ 'elmet o' mine. I got no one at
'ome to send it to . . . an' I'd like you to 'av it,
chummy . . . f or a sooven-eer . . . o'anol'pal."
Kentucky with an effort steadied his voice and
stooped and whispered for a minute. He could
just catch a faint answer, ^^I'morright, chum. I
ain't afeard none ..." and then after a long
pause, ^ ^ Don 't you worry 'bout me. / 'm orright. ' '
And that was his last/word.

Kentucky passed up the stair and out into the
cold air heavily and almost reluctantly. Even
although he could do nothing more, he hated leav-
ing Pug; but room was precious in the dug-out,
and the orderlies urged him to be off. He joined
a party of several other ** walking cases" and a
couple of men on stretchers, and with them struck
off across the battlefield towards the point on the
road which was the nearest the ambulance could
approach to the dressing station. The Germans
had begun to shell again, and several *^ crumps"
fell near the dug-out. Kentucky, with his mind



270 GRAPES OF WEATH

busied in thoughts of Pug, hardly heeded, but the
others of the party expressed an anxiety and
showed a nervousness greater than Kentudiy had
ever noticed before. The explanation was simple,
and was voiced by one cheerful csasualty on a
stretcher. **IVe got my dose, an' I'm bound for
Blighty," he said, ^'an' gels chuckin' flowers in
the ambulance in Lunnon. If you bloomin' bear-
ers goes cartin' me into the way o' stoppin' an-
other one — strewth, I'll come back an' 'aunt yer.
I've 'ad the physic, an' I don't want to go missin'
none o' the jam."

They moved slowly across the torn fields aad
down along the slope towards the road. In the
valley they walked in thin, filmy mists, and further
on, where low hUls rose out of the hollow, camp
fires twinkled and winked in scores on the hill-
sides. And still further, when they rounded a
low shoulder and the valley and the hills beyond
opened wide to them, the fires increased from
scores to hundreds. *'Bloomin' Crystal Palis on
firework night," said one man, and '*Why don't
the special conetables make 'em draw the blinds
an' shade the lights?" said another.

Kentucky saw these things, heard the men's
talk, without noting them ; and yet the impression



CASUALTIES 271

must have been deeper and sharper than he knew,
for there oame a day when he recalled every spot
of light aad blot of shadow, every curve of hill
and mist-shrouded valley, every word and smoth-
ered groan and rough jest and laugh, as clearly
as if they had been in his eyes and ears a minute
before. In thej same detajbhed way he saw the
bodies of men lying stiff in grotesque, twisted
postures or in the peaceful attitudes of quiet
sleep, the crawling mists and the lanterns of or-
derlies and stretcher-bearers searching the field
for any still living, heard the weak quavering calls
that came out of the mists at intervals like the
lonely cries of sheep lost on a mountain crag, the
thin, long-drawn *^He-e-e-lp'' of men too sore
stricken to move, calling to guide the rescuers
they knew would be seeking them. And in the
same fashion, after they came to the ambulances
waiting on the broken roadside and he had been
helped to the seat beside the driver of one, he
noticed how slowly and carefully the man drove
and twisted in and out dodging the shell holes;
noticed, witiiout then realizing their significance,
the legions of men who tramped silently and
stolidly, or whistling and singing and blowing
on mouth-organs, on their way up to the firing



272 GRAPES OP WRATH

line, the faces emerging white and the rifles glint-
ing out of the darkness into the brightness of the
headlights. The car made a wide detour by a
road which ran over a portion of gronnd cap-
tured from the Germans a few weeks before. A
cold gray light was creeping in before they cleared
this ground that already was a swarming hive of
British troops, and further than the faint light
showed, Kentucky coxdd see and sense parked
ranks of wagons, lines of horses, packed camps
of men and rows of bivouacs. From there and
for miles back the car crept slowly past gun po-
sitions and batteries beyond count or reckoning,
jolted across the metals of a railway line that was
already running into the captured ground, past
**dump'' after **dump'' of ammunition, big shells
and little piled in stacks and house-high pyramids,
patches of ground floored acre-wide with trench
mortar bombs like big footballs, familiar gray
boxes of grenades and rifle cartridges, shells
again, and yet more shellb. ** Don't look like we
expected to ever lose any o' this ground again,''
said the driver cheerfully, and Kentucky realized
— ^ihen and afterwards — ^just how little it looked
like it, and quoted softly to himself, from the Bat-
tle Hymn again — * * He has sounded forth the tram-



CASUALTIES 273

pet that shall never call retreat/' As the light
grew and the car passed back to where the road
was less damaged or better repaired their speed
increased and they ran spattering in the roadside
to meet more long columns of men with the brown
rifle barrels sloped and swaying evenly above the
yellow ranks — ' ' . . . a fiery gospel writ in rows of
burnished steel/' murmured Kentucky. **Wot
sayf questioned the driver. ** Nothing/' said
Kentucky. ** That's the dearin' station ahead
there," said the driver. **Tou'll soon be tucked
up safe in a bed now, or pushin' on to the ambu-
lance train and a straight run 'ome to Blighty."
So Kentucky came out of the battle, and step-
ping down from the ambulance, with an alert or-
derly attentive at his elbow to help him, took the
first step into the swift stages of the journey
home, and the long vista of kindness, gentleness,
and thoughtful care for which the hospital service
is only another name. From here he had nothing
to do but sleep, eat, and get well. He was done
with battle, and quit of the firing line. But as
he came away the war had one more word for his
ear, and as he was carried on board the hospital
train, the distant guns growled and muttered



274 GRAPES OF WRATH

fheir la£t same message to him — ^^^ grapes of
wrath, of wrath, of wrath/'

And after he had lost the last dull rumble of
the guns he still bore the memory of their message
with him, carried it down to the edge of France,
and across the Narrow Seas, and into the sheltered
calm of England.

He had been strangely impressed by the fitting
of his half-forgotten verses to all he had come
through, and their chance but dear coincidence
worked oddly on him, and came in the end to be
a vital influence in picking the path of his im-
mediate future and leading it utterly away from
other plans.



CHAPTER XVI



PLAY OUT THE GAME



Kentucky thouglit often over the Battle Hymn
in the long waMng hours of pain and the listless
time of convalescence, and since his thoughts came
in time to crystallize into words and words are
easier to set down than thoughts, here is a talk
that he had, many weeks after, when he was al-
most well again — ot rather as well as he would
ever be.

The talk was with Larry, with the broken wreck
of a Larry who would never, as the doctors told
him, walk or stand upright again. Kentucky had
finished his convalescing at Larry ^s home, and the
talk came one night when they were alone together
in the big dining-room, Larry, thin-faced and daw-
handed, on a couch before the fire, Kentucky in
a deep armchair. They had chatted idly and in
broken snatches of old days, and of those last
desperate days in *Hhe Push,** and on a chance
mention of Pug both had fallen silent for a space.

275



276 GRAPES OF WEATH

**Poor Pug/' said Larry at last. **Did it ever
strike you, Kentucky what a queer quartette of
chums we were, Billy Simson and Pug and you
and mef

* * Yes, mighty queer, come to think of it, ' ' agreed
Kentucky. **And the game handed it out pretty
rough for the lot of us — ^Billy and Pug killed,
you like this, and me ... " and he had lifted the
stump of a hand bound about with black silk band-
ages and showing nothing but a thumb and the
stump of a finger. **And I figure that out of the
lot yours is maybe the worst. ' '

**I don't know,'* said Larry slowly. **I'm well
enough off, after all, with a good home and my
people asking nothing better than to have the
looking after of me. I always think Billy had the
hardest luck to be hit again just as he was coming
out of it all with a safe and cushy one. ' '

** Anyway,*' said Kentucky, *4t's a sure thing
I came out best. I 'm crippled, of course, but I 'm
not right out of action, and can still play a little
hand in the game. ' '

** That's right,'' said Larry heartily. **You're
fit enough to tackle the job in his office in my place
that the Pater 's so keen to have you take — ^and as
I am, selfishly, because the offer carries the con-



PLAY OUT THE GAME 277

dition that you live with us. I hope youVe de-
cided to sign on with the firmf

**I'm going to tell your father to-night, '* said
Kentucky very slowly. **But I'm glad to have
the chance to tell you first. I asked him to give
me a day to think it over because I wanted to
know first if I'd a good-enough reason for re-
fusing "

**Bef using,''. Larry said, and almost cried the
word.

**When I went out this morning," said Ken-
tucky quietly, **I went to the Bed Cross people
and had a talk with Kendrick. I showed him I
was fit endugh for the job and he asked me if I'd
take an ambulance car to drive up front."

Larry stared at him. **Up front again," he
gasped. * * Haven 't you had enough of the front f ' '

*'More than enough," said Kentucky gravely.
**I'm not going because I like it, any more than I
did in the first place. It's just because I ^bink I
ought to play out the game."

**God," said Larry. **As if you hadn't done
enough. You've got your discharge as unfit. Who
would ever blame you for not going back, or dream
you ought to go!"

**Only one man," said Kentucky with the glim-



278 aBAPES OF WEATH

mer of a smile, ^^but one that oounts a smart lot
with me ; and he 's — ^myself. ' '

**But it^s nonsense, *' said Larry desperately,
**Why, it's not even as if you were one of us.
After all, you're American, and this country has
no claim, never had a daim, on you. You Ve done
more than your share already. There isn't an
earthly reason why you should go again."

**Not even one of us," repeated Kentucky
softly. **Well, now, haven't I earned the right
to call myself one of you ! No, never mind ; course
I know you didn't mean it that way. But you're
wrong otherwise, boy. I 'm not an American now.
If you folks went to war with America to-morrow,
and I was fit to fight, I'd have to fight on your
side. There was an oath I took to serve your
King, when I enlisted, you'U remember."

* * No one would expect an oath like that to bind
you to fight against your own people, ' ' said Larry
quickly.

**In Kentucky, boy," said Kentucky gently, his
speech running, as it always did when he was
stirred into the slurred, soft * * r ' '-less drawl of his
own South, * * an oath is an oath, and a promise is
little sho't of it. I fought foh yoh country be-
cause I thought yoh country was right. But I



PLAY OUT THE GAME 279

oome at last to fight foh her, because IVe got to
be proud of her and of belonging to her. And I
want to pay the best bit of respect I can think of
to those men I fought along with. It just pleases
me some to think poor old Pug and Billy and a
right smart mo' we knew would like it — ^I'm going
to take out naturalization papers just as soon as I
can do if

**Like it," said Larry, with his eyes glistening;
**why, yes, I think they'd like it/'

Kentucky hesitated a little, then went on slowly :
**And theh's some verses I know that have so't
of come to map out a route fo' me to follow.
Oveh theh those verses stood right up an' spoke
to me. I've thought it oveh quite a lot since, an'
it's sure plain to me that I was made to see how
dose they fitted to what I could see, an' heah, an'
undehstand, just so I could use the otheh verses
to show me otheh things I could not undehstand.
I'd like to tell yo' some of those verses an' how
they come in."

He toldn&rst the picture he had seen of the
German prisoners searching amongst their own
heaped dead, while the British guard stood watch-
ing them, and the sky flickered with **the fateful
lightning" and the guns growled their triumph



280 GRAPES OF WRATH

song; and then went on and repeated the verse of

the Battle Hymn, **Mine eyes have seen *'

"Yon see jnst how exact it fitted, '* he said.
**But it wasn't only in that. Theh were otheh
lines'*; and he went on to tell of the journey bac^
from the advanced dressing station, the camp fires
dotting the hills, the mists crawling in the valley,
the lanterns moving to and fro where the bearers
still searched for the wonnded. "Jnst see how it
came in again,'' he said, and repeated another
verse :

I have leen Him in the watch-fires of a hundred circling eampa^
Th^ have builded Him an altar in the evening dews and damps,
I have read His righteous sentence in the dim and flaring lamps,

His truth is marching on.

"That wasn't all," he went on. **The words
fitted 'most everywheh they tonched. All along
I've neveh qmte managed to get so soaked in con-
fidence that we mnst win as every man I've met
in the British Army has been. I've had some
donbts at times ; but that night I lost them all. It
wasn't only seeing the men pouring up into the
firing line, an' the sureness of not being driven
back that I could figure was in the minds of the
higher Commands when they set to building roads
an' rails right up into the captured ground; it



PLAT OUT THE GAME 281

wasn't only the endless stacks of shells and stuflE
piled right there on the back doorstep of the battle,
and the swarms of guns we came back throngh.
It was something that just spoke plain and dear
in my ear, * He has sounded forth the trumpet that
shall never call retreat,' an' IVe had no shadow
of doubt since but that Germany will go undeh,
that theh is nothing left for her but defeat, that
she is to be made to pay to the last bitter squeez-
ing of the grapes of wrath for the blood and
misery she plunged Europe into. Theh will be no
mercy fo' heh. That was told me plain too — ^*I
have read the fiery gospel writ in rows of bur-
nished steel, * * As ye deal with My contemners so
with you My soul shall deal." ' . . . Bernhardi
an' all his lot writ a fiery enough gosi>el, but it's
cold print beside that other one, that strips the
last hope of mercy from His contemners with
their gospel of blood and iron and terror and
f rightfulness." He paused and was silent a little,
and then glanced half-shamef acedly from the flick-
ering fire-shadows at Larry.

**Any one else might think I was talkin' like
a rantin ', crazy, fanatic preacher, ' ' he said. * * But
you an' I, boy, an' most that's been oveh theh, will
undehstand, because we 've learned a lot mo ' than



282 GRAPES OF WRATH

we can eveh tell or speak out loud. ... So IVe
come to believe that all these things fetched home
a plain message to me, an' I'd do right to follow
the rest of the verses as best I could. *As He
died to make men holy, let us die to make men
free,' is straight enough, an' I've got to go oiw
offering my life as long as He sees fit to let me, or
until He sees fit to take it. ' '

He has sounded forth the trumpet that shall never call retreaty
He is sifting out the hearts of men before His judgment seat^
O be swift, mj soul, to answer Him, be jubilant my feet,

Our God is marching on I

He was speaking now slowly and low and
musingly, almost as if he spoke to himself. * * My
heart has had some sifting too. It was so easy
to take this off eh of yo' father's, and live pleasant
an' smooth; an' it was nasty to think about that
otheh life, an ' the muck and misery of it all. But
altho ' I could be no ways swift or jubilant about
it, I came to allow I'd just go again, an' do what
I could."

In the silence that followed they heard the quick
slam of an outer door, and a minute later their
room door swung open and some one entered
briskly, stopped in the half-dark and cried out in



PLAY OUT THE GAME 283

a girPs laughing voice, **Why — ^whatever are you
two boys doing in the dark!'*

Kentucky had jumped to his feet and was mov-
ing round the couch, but Larry's sister st)oke im-
periously. ^^WUl you sit down, Kentuck? How
jpften have I to tell you that you haven't quite es-
caped being an invalid yetf "

** Why, now, I thought I'd been discharged fit,'*
said Kentucky, and Larry called, **Come here,
Eose, and see if you can persuade this crazy fel-
low."

Eose came forward into the firelight and made
Kentucky sit again, and dropped to a seat on the
floor in front of Larry's couch. Kentucky sat
back in the shadow looking at her and thinking
what a picture she made with her pretty English
face framed in a dark close-fitting hat and a heavy
fur round her throat with the outside damp cling-
ing and sparkling on it.

** Persuade him," she said, **what to! Wouldn't
it be easier for me just to order himf "

* ' He talks about going back, ' ' said Larry. * * Out
there — ^to the front again. ' '

The girl sat up wide-eyed. **The front," she
repeated. **But how — ^I don't understand — ^your
hand. . • ."



284 GRAPES OF WRATH

**Not in the firing line,'* said Kentucky quickly,
"I^m not fit for that. But I am fit for Red Cross
work, ' '

** It's as bad/' said Larry, **if you're working
close up, as I know you'd be if you had a chance. ' '

The girl was staring into the flickering fire with
set lips. She looked round suddenly and leaned
forward and slipped a hand on to Kentucky's
knee. **0h, Ken . . . don't, don't go. Stay here
with us."

Kentucky's thought flashed out to * * over there, ' '
where he would move in mud and filth, would be
cold and wet and hungry. He saw himself crawl-
ing a car along the shell-holed muddy track, his
hands stiff with cold, the rain beating and driving
in his face, the groans of his load of wounded be-
hind him, the stench of decay and battle in his nos-
trils, the fear of God and the whistling bullets
and roaring shells cold in his heart. And against
that was this snug, cozy room and all the life that
it stood for . . . and the warm touch of the girl 's
hand on his knee. He wavered a moment while a
line hammered swiftly through his mind, **. . .
sifting out the hearts of men. ..."

Then he spoke quietly, almost casually; but



PLAY OUT THE GAME 285

knowing him as they did, both knew that his words
were completely finaL

**Why, now,'' he said slowly, **Kendrick, my
friend Kendrick of the Bed Cross, asked me ; and
I passed my word, I gave my promise that I'd go/'

Oct 2 9 1917

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Beelzebub, Asmodeus, Bapholada, Lucifer, Loki, Satan,

Cthulhu, Lilith, Della! Blood, to you all!

I'm the wolf, yeah!
I am the wolf! It's close, it's coming. You have come.
The witness to the end, of time. It's now! I will rise to
her side! I don't need the words!
I'm beyond the words!
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Tue Aug 27, 2013 1:16 pm
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Post Re: POST, POST LIKE YOU NEVER POSTED BEFORE!
dam it oj it took too long for me to get through the first 7 chap

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Post Re: POST, POST LIKE YOU NEVER POSTED BEFORE!
Hahaha!!!

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Beelzebub, Asmodeus, Bapholada, Lucifer, Loki, Satan,

Cthulhu, Lilith, Della! Blood, to you all!

I'm the wolf, yeah!
I am the wolf! It's close, it's coming. You have come.
The witness to the end, of time. It's now! I will rise to
her side! I don't need the words!
I'm beyond the words!
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Tue Aug 27, 2013 8:40 pm
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Post Re: POST, POST LIKE YOU NEVER POSTED BEFORE!
Josef Stalin
Stalin's Biography
Stalin, Joseph (1879-1953)
Stalin, a political name adopted when he was 34,
meaning Man of Steel, studied for the priesthood
under his real name, Dzhugashvili. Son of a
shoemaker, he joined the Social Democratic party after
being expelled from a theological school for
insubordination. After the RSDLP split in 1903, Stalin
became a member of the Bolshevik party.
In Stalin's early years he was continually in trouble
with the local authorities. During this period he took
the nickname Koba, after the famous Georgian outlaw
and the name of a character in the romance "Nunu", by
the Georgian author Kazbek. The celebrated brigand
Koba was known as a fighter for the the rights of the
people, while the fictional Koba was depicted as
sacrificing everything in his struggle against the
Tsarist authorities on behalf of his people, but
unsuccesful, freedom was lost.
Koba escaped prison exile several times, at his last
escape he fled to St. Petersburg, where he became a
member of the editorial staff of Pravda in 1912. Within
a year, Stalin was arrested again and exiled to Siberia.
He was released from exile by general amnesty after
the February Revolution of 1917, and went back to
the editorial staff of Pravda in Petrograd.
After the October Revolution Stalin was elected to
the post of commissar for nationalities. Throughout
the following civil war, Stalin ascended the ranks of
the government through extensive bureaucratic
manoeuvering and in 1922, received the majority vote
to become the General Secretary of the Communist
party. In the same year Lenin called for his removal,
explaining that Stalin had amassed to much power, in
what was to become known as Lenin's last testament.
Following Lenin's death in 1924, a wave of
reaction swept through the Soviet government. Stalin
introduced his theory of socialism in one country,
where he explained that Socialism could be achieved
National Heritage Academies 1
History - Geography - Government: Grade 7
Work Sample
http://www.fatherryan.org/holocaust/russian/stalin.htm
by a single country.
Unlike former inner-party debates, where the
positions of either side were written in newspapers,
talked about in public meetings and soviets; the
reaction and practices of the long and devastating
civil war, caused a 'debate' that was completely hidden
from the public, in order to 'establish the appearance'
of a healthy, stable, government.
In 1927, after years of bureaucratic manoeuvering,
the members in the government that were part of the
Left Opposition were deported on a wide scale.
Immediately following, Stalin announced his theory
of social fascism, describing that the theories of
Social-Democracy and Fascism were essentially the
same. Following this new theory, members of
Social-Democratic organisations (of which Bolsheviks
were once a part) were arrested or deported. In 1929
the right-wing of the Communist party, led by
Bukharin, was removed from the so-called "soviet"
government by the Stalinists.
In late 1928, Stalin introduced methods of
productively advancing the Soviet Union via forced
industrialisation and collectivisation. These efforts
were tasked out in five year plans, the first of which
included a widescale campaign of mass executions,
arrests, and deportations of the kulak class.
Russia advanced tremendously from the draconian
measures implemented to ensure that "socialism in one
country" could survive. Russia moved from complete
devastation and destruction after WWI and the Civil
War, to become a nation that was one of the most
powerful in the world: achieving such goals that 30
years previous would have been viewed as wholly
impossible.
From 1934 to 1939 Stalin ordered a series of
executions and imprisonments, largely directed
towards people within the Soviet government. Half of
the members of the first Council of Peoples
Commissars were executed in 1938 (A quarter of them
had died natural deaths before hand, of the remaining
quarter only Stalin lived past 1942). Some
government officials executed were thought to be
Nazi agents or sympathisers, while others were
accused for planning to overthrow the Soviet
government. Members of the Left Opposition who
National Heritage Academies 2
History - Geography - Government: Grade 7
Work Sample
http://www.fatherryan.org/holocaust/russian/stalin.htm
were allowed to return to the party after accepting
Stalinism were soon executed, those who remained
abroad were hunted down and killed. Also executed
were people belonging to the right-wing of the party
(Bukharin and others). The exact number of people
executed is not known, estimates range from
thousands to millions.
During WWII Stalin organised and lead the Soviet
Union to victory over the invading Nazi armies.
Stalin's power
During the second half of the 1920s, Joseph Stalin
set the stage for gaining absolute power by employing
police repression against opposition elements within
the Communist Party. The machinery of coercion had
previously been used only against opponents of
Bolshevism, not against party members themselves.
The first victims were Politburo members Leon
Trotskii, Grigorii Zinov'ev, and Lev Kamenev, who
were defeated and expelled from the party in late
1927. Stalin then turned against Nikolai Bukharin,
who was denounced as a "right opposition," for
opposing his policy of forced collectivization and
rapid industrialization at the expense of the peasantry.
Stalin had eliminated all likely potential opposition
to his leadership by late 1934 and was the
unchallenged leader of both party and state.
Nevertheless, he proceeded to purge the party rank
and file and to terrorize the entire country with
widespread arrests and executions. During the ensuing
Great Terror, which included the notorious show trials
of Stalin's former Bolshevik opponents in 1936-1938
and reached its peak in 1937 and 1938, millions of
innocent Soviet citizens were sent off to labor camps
or killed in prison.
By the time the terror subsided in 1939, Stalin had
managed to bring both the party and the public to a
state of complete submission to his rule. Soviet
society was so atomized and the people so fearful of
reprisals that mass arrests were no longer necessary.
Stalin ruled as absolute dictator of the Soviet Union
throughout World War II and until his death in March
1953. Here is a picture of Stalin himself:
National Heritage Academies 3
History - Geography - Government: Grade 7
Work Sample

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Sat Sep 07, 2013 8:37 am
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Post Re: POST, POST LIKE YOU NEVER POSTED BEFORE!
It's a testament to my new browser switch how fast I loaded this.

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who149 wrote:
I'm trying i'm trying~ i'm making I'll try too slowly up my posting. At least once a day for a bit. Then I'll up that too twice, then four, then 8 and so on.
Until eventually I wake up one morning and find out that I am actually an Idiot hero.
On some quest too cheat on his gf or raise affection of 5 women who conveniently live in my the same dorm as me.
In which I only have 100 days to seduce them all.

Remon wrote:
Now we can dominate the porn industry, camera industry, AND the world!
YomToxic wrote:
YOU BETTER STAY ALIVE OR ELSE I WILL HUNT YOU DOWN AND RAPE YOU DEAD.

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Sun Sep 08, 2013 7:07 am
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Post Re: POST, POST LIKE YOU NEVER POSTED BEFORE!
Indeed it is.

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Sun Sep 08, 2013 3:28 pm
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Post Re: POST, POST LIKE YOU NEVER POSTED BEFORE!
I demand further explanation

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Sun Sep 08, 2013 4:04 pm
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Post Re: POST, POST LIKE YOU NEVER POSTED BEFORE!
On what exactly?

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Post Re: POST, POST LIKE YOU NEVER POSTED BEFORE!
the browser switch

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