This new youthfulness of heart under the contemned menace of death, this
innocence in the daily fulfilment of heroic duty, is assured by a
spiritual state akin to sanctity.




LETTERS




LETTERS OF A SOLDIER


_August 6, 1914._

MY VERY DEAR MOTHER,--These are my first days of life at war, full of
change, but the fatigue I actually feel is very different from what I
foresaw.

I am in a state of great nervous tension because of the want of sleep
and exercise. I lead the life of a government clerk. I belong to what is
called the dépôt, I am one of those doing sedentary work, and destined
eventually to fill up the gaps in the fighting line.

What we miss is news; there are no longer any papers to be had in this
town.