WAR MEMORIES BY STEPHEN CRANE UT to get the real thing ! ' cried Vernal!, the war correspondent. ' It seems impossible ! It is because war is neither magnificent nor squalid ; it is simply life, and an expression of life can always evade us. We can never tell life, one to another, although sometimes we think we can.' When I climbed aboard the despatch boat at Key West the mate told me irritably that, as soon as we crossed the bar, we would find ourselves monkey-climbing over heavy seas. It wasn't myfault, but he seemed to insinuate that it was all a result of my incapacity. Therewere four correspondents in the party. The leader of us came aboard with ahuge bunchof bananas, which he hung like a chandelier in the centre of the tinycabin. We made acquaintance over, around, and under this bunchof bananas, which really occupied the cabin as. a soldier occupies a sentry box. But the bunch did not become really aggressive until we were well at sea. Then it began to spar. With the first roll of the ship, it launched its bulk at McCurdy and knocked him wildly through the door to the deck-rail, where he hung cursing hysterically. Without a moment's pause, it made for me. I flung myself head-first into mybunkand watched the demon sweep Brownlow into a corner and wedge his knee behind a sea-chest. Kary gave a shrill cry and fled. The bunchof bananas swung to and fro, silent, determined, ferocious, looking for more men. It had cleared a space for itself. My comrades looked in at the door, calling upon me to grab the thing and hold it. I pointed out to them the security and comfort of my position. They were angry. Finally the mate came and lashed the thing so that it could not prowl about the cabin and assault innocent war correspondents. You see ? War ! A bunch of bananas rampant because the ship rolled. In that early period of the war we were forced to continue our dreams. And we were all dreamers, envisioning the sea with death grapples, ship and ship. Even the navy grew cynical. Officers on the bridge lifted their megaphones and told you in resigned voices that they were out of ice, onions, and eggs. At other times they would shoot quite casually at us with six-pounders. This industry usually progressed in the night, but it sometimes happened in the day. There was never any resentment on our side, although at moments there was some nervousness. They were impressively quick with their lanyards ; our means of replying to signals were cor- respondingly slow. They gave you opportunity to say, ' Heaven guard me ! ' Then they shot. But we recognised the propriety of it. Everything was correct save the war, which lagged and lagged and lagged. It did not play ; it was not a gory giant ; it was a bunch of bananas swung in the middle of the cabin. io
RkJQdWJsaXNoZXIy OTcyMjk=