Speaker 1: La der natier mobele Azacion by W. A. Dwiggins. On
the left, the road comes up the hill out of
a pool of mist. On the right, it loses itself
in the shadow of a wood. On the far side
of the highway, a hedgerow, dusty in the moonlight, spreads
an irregular border of black from the wood to the fog.
Behind the hedgerow, slender poplar trees, evenly spaced, roll off
the distance with inky lines. A movement stirs the mist.
At the bottom of the hill. A monotonous rhythm grows
in the silence. The mist darkens, and from it there
emerges a strange, shadowy column that reaches slowly up the hill,
moving in silence to the somber and muff beating of
a drum. As it draws nearer, the shadow becomes two
files of marching men, bearing between them a long, dim burden.
The leaders advance into the moonlight. Each two men are
carrying between them a pole, and from pole to pole
have been slung planks, making a continuous platform. But that
which is heaped upon the platform is hidden with muddy blankets.
The uniforms of the men of various sorts, indicating that
they are from. Many commands are in shreds and spotted
with stains of mold and earth. Their heads are bound
in cloth so that their faces are covered. A single
drummer at the side of the column carries slung from
his shoulder the shell of a drum. No flag flies
from the staff at the column's head, but the staff
is held erect. Slowly, the head of the line advances
to the shadow of the wood, touches it, and is swallowed.
The leaders, the bare flag staff, the drummer disappear, but
still from the shade is heard the muffled rhythm of
the drum. Still the column comes out of the mist.
Still it climbs the hill and passes with its endless
articulated burden. At last, the rearmost couple disengages itself from
the mist, ascends, and is swallowed by the shadow. There
remains only the moonlight and the dusty head. From the left,
the road runs from Belgium. To the right it crosses
into France. The dead are leaving their resting places in
that lost land. The end of La dernatier mobel Zassillon
by W. H. Wiggins