Photoplay (Jan-Jun 1920)

112 Photoplay Magazine — Advertising Section ^Bettertfian a mustard pltister Once when grandma's joints commenced to ache and twinge, she used to go to the mustard pot and make a mustard plaster. Now she goes to Musterole and gets relief, but does without the blister and the plaster, too! My, how good that Musterole feels when you rub it in gently over that lame back and those sore muscles. First you feel the gentle tingle, then the delightful, soothing coolness that reaches in the twinging joints or stiff, sore muscles. It penetrates to the heart of the congestion. This is because it is made of oil of Mustard and other home simples. And the heat generated by Musterole will not blister. On the contrary the peculiarity of Musterole lies in the fact that chortly it gives you such a cool, relieved feeling all about the twingey part. And Musterole usually brings the relief while you are rubbini? it on. Always keep a jar handy. Many doctors and nurses recommend Musterole. 30c and 60c jars — $2.50 hospital size. The Musterole Co., Cleveland, Ohio BEHER THAN A MUSTARD PLASTER Sanifarif Liquid Hair Remover The "Womanly" Way to Remove Hair ElRado is a sanitary lotion that simply washes the hair off by dissolving it — leaving tiie underarms soft, smooth and dainty. You can wear chiffon sleeves without any dress shields and enjoy a delightful sensation of comfort and cleanliness, after removing the hair with El-Rado. Entirely harmles*!. Users of powdered hair removers and blades will find an occasional use of El-Rado liquid is good for the skin. Ask for "El-Rado" hair remover at any toilet goods counter. Two sizes, 60c and $1.00. Money-back guarantee. Orders filled direct on receipt of staiii]is if dealer cannot supply you. PU-GRIM MFG. CO.. Depl P, 112 E. 19lli St.. New York Canadian Address. THE ARTHUR SALES CO., Depl. P 61 Adelaide Street East, Toronto Major Warwick in France ( Continued) I had him cornered and his six feet high by two feet wide availed him not. Being helpless he spoke, and it was of Foch at Strassburg; and because the story has not been told before here it is: "Immediately after the armistice I was ordered to Strassburg, and was on duty for the general staff with General Gouraud's Fourth French Army of Occupation. Strassburg as a city is wonderfully picturesque, moldy, ancient and eternal. It was Thanksgiving morning and it was raining; a fine drizzle filled the air. The division, the Twentieth, Vv'as drawn up waiting for Foch — in the citadel of Strassburg — fifteen thousand veterans who had gone through the entire war, but not under this command. The Twentieth was one of the immortals; it had been cut to pieces many times and as many times the gaps had been filled up. Most of these men had been wounded, some more than once. Despite the rain, which enclosed the army and the city in its amphitheater of silver gray, the poilus bore themselves with a certain jauntiness. Their uniforms were faded, tattered, muddy, their feet out at shoes and their faces bearded, but there was something dauntless and heroic about them. This was their day— -Le jour de gloire. I was a very fortunate spectator; a French officer had taken me to a position high up in the citadel and from that point, alone, I saw what so impressively unfolded. "Presently through one of the wide gates of the citadel, which is a large, walled-in enclosure of vast parade ground and barracks, came dashing many troops of the brilliant cavalry of the Spahis. The entry was dramatic, but the supreme moment arrived which Marshall Foch himself, with General Weygand on one side and General Castelnau on the other, appeared at a canter under the massive arch. The massed bands playing the Marseillaise; the battle flags; the division, rigid and at attention, and the figure of the commander in chief of the allied armies as he rode before the lines with keen gray eyes flashing their pride all made a glorified picture. His pride, it could be seen, was in his men, in these sons of France, all brothers of his. This day and its events revealed to me the real Foch. Here was one of the greatest commanders of history who bore his honors almost with humility. While there was no let down from military exactitude in his bearing it was easy to see that here was a man to whom the opportunity to serve his country was the one big thing and the -personal glory he got out of it negligible. "A ceremony followed the review.^ The marshal was presented with the scimitar of Kleber, one of the marshals under Napoleon. With the bands again striking up the national hymn and the battle flags in a vivid cluster, the division led by Marshall Foch, passed through one of the gates of the citadel and marched to the great Place Kleber and formed a hollow square from which the Marshal alone rode forward with drawn scimitar, saluted the heroic statue of Napoleon's famous general. There was a dash, something intrepid about the Marshal's action which proved that his spirit was young although age and concentrated thought had so lined his face that it looked like a map. Following this Foch pinned the decoration of Grand Officer of the Legion of Honor upon the breast of General Vandenburg, the only soldier present wearing the ceremonial black uniform of peace times. From here there was a procession to the Cathedral of Strassburg where the marshal, with the devotion for which he is noted, knelt before the altar while the Te Deum was chanted. To have been in Strassburg on that day and to have seen the invincible Twentieth Division reviewed by one of the greatest military geniuses of all time — well, you can imagine how I feel about it." Major Warwick tells things far more feelingly than they look in print; he gives his pictures a vitality and color that can't be put down. Being in the pictures he knows no one and, with instinct and trained technic, he seizes the values. But it was not only the visual that interested him or that he brought back. The major associated with some of the biggest figures in the war game, diplomats as well as soldiers, and between the business of dodging some tons of German metal in a varied assortment of sizes and shapes and in divers places, he was compiling a small but very absorbing Who's Who in the universe. Major Warwick became exceptionally well acquainted with Lord Reading, who headed a special mission from England to the United States. Warwick, then a caplain, was assigned to the Lord Chief Justice as aide and one day asked him— "Who is the greatest speaker in the United States?" "President Wilson'" said Lord Reading, "but he is not so effective when heard as when read. But Lloyd George," he said, "was supreme in creating emotional effects." "One day," continued Major Warwick, "I accompanied Lord Reading to General Mangin's headquarters. The general and his staff were at luncheon and there was an animated discussion over the progress of the war and the question whether any of the allied nations would sue for peace. "What are the American people saying about peace?" General Mangin asked of Lord Reading. The Englishman, speaking as though America was his country, answered with a confidence in which there was something thrilling. "We do not speak of peace in America and will not until the job is complete." "C'est bien, c'est bien 1" cried the general. The major had many contacts with Pershing, came on a special mission to the United States for the American commander in chief, but really discovered him, he said, not in the man but in his works. "I had exceptional opportunity to learn what the American army under General Pershing accomplished in France," he related, "as my duties took me to every point in the great zones of activity behind the lines and in the sectors of the front. The organization of the American Army was beyond praise or description. It was in his tremendous grasp of a problem which had never been approached in vastness or complexity that General Pershing establis'iied himself as one of the very great soldiers of the war." Warwick was aide to Thomas Nelson Page when the Ambassador to Italy visited General Pershing in the St. Mihiel sector, but do not think that the major was always escorting great people around or having an easy time. There was danger and a lot of it in this sort of employment, but all other situations were enviable, he says, as compared with that night he was carrying dispatches into Paris. It was 1 130 a. m. when the German bombardment from the sky began to drop. "I thought the top of the world had caved in," said Warwick. "But that was the last time they tried an air raid." As a captain Warwick entered the Great Staff college at Langres, , a walled citadel built in Caesar's time, where 30,000 soldiers from privates to colonels, were attending thirty schools and getting additional hints on how to lick the Germans. On the day of the armistice Warwick came from the college with his G2 which, speaking by the i Every advertisement in PHOTOPLAY MAGAZINE Is guaranteed.