Radio mirror (Nov 1936-Apr 1937)

RADIO MIRROR the first American troops land on English soil and then French soil, nor how he was present when the first American shot was fired. Not what he saw happen to others, which was enough to fill several volumes, but what happened to him, and the effect it had upon him. He started his eighteen months as a war correspondent filled with the same idealism that was in the hearts of all Americans. He looked upon the war as a glorious adventure, too, but in back of this there was the hope that here was a war to end wars, "to make the world safe for democracy." When the Armistice was signed he no longer believed that war was a glorious adventure, but he did believe that America's part in this particular shambles had been justified. He thought the Armistice meant the end of autocracy and tyranny, and for that reason he was glad the war had been fought. He knows now that he was wrong. Floyd was wounded on June 6, 1918, in the Bois de Belleau, just north of Chateau-Thierry and only forty miles from Paris. Only that morning he'd left Paris by motor for a quick look at the front. Officially, he was a non-combatant, although he wore a uniform and was attached to the General Staff of the army as an accredited correspondent. He was accompanied, this morning, by Lieutenant Oscar Hartzell, a former correspondent; and they had permission to go into the front lines. j\ BOUT five o'clock in the afternoon *» they came to the front line of attack on the edge of the woods. In front of them was a clear space of about two hundred yards, across which was another clump of trees, partly occupied by Germans. The American troops were just preparing to cross that field and storm the nest of machine guns in the forest opposite, and Floyd and Hartzell obtained permission to follow them across. The American troops took the wood, but fighting was still going on, and several German machine-gun posts were still working when Floyd and Hartzell started across the field, accompanied by Major John Berry, the battalion commander. All went well until the three men reached a small v-shaped oat field at the bottom of a slight slope. As they started across the field a perfect storm of machine-gun fire broke out at their left, making the tops of the oats wave and sway as if a breeze were blowing. Major Berry dropped, seriously wounded in the arm. Floyd, fifteen feet behind him, threw himself down on the ground, calling to Hartzell to do the same. "We've got to get out of here." called the Major, "they'll start shelling this open field in a few minutes." "Wait until I can get up there and I'll help you," Floyd called back, and he started to edge along over the ground, keeping as flat as possible. But not flat enough. Suddenly, as Floyd describes it, a lighted cigarette touched him on his upper arm. A bullet had passed right through the bicep muscle. A few minutes later, as he continued to wiggle forward, he was struck again, on his left shoulder. And finally he was hit a third time. A bullet struck the ground under his left cheek bone, ricochetted upward, and went completely through the left eye and out through his forehead, causing a compound fracture of the skull. Floyd didn't lose consciousness. Instead, he proved once and for all that he's a reporter before he's anything else. He lay there, dangerously wounded, and catalogued his sensations, satisfying himself at last on a question he'd always wondered about: how it feels to be shot. For three hours, until it got dark, Floyd and Hartzell lay in that field. Floyd couldn't move, and Hartzell wouldn't unless he could get Floyd out of there. Now and then they called cautiously to each other across the fifteen feet that separated them. The field was still being raked and cross-raked by machine-gun fire; and the two men didn't want to call attention to themselves by making too much noise. Major Berry, they learned later, had managed to gain the shelter of the woods in safety. GERMAN guns weren't their only danger. Information was on the way to the American artillery concerning the location of the German machine gun nest, and Floyd knew that if the information arrived while he and Hartzell were still in that field they would be wiped out by shells from their own men's guns. . At last, after what seemed an eternity, it grew dark, and Hartzell was able to crawl to Floyd's side and help him out of the field. Weak as he was from loss of blood, Floyd nevertheless managed to walk a mile to the nearest dressing station, where his wounds were given first-aid treatment; then he was put in an ambulance and sent to an American hospital near Paris. Thanks to the skill of the American doctors and nurses, Floyd, who had come in with one bullet through the arm, another through the shoulder, an eye shot out, and a compound fracture of the skull, was able to walk out of that hospital in ten days. Toward the end of the summer of 1918, after the Allies had broken the back of Germany's offense at Chateau-Thierry, Floyd returned to America on a lecture tour. The end of the war was in sight, "*m#*r Pretty, popular— the girls who guard against Cosmetic Skin YOUNG THINGS have a way of knowing what's what in beauty care. Thousands of them everywhere are keeping skin exquisite with Lux Toilet Soap. Its ACTIVE lather removes from the pores every trace of dust, dirt, stale cosmetics— guards against the tiny blemishes, enlarged pores that mean Cosmetic Skin. You can use all the cosmetics you wish ! But before you put on fresh make-up — ALWAYS before you go to bed, use this gentle care. Keep your skin clear — smooth — young. You'll find it pays! 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