ough talk about losing。 What has been done this summer cannot have been done in vain。〃
I did not say anything。 I was always embarrassed by the words sacred； glorious； and sacrifice and the expression in vain。 We had heard them； sometimes standing in the rain almost out of earshot； so that only the shouted words came through； and had read them； on proclamations that were slapped up by billposters over other proclamations； now for a long time； and I had seen nothing sacred； and the things that were glorious had no glory and the sacrifices were like the stockyards at Chicago if nothing was done with the meat except to bury it。 There were many words that you could not stand to hear and finally only the names of places had dignity。 Certain numbers were the same way and certain dates and these with the names of the places were all you could say and have them mean anything。 Abstract words such as glory； honor； courage； or hallow were obscene beside the concrete names of villages； the numbers of roads； the names of rivers； the numbers of regiments and the dates。 Gino was a patriot； so he said things that separated us sometimes； but he was also a fine boy and I understood his being a patriot。 He was born one。 He left with Peduzzi in the car to go back to Gorizia。
It stormed all that day。 The wind drove down the rain and everywhere there was standing water and mud。 The plaster of the broken houses was gray and wet。 Late in the afternoon the rain stopped and from out number two post I saw the bare wet autumn country with clouds over the tops of the hills and the straw screening over the roads wet and dripping。 The sun came out once before it went down and shone on the bare woods beyond the ridge。 There were many Austrian guns in the woods on that ridge but only a few