Other voices, rising out of the scraps of paper, Till they mix in a single voice that says over and over “It is cold. It is wet. We marched till we couldn’t stand up. It is muddy here. I wish you could see us here. I wish everybody at home could see us here. They would know what war is like. We are still patriotic. We are going to fight. We hope this general’s good. We hope he can make us win. We’ll do all we can. But I wish we could show everybody who stays at home What this is like.”