I was going into battle, was I?
I was to have to-night the supreme experience of my life?
It might be that to-night I should die--only last week two members of the Red Cross--a nurse and a doctor--had been killed.

It might be that these stars, this straw, this quiet night were round me for the last time.

It did not matter to me--nothing could touch me.

My soul was somewhere far away, upon some business of its own, and how happy was my body without the soul, how contented, how undisturbed! I could fancy that I should go, thus rocking, into battle and there die before my soul had time to return to me.

What would my soul do then?
Find some other body, or go wandering, searching for me?
A star, a flash of light like a cry of happiness or of glad surprise, fell through heaven and the other stars trembled at the sight.
My wagon stopped with a jerk.