The Martian, journal publié par les soldats américains de l'Hôpital de Mars-sur-Allier , item 19

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THE MARTIAN

Hommes - 36-40

Chevaux - 8

Vol. 1 - No. 27.   SUNDAY, February 23, 1919   Price: 30 centimes

----

THE CAMP FROM THE CLOUDS

There are only two points of vantage from which you can see Mars Hospital Center in its entirety. One of them is the top of the massive water tower in the Convalescent Camp. The other is an airplane flying over it. 

  A peculiar thrill accompanies an airplane ascent. There comes a strange sensation as you climb into the "fuselage," feeling that you have only a few moments more on solid earth and that all the wonders of the sky are before you. The engines start with a tremendous whirr; the 'plane moves forward slowly and unsteadily, bumping a little here and there, followed by a slight increase in speed. Suddenly the jolting stops. You seem to be riding on the softest down. There remains nothing to the world except that mass and tangle of machinery before you and the deafening roar of the engines. You cannot resist the temptation to test your voice against its uproar, but your shout returns to you without sound.

  The aviator inclines his machine upward and you watch trees and fences and the buildings fly past you. You have lost your sense of motion and there is nothing but the wind to prove that you are in flight. Higher and higher you go, and then the 'plane is veered so that you are going in the direction of the hospital center. It is difficult to muster up courage enough to look over the rim of that little world which for the moment is all that is firm and substantial in a universe of ethereal fabric. You experience momentary dizziness, for the slow moving checkered ground is fully four or five hundred feet below, but you quickly readjust yourself to it.

  The sensation of novelty into which some slight thread of fear is woven, is replaced by an elation, - a sort of ecstatic joy that you have mastered another element and that you are riding high above all things ordinary. It is doubtless something of the spirit of the mounting skylark. You look at the panorama without vestige of fear and even the roaring of the motor has vanished for your ears have become accustomed to it and the nerves of this sense numbed.

  The entire area is spread out below you like a rug, the buildings, looking like so many elements of the pattern, showing plainly against the background of green and brown.

  There are long criss-crosses of white streaks which you are certain are roads. In regular narrow sections are rows and rows of buildings, nearly all of them alike in size and color. You can see the ground plan of sections and of buildings. The impression of size is slightly lessened because of the great height, for men seem mere dots and the ward buildings take on a peculiar flattened appearance. But you take note of the relative distance between units and the various landmarks such as the old mill tower, the sawmill, Topside, and the water tower, and a mental adjustment of terrestrial experiences with these distances asserts itself. The realization of the great extent of it all makes a forceful impression. The regularity of design and the reason for things that seemed vague and arbitrary become apparent. Men are not so plentiful as they once were, but you see the vacant spaces where lumber has been piled or the foundations for other buildings dug and you wonder what its ultimate size and scope might have been had the need continued.

  Then the airplane takes another direction, and you are gazing first at some distant French villages with their picturesque gables and chimney pots and colorful roofs, then at isolated buildings, with the Allier river flowing by like a ribbon of silver. You turn and the camp again comes into view.

  Suddenly something happens and the immediate question is so pressing that you have

(Continued on page 2)

Transcription saved

THE MARTIAN

Hommes - 36-40

Chevaux - 8

Vol. 1 - No. 27.   SUNDAY, February 23, 1919   Price: 30 centimes

----

THE CAMP FROM THE CLOUDS

There are only two points of vantage from which you can see Mars Hospital Center in its entirety. One of them is the top of the massive water tower in the Convalescent Camp. The other is an airplane flying over it. 

  A peculiar thrill accompanies an airplane ascent. There comes a strange sensation as you climb into the "fuselage," feeling that you have only a few moments more on solid earth and that all the wonders of the sky are before you. The engines start with a tremendous whirr; the 'plane moves forward slowly and unsteadily, bumping a little here and there, followed by a slight increase in speed. Suddenly the jolting stops. You seem to be riding on the softest down. There remains nothing to the world except that mass and tangle of machinery before you and the deafening roar of the engines. You cannot resist the temptation to test your voice against its uproar, but your shout returns to you without sound.

  The aviator inclines his machine upward and you watch trees and fences and the buildings fly past you. You have lost your sense of motion and there is nothing but the wind to prove that you are in flight. Higher and higher you go, and then the 'plane is veered so that you are going in the direction of the hospital center. It is difficult to muster up courage enough to look over the rim of that little world which for the moment is all that is firm and substantial in a universe of ethereal fabric. You experience momentary dizziness, for the slow moving checkered ground is fully four or five hundred feet below, but you quickly readjust yourself to it.

  The sensation of novelty into which some slight thread of fear is woven, is replaced by an elation, - a sort of ecstatic joy that you have mastered another element and that you are riding high above all things ordinary. It is doubtless something of the spirit of the mounting skylark. You look at the panorama without vestige of fear and even the roaring of the motor has vanished for your ears have become accustomed to it and the nerves of this sense numbed.

  The entire area is spread out below you like a rug, the buildings, looking like so many elements of the pattern, showing plainly against the background of green and brown.

  There are long criss-crosses of white streaks which you are certain are roads. In regular narrow sections are rows and rows of buildings, nearly all of them alike in size and color. You can see the ground plan of sections and of buildings. The impression of size is slightly lessened because of the great height, for men seem mere dots and the ward buildings take on a peculiar flattened appearance. But you take note of the relative distance between units and the various landmarks such as the old mill tower, the sawmill, Topside, and the water tower, and a mental adjustment of terrestrial experiences with these distances asserts itself. The realization of the great extent of it all makes a forceful impression. The regularity of design and the reason for things that seemed vague and arbitrary become apparent. Men are not so plentiful as they once were, but you see the vacant spaces where lumber has been piled or the foundations for other buildings dug and you wonder what its ultimate size and scope might have been had the need continued.

  Then the airplane takes another direction, and you are gazing first at some distant French villages with their picturesque gables and chimney pots and colorful roofs, then at isolated buildings, with the Allier river flowing by like a ribbon of silver. You turn and the camp again comes into view.

  Suddenly something happens and the immediate question is so pressing that you have

(Continued on page 2)


Transcription history
  • November 17, 2017 15:08:47 Thomas A. Lingner

    THE MARTIAN

    Hommes - 36-40

    Chevaux - 8

    Vol. 1 - No. 27.   SUNDAY, February 23, 1919   Price: 30 centimes

    ----

    THE CAMP FROM THE CLOUDS

    There are only two points of vantage from which you can see Mars Hospital Center in its entirety. One of them is the top of the massive water tower in the Convalescent Camp. The other is an airplane flying over it. 

      A peculiar thrill accompanies an airplane ascent. There comes a strange sensation as you climb into the "fuselage," feeling that you have only a few moments more on solid earth and that all the wonders of the sky are before you. The engines start with a tremendous whirr; the 'plane moves forward slowly and unsteadily, bumping a little here and there, followed by a slight increase in speed. Suddenly the jolting stops. You seem to be riding on the softest down. There remains nothing to the world except that mass and tangle of machinery before you and the deafening roar of the engines. You cannot resist the temptation to test your voice against its uproar, but your shout returns to you without sound.

      The aviator inclines his machine upward and you watch trees and fences and the buildings fly past you. You have lost your sense of motion and there is nothing but the wind to prove that you are in flight. Higher and higher you go, and then the 'plane is veered so that you are going in the direction of the hospital center. It is difficult to muster up courage enough to look over the rim of that little world which for the moment is all that is firm and substantial in a universe of ethereal fabric. You experience momentary dizziness, for the slow moving checkered ground is fully four or five hundred feet below, but you quickly readjust yourself to it.

      The sensation of novelty into which some slight thread of fear is woven, is replaced by an elation, - a sort of ecstatic joy that you have mastered another element and that you are riding high above all things ordinary. It is doubtless something of the spirit of the mounting skylark. You look at the panorama without vestige of fear and even the roaring of the motor has vanished for your ears have become accustomed to it and the nerves of this sense numbed.

      The entire area is spread out below you like a rug, the buildings, looking like so many elements of the pattern, showing plainly against the background of green and brown.

      There are long criss-crosses of white streaks which you are certain are roads. In regular narrow sections are rows and rows of buildings, nearly all of them alike in size and color. You can see the ground plan of sections and of buildings. The impression of size is slightly lessened because of the great height, for men seem mere dots and the ward buildings take on a peculiar flattened appearance. But you take note of the relative distance between units and the various landmarks such as the old mill tower, the sawmill, Topside, and the water tower, and a mental adjustment of terrestrial experiences with these distances asserts itself. The realization of the great extent of it all makes a forceful impression. The regularity of design and the reason for things that seemed vague and arbitrary become apparent. Men are not so plentiful as they once were, but you see the vacant spaces where lumber has been piled or the foundations for other buildings dug and you wonder what its ultimate size and scope might have been had the need continued.

      Then the airplane takes another direction, and you are gazing first at some distant French villages with their picturesque gables and chimney pots and colorful roofs, then at isolated buildings, with the Allier river flowing by like a ribbon of silver. You turn and the camp again comes into view.

      Suddenly something happens and the immediate question is so pressing that you have

    (Continued on page 2)


  • November 17, 2017 15:03:25 Thomas A. Lingner

    THE MARTIAN

    Hommes - 36-40

    Chevaux - 8

    Vol. 1 - No. 27.   SUNDAY, February 23, 1919   Price: 30 centimes

    ----

    THE CAMP FROM THE CLOUDS

    There are only two points of vantage from which you can see Mars Hospital Center in its entirety. One of them is the top of the massive water tower in the Convalescent Camp. The other is an airplane flying over it. 

      A peculiar thrill accompanies an airplane ascent. There comes a strange sensation as you climb into the "fuselage," feeling that you have only a few moments more on solid earth and that all the wonders of the sky are before you. The engines start with a tremendous whirr; the 'plane moves forward slowly and unsteadily, bumping a little here and there, followed by a slight increase in speed. Suddenly the jolting stops. You seem to be riding on the softest down. There remains nothing to the world except that mass and tangle of machinery before you and the deafening roar of the engines. You cannot resist the temptation to test your voice against its uproar, but your shout returns to you without sound.

      The aviator inclines his machine upward and you watch trees and fences and the buildings fly past you. You have lost your sense of motion and there is nothing but the wind to prove that you are in flight. Higher and higher you go, and then the 'plane is veered so that you are going in the direction of the hospital center. It is difficult to muster up courage enough to look over the rim of that little world which for the moment is all that is firm and substantial in a universe of ethereal fabric. You experience momentary dizziness, for the slow moving checkered ground is fully four or five hundred feet below, but you quickly readjust yourself to it.

      The sensation of novelty into which some slight thread of fear is woven, is replaced by an elation, - a sort of ecstatic joy that you have mastered another element and that you are riding high above all things ordinary. It is doubtless something of the spirit of the mounting skylark. You look at the panorama without vestige of fear and even the roaring of the motor has vanished for your ears have become accustomed to it and the nerves of this sense numbed.

      


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  • 46.85599792463026||3.0879743000000417||

    Mars-sur-Allier

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ID
13708 / 140119
Source
http://europeana1914-1918.eu/...
Contributor
Médiathèque municipale Jean Jaurès de Nevers
License
http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0/

February 23, 1919
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