But by that same flickery light I saw something.

On the breast of his grease-spattered blouse dangled a black-and-white ribbon with a black-and-white Maltese cross fastened to it.

I marveled that a company cook should wear the Iron Cross of the second class and I asked the captain about it.

He laughed at the wonder that was evident in my tones.
"If you will look more closely," he said, "you will see that a good many of our cooks already have won the Iron Cross since this war began, and a good many others will yet win it--if they live.

We have no braver men in our army than these fellows.