The cities from which they came, were many of them, splendid monuments of the work of man.

The sun clothed in glory the days, moon and stars gave a loveliness to the nights.

Leaving these things to face suffering and hardship; possible death in strange lands, caused many a pang; but a man's work had to be done, and they were there to do it.
Well they knew there would be no chance in France to follow the wild bee to its tree; to track the fox or hunt the 'possum or the coon.

The hum they would hear would be that of machine gun bullets; their sting, death or serious wounding.

For game they would hunt the Hun; would kill or be by him killed.
There were busy times in thousands of homes when the young Negroes of the land; from East, West, North and South went forth to war.
Bright faces hiding the pangs of parting; happy, singing lads left their homes to enter a new life on earth or, the tragedy of it; also the glory; a new life in the great Beyond; beyond the stars and flaming suns.