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YOUR boy, your friend, may be wounded -- what then? Perhaps he will recover; perhaps he may be permanently disabled -- what then? He may be blinded, he may lose an arm or a leg or both -- what then -- afterwards?

His wounds, you know of course, will be 'glorious' for a time at least -- but what then? How long before he will cease being a hero, and become just a cripple? How long before people will tire of their sympathy? What then? Haven't you thought of this dreadful possibility? Of course you have! Don't you wish to avert it? Of course you do. Well, it can be averted. You can do it.

Vague promises of spiritual benefit are poor consolations for the soldier who has been disabled in the service of his country. A real man's ambition needs more fuel than philosophy. It needs a dignified practical field for endeavor. Discarding all mere sentimentality, then, what, after his convalescence, will be his real position in society? Has he to look forward only to sitting in a chair and being supported -- to becoming a night watchman or an errand boy?

No. This is the literal truth. Many, even most disabled, men will have a chance to be better off, handicapped though they are, after the war than before. Not better off physically; that of course cannot be; but actually better off financially, socially and mentally.

But, to bring this blessing about, you, his friends and relations must help. By your attitude you can decide whether he is to rise to self-respect and usefulness or to fall to the status of a mere parasite and object of pity. All that is necessary is for you to understand his opportunity, and insist that your boy avails himself of it.

Already the Government is planning the greatest educational work ever conceived. Every disabled man discharged from the hospitals -- beginning indeed, at his bedside, long before he is discharged -- will be given, if he will accept it, a thorough course of vocational instruction in the trade or profession for which he is best suited. These courses lasting just as long as is necessary to make him competent, will make him able to compete successfully even with whole men.

Think what that means -- a free technical education for your boy! Perhaps he was a machinist. With efficient instruction that he could not before afford, he may fit himself to be a foreman in his old shop. If before he was wounded, he was only a 'hand', he may be taught enough to make him an expert. Before the war he took any job he could get. Under the supervision of the best obtainable vocational teachers, he will be trained for the job for which he is the best adapted or most inclined.

Do such possible results seem marvelous? Here in the United States, civilians have achieved inspiring victories over their so-called disabilities. Already in England, France and Germany the work has been going on; and all this has been accomplished. Just look at these authentic cases and see:

A. Clay, of the Royal Engineers, was paralyzed in the right arm. Before the war he was a butcher. Now he is a telephone engineer.

C. S. Wooding, a sailor in the British Navy, lost his right leg. Before the war he was a laborer; now, a hand boot-maker.

C. E. James, of the British Royal Marines, lost his right leg. Before the war he was a gardener; now an electrician in C. A. V. Magneto Works.

In the soldier-student list in the vocational schools at Alberta there is a lumberman who, after having his right leg destroyed in the war, was educated in motor-mechanics, and afterwards fitted himself for the civil service and now holds a position in the Canadian customs at a $2,000 salary.

An ex-carpenter, having lost all of his right hand except the thumb and index finger, has fitted himself as a building inspector.

At the Ecole de Tourvielle at Lyons, a boy of twenty-two, wounded in the right thigh and right wrist, had been a restaurant waiter. Now he has obtained a diploma as wireless operator.

At the Ecole Joffre, a former farm worker who had lost his arm, has become a cutter in a bindery, and his output at a motor-driven machine is equal to that of a normal man's.

At the National Belgian School at Port Villez, a waiter with one hand crippled has qualified as a sign-painter and is succeeding at that trade.

In a Canadian convalescent hospital a mechanic after being healed of his wounds now earns double his former salary as foreman of a machine shop.

A driver of a milk wagon took up mechanical drawing and after six weeks' instruction secured a position at a salary of $7S a month with good prospects of advancement.

A locomotive fireman after losing one arm, received special instruction in telegraphy and railway routine and became a station agent. A mechanic qualified as a custom-house clerk.

A guide and trapper with one eye blinded and the other injured, became a first-class carpenter.

Not every man, of course, can double his pay; but almost every handicapped man can be educated to earn his own living. And often the training provided reveals astonishing talents that have never been suspected even by the man himself.