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* ^ W MACHIN P | CHAPTER III. ! - ; I Go to Church. Upon enlistment we had Identity disks Issued to us. These were small ; disks of red fiber worn around the neck by means of a string. Most of the Tomimies also used a little metal disk which ithey wore around the left wrist by | means of a chain. They had previously figured it out that if their heads J were blown off, the disk on the left wrist would identify them. If they lost i [their left arm the disk around the ned | would serve the purpose, but if theL ihead and left arm were blown off, nt VDoe would care who they were, so I did not matter. On one side of the ;disk was inscribed your rank, name,; number and battalion, while on the | (Other was stamped your religion. j j C. of E., meaning Church of England; R. C., Roman Catholic; W., Wes leyan; P., Presbyterian; but If you \ happened to be an atheist they left it jblank, and just handed you a pick and jshovel. On my disk was stamped C. of jBL This is how I got it: The lieuteniant who enlisted me asked my religion. ;I was not sure of the religion of the British army, so I answered, "Oh, any old thing," and he promptly put down la .of EL I Now, just imagine my hard luck. Out of five religions I was unlucky enough j to pick the only one where church % phrade was compulsory! The next morning was Sunday. I was sitting in the billet writing home to my sister telling her of my wonderful exploits while under fire?all re - i. ?-J? crmts 00 mis. xne sergeant luajvi put his head In the door of the billet and shouted: "C. of E. outside for church parade!" I kept on writing, burning to me, in a loud voice, he asked, "Empey, aren't ? you C. of E. ?" , j I answered, "Yep." In an angry tone, he commanded, , "Dont you 'yep* me. Say, 'Yes, ser-: s geant major.'" , "I did so. Somewhat mollified, he i ordered, "Outside for church parade." : I looked up and answered, "I am .not going to church this morning." ; He said, "Oh, yes, you are!" I answered, "Oh, no, I'm not !" ?But / jl went. We lined up outside with rifles and bayonets, 120 rounds of ammunition, wearing our tin hats, and the march to church began. After marching about five kilos, we turned off the road into an open .field. At one end of this field the chaplain was standing in a limber. * jWe formed a semicircle around him. Overhead there was a black speck circling round and round in the sky. This was a German Fokker. The chaplain had a book in his left hand?left eye on the book??right eye on the airplane.; We Tommies were lucky, we had no j books, so had both eyes on the airplane. After church parade we were marched back to our billets, and played football all afternoon. ; CHAPTER IV. \ ! ? "Into the Trench." j The next morning the draft was inspected by ?ur general, and we were . assigned to different companies. The boys in the brigade had nicknamed this general Old Pepper, and he certainly earned the sobriquet. I was assigned to B company with another I American named Stewart, j For the next ten days we "rested," j repairing roads for the Frenchies, drill|ing, and digging bombing trenches. One morning we were informed that ;we were going up the line, and our 'march began. j It took us three days to reach reiserve billets?each day's march bringing the sound of the guns nearer and nearer. At night, way off in the distance we could see the\r flashes, which lighted up the sky with a red glare. * Against the horizon we could see numerous observation balloons or "sausages" as they are called. On the afternoon of the third day's march I witnessed my first airplane being shelled. A thrill ran through me and I gazed in awe. The airplane was making wide circles in the air, while little puffs of white smoke were bursting all around it. These puffs appeared like tiny balls of cotton while after each burst could be heard a dull "plop." The sergeant of my platoon informed us that it was a German airnlano and I wondered bow he could teU from such a distance because tne piane .'seemed like a little black speck in the ;sky. I expressed my doubt as to whether it was English, French or German. With a look of contempt he further informed us that the allied antiaircraft shells when exploding emitted white smoke while the German shells gave forth black smoke, and, as he expressed it, "It must be an Allemand because our pom-poms are shelling, and ;I know our batteries are not off their : bally nappers and are certainly not jstrafeing our own planes, and another [piece of advice?don't chuck your DMl WM SOLDER 0 WENT * * IllMJYEflPLY l MEUERVM FRANCE* ?1917 BY ARTHUR Gl/y EflPEY weight about untn you've oeen up rne :line and learnt something." I immediately quit "chucking my weight about" from that time on. Just before reaching reserve billets we were mrrching along, laughing, and singing one of Tommy's trench ditties: I want to go home, I want to go home, I don t want to go to the trenches no more Where sausages and whizz-bangs are galore. Take me over the sea. Where the A12emand can't get at me. Oh, my, I don't want to die, I want to go home?" when overhead came a "swish" through the air, rapidly followed by three others. Then about two hundred yards to our left in a large field, four columns of black earth and smoke rose into the air, and the ground trembled from the report?the explosion of four German five-nine's, or "coalboxes." A sharp whistle blast, immediately followed by two short ones, rang out from the head of our column. This was to take up ! "artillery formation." We divided Into j small squads and went into the fields on the right and left of the road, and j crouched on the ground. No other j shells followed this salvo. It was our j first baptism oy snen nre. r rom me waist up I was all enthusiasm, but froip there down, everything was missing. I thought I should die with fright. After awhile, we reformed into columns of fours, and proceeded on our way. About five that night, we reached the ruined village of H , and I got my first sight of the awful destruction caused by German Kultur. Marching down the main street we came to the heart of the village, and took up quarters in shellproof cellars (shellproof until hit by a shell). Shells A Bomb Proof. were constantly whistling over the village and bursting in our rear, search- I ing for our artillery. These cellars were cold, damp and smelly, and overrun with large rats? big black fellows. Most of the Tommies slept with their overcoats over their faces. I did not. In the middle of the night I woke up in terror. The cold, clammy feet of a rat had passed over my face. I immediately smothered myself in my overcoat, but could not sleep for the rest of that night. Next evening, we took over our sector of the line. In single file we wended our way through a zigzag communication trench, six inches deep with mud. This trench was called "Whisky street." On our way up to the front line an occasional flare of bursting shrapnel would light up the sky and we could hear the fragments slapping the ground above us on our right and left. Then a Fritz would traverse back and'forth with his "typewriter" 6r machine gun. The bullets made a sharp cracking noise overhead. Tho hnv in front of me named Pren tlce crumpled up without a word. A piece of shell had gone through his shrapnel-proof helmet. I felt sick and weak. In about thirty minutes we reached the front line.. It was dark as pitch. Every now and then a German star shell would pierce the blackness out in front with its silvery light. I was trembling all over, and felt very lonely and afraid. All orders were given in whispers. The company we relieved filed past us and disappeared into the blackness of the communication trench leading to the rear. As they passed us, they whispered, "The best o' luck mates." I sat on the fire step of the trench with the test of the men. In each traverse two of the older men had been put on guard with their heads sticking over the top, and with their eyes tryJpg to pierce the blackness in?"No Man's Eand?T In this" trench there | .were only two dugouts, and these were j used by Lewis and Yickers machine j gunners, so it was the fire step for ours. Pretty soon it started to rain. We put on our "macks," but they were not much protection. The rain trickled down our backs, and it was not long before we were wet and cold. How I passed that night I will never know, but without any unusual occurrence, uu w u ai iivcu. The word "stand down" was passed along the line, and the sentries got down off the fire step. Pretty soon the rum issue came along, and it was a j Godsend. It warmed our chilled bodies and put new life into us. Then from the communication trenches came dixies or iron pots, filled with steaming tea, which had two wooden stakes through their handles, and were car-, ried by two men. I filled my canteen i and drank the hot tea without taking j it from my lips. It was not long be- i fore I was asleep in the mud on the , fire step. My ambition had been attained! I! was in a front-line trench on the west- j era front, and oh, how I wished I were j back in Jersey City. CHAPTER V. Mud, Rats and Shells. I must have slept for two or three hours, not the refreshing kind that results from clean sheets and soft pillows, but the sleep that comes from cold, wet and sheer exhaustion. Suddenly, the earth seemed to shake and a thunderclap burst in my ears. I! opened my eyes?I was splashed all over with sticky mud, and men were picking themselves up from the bottom of the trench. The parapet on my left had toppled into the trench, completely blocking it with a wall of tossed-up earth. The man on my left lay still. I rubbed the mud from my face, and an awful sight met my gaze?his head was smashed to a pulp, and his steel helmet was full of brains and blood. A German "Minnie" (trench mortar) had exploded in the next traverse. Men were digging into the soft mass of mud in a frenzy of haste. Stretcher-bearers came up the trench on the double. After a few minutes of digging, three still, muddy forms on stretchers were carried down the communication trench to the rear. Soon they would be resting "somewhere in France," with a little wooden cross over their heads. They had done their bit for king and country, had died without firing a shot, but their services were appreciated, nevertheless. , Later on, I found out their names.: They belonged to our draft. ; ' I was dazed and motionless. Suddenly a shovel was pushed into ray hands, and a rough but kindly voice said: ' { "Here, my lad, lend a hand clearing the trench, but keep your head down, and look out for snipers. One of the Fritz's is a daisy, and he'll get you if you're not careful." ! Lying on my belly on the bottom of the trench, I filled sandbags with the sticky mud, they Were dragged to my rear by the other men,, and the work of rebuilding the parapet was on. The : harder I worked, the better I felt Although the weather was cold, I was soaked with sweat. Occasionally a bullet would crack overhead, and a machine gun would kick up the mud on the bashed-in parapet. At each crack I would duck and shield my face with my arm. One of the older men noticed this action of mine, and whispered: "Don*t duck at the crack of a bullet, Yank; the danger has passed?you : never hear the one that wings you. Always remember that if you are going to get it, you'll get it, so never worry." j This made a great impression on me at the time, and from then on, I adopted his motto, "If you're going to get it, you'll get it." It helped me wonderfully. I used It so often afterwards that some of my mates dubbed me, "If you're going to get it, you'll get it." After an hour's hard work, all my nervousness left me, and I was laugh* ing and joking with the rest. At one o'clock, dinner came up In the form of a dixie of hot stew. I looked for my canteen. It had fallen off the fire step, and was half buried in the mud. The man on my left noticed this, and told the corporal, dishing out the rations, to put my share in his mess tin. Then he whispered to me, "Always take care of your mess tin, mate." I had learned another maxim of the trenches. That stew tasted fine. I was as hungry as a bear. We had "seconds," or another helping, because three of the men had "gone West," killed by the explosion of the German trench mortar, and we ate their share, but still I was hungry, so I filled in with bully beef and biscuits. Then I drained my water bottle. Later on I learned another maxim of the front line, "Go sparingly with your water." The bully beef made me thirsty, and by tea time I was dying for a drink, but my pride would not allow me to ask my mates for water. I was fast learning the ethics of the trenches. That night I was put on guard with an older man. We stood on the fire step with our hands over the top, peering out into No Man's Land. It was nervous worK ror me, out tne otner reilow seemed to take It as part of the night's routine. Then something shot past ray face. My heart stopped beating, and I ducked my head below the parapet. A soft chuckle from my mate brought me to' my senses, and I feebly asked, "For heaven's sake, what was that?" He answered. "Only a rat taking a promenade along the sandbags." I felt very sheepish. About every twenty minutes the sentrv In .the next traverse wpgld fire a star shell" from his flare pistol. The j "plop" would give int a start of fright, j I never got used to this noise during i my service in the trenches. I would watch the arc described by | the star shell, and then stare into No j Man's Land waiting for it to burst. In j its lurid light the barbed wire and j stakes would be silhouetted against its ] light like a latticed window. Then ! darkness. Once, out in front of our wire, 11 heard a noise and saw dark forms j moving. My rifle was lying across the ! sandbagged parapet. I reached for it, I and was taking aim to fire, when my mate grasped my arm, and whispered. "Don't fire." He challenged in a low voice. The reply came back instantly from the dark forms: "Shut milr* hHnlHn' mnnth trnn I J vv?* vmuiu lUVUbAi) J vu bloomin' idiot; do you want us to click it from the Boches?" Later we learned that the word, "No challenging or firing, wiring party out in front," had been given to the sentry on our right, but he had failed to pass It down the trench. An officer had overheard our challenge and the reply, and immediately put the offending sentry under arrest. The sentry clicked twenty-one days on the wheel, that Is. he received twenty-one days' field punishment No. 1, or "crucifixion," as Tommy terms it. This consists of being spread-eagled on the wheel of a limber two hours a day for twenty-one days, regardless of the weather. During this period, your rations consist of bully beef, biscuits and water. | A few months later I met this sentry and he confided to me that since being "crucified," he had never failed to pass the word down the trench when so ordered. In view of the offense, the above punishment was very light, in that failing to pass the word doirn a trench may mean the loss of many lives, and the spoiling of some important enterprise in No Man's Land. (To be continued next week.) THE HEN THAT LAYS is the hen that pays. If she does not lay, kill her, but before you kill her give her B. A. Thomas' Poultry Remedy twice a day for a week, and then you will not kill her for she will b6 paying you a profit. 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