* ^ 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.)
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Enlistments in the regular army
since April 1, 1917, have been more
than 379,000. 1
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