The Bridgeport evening farmer., 1914-12-22
COLD AND DAMP ARE FEARED AT
 BELGIAN FRONT I
Soldiers in Trenches Become Used to Bullets, But Can't
 Fight Elements.

London, Dec. 22-Miseries of life in the trenches are vivid1y pictured in a story written by an English soldier who is on the Belgian frontier. He
 enlisted as private but later was
 raised to an officer. Thus he has had
 an opportunity to see the war from different angles His story follows: It isn't the danger that affects one
 in the trenches, but the hardsh1ps
 of cold and damp Bullets from snip Hers-the Germans have lots of these,
 out night and day-whizz about your
 ears continually, and occasionally
 shrapneI makes one tuck one's head
 down, but one gets so used to the fir
 ing that-although it may sound in-
 credible-it soon becomes far less mo-,
 ticeable than city traffic, for 1n-
 stance.
 At night sometimes an outburst of
 artillery or a wild rattle of musketry
 at an imaginary night attack Wakens
 one stiff, sore, frozen and full of strong language from dtful dreams, which mainly concern themselves with steak buildings and huge fires at home.
 The cold is really horrible. One never ceases .shivering. At night the so1es of ones boots freeze, and one is awakened by icy feet. and forced to get up and stamp till the blood con sents to circulate once more. Day. light brings some respite but the whole time one is forced to muff1e to the eyes and such things as Ball. aciava helmets, thick gloves, comfort CTS, cardigAns and woody watstcoats cannot be too numerous can scarcely button my coat over my numerous raiment and still I perish.
 Washing and shaving are practi- scally impossible. Officers and men leave the. trenches like miners com ing up from a pit but somehow that does not worry us. The idea of wash ing in such cold is too awful for it is impossible to restore the circu1a- ton by exercise in a marrow crowded trench and in the sdug-outs there is just room to lie down. They are now beginning to serve out coal and coke
 just in time. There would have been wholesale frostbite otherwise.
 The water in the machine guns freezes and they have to be nJrsed back to action in front of fires. Rifles get frost-bittens and sometimes are ruptured by the sudden shock conse- quent of being fired. This is rather welcome, however, for the wood from a derelict rifle burns kbeautifully.
 The water bottles freeze, too, and have to be thawed out Water is 8 nuisance. It has to be fetched by night by fatigue parties from farms process which takes sometimes two or three hours.
 It is extraordinaryh how ingenious the men are in contriving things for their comfort. They cut little. fire. places in the side of the trench, line and top them neatly with cl1i1nneys made of buIly-beef tins. They build elaborate rifle racks and make them selves snug cubbyhoIes to sleep sin, roofing them with material from nearby ruined farmhouses, piled over with earth
 The food is plentiful and good The crying. need is for milk and fruit. Plenty of tobacco and cigarettes are to be had. There is a dearth of things to read, and it is considered rank treason to light a. fire with a piece of newspaper. -s :. ~t
 The trenches stretch in a practi- caIly unbrolen line from the sea to the east frontier, not in groups of isolated rifle pits, but in what are really series of small towns linked to- gether by narrow communicating trenches, each battalion occupying its . own little town, which may be any thing from half a mile to two miles long. and hundred yards or so deep.
 From behind the firing trenches there is a wild labyrinth of intersect- ing communicating trenches, support trenches, dug-outs for staff and of ficers. kitchens, and so forth, though Of course some are more elaborate than others.
 It takes about an hour and a half to go from sone end of our present battalion position to the other. Last week the trouble was mud, wet, vis- cid mud, four or five inches deep. that squelched round oneis boot tops and got plastered over everything up 1 to one's hat My boots weighed tons | This week the frost has laid the mud | and the cold is our enemy
 We spend a few days in the trench es and then a few days, in reserve l m the villages in the rear. The re- | leV1ng, of course, has to be done at | night. It is a serious job. You march | along as noiselessly as possible to | within half mile of the rear, where | you are met by a guide and taken | n single file through an interminable | winding communication trench, full | of roots and mud. never more than | ,hree feet wide at the top and about | Aghteen inches at the bottom. Then II a sort of Picadilly Circus in the ear of the fighting, line, the compa- 11es branch to their various posts tnd are shepherded in until each man T the relieving force stands behind mother of that to be relieved The waiting is dreadful business. sIt sell iom takes less than three to five tours to effect the complete change. Everything is dead still except for an 'ccaslonal bang-bang to show you the n1pers are awake. No one pays the hghtest attention to them
 The men exchange p1easantries in loarse whispers and the officers ex- hange news and explain the special joints Of the position. Finally, when he last man has been placed, the or Ter to change places is passed down. ne new men step up onto the little ring platforms and the relieved men tep down into the trench and file out lIenty- into the night Then all trough the night half the men and ff1cers are on guard, while half rest 5y day there are only sentries here nd there along the line.
 A pathetic sight in the rear of all