The Birmingham age-herald. [volume] (Birmingham, Ala.) 1902-1950, 1915-12-26


geons, more ammunition We saw, al
ways by the shifting, pointing finger
of the electric torch. sleeping quarters
underground, dressing stations for
the wounded underground In inches
at every turn We're gas extinguishers.
They were as many, as much a matter
of course, as fire eXtingushers in a
modern hotel They We're exactly lik e
those machines advertised in seed cata-
logs for spraying fruit trees. They
are worn on the back like knapsack
Through a short rubber hose a fluid
attacks and dissipates the poison gases
The sun set, and we proceeded in the
light of a full moon. 1t needed only
this to give to our journey the un-
reality of a nightmare. Long since
had lost all sense of direction 1t was
not only a maze and labyrinth, but it
held to no level At times, concealed
by walls of chalk, we walked erect,
and then, like woodchucks, dived into
earthen burrows. For long distance
we crawled bending double through a
tunnel At intervals lamps as yet I'M
lit, protruded from either side and to
warn us of these from the darkness a
voice would call: Attention a gauche, -
Attention a droite." The air grew
foul and the pressure on the ear drums
like that OF the subway under the
North river. We came out and drew
deep breaths as though we had been
long under water.
IN FIRST TRENCH
We We're in the first trench. 1t was,
at places, from 800 to 40 yards distant
from the Germans. No one spoke, or
only in whispers. The moonlight turned
the men at arms into ghosts. Their
silence added to their unreality I felt
like Rip Van Wrinkle hemmed in by
the goblin crew of Henrik Hudson.
From somewhere near us, above or be-
low, to the right or left the Seventy
fives." as though aroused by the moon
began like terriers to bark viciously.
The officers in the steel casque paused
to listen, fixed their position, and
named them. How he knew where they
were. how he knew where he was him.
SELF was all part of the mystery. Rats,
jet black in the moonlight. scurried
across the open places, scrambled over
our feet. ran boldly between them, We
scared them, perhaps, but not half so
badly as they scared me.
We pushed on past sentinelS, motion
less, silent, fatefully awake. The
moonlight had turned their blue uni
forms white. and flashed on their steel
helmets They were like men in ar
NOR and so still that only when you
brushed against them, cautiously, as
men change places In a canoe did you
feel they were alive. At times, one
of them thinking something in the
gardens of barb wire had moved. would
loosen his rifle, and there would be a
flame and flare of red. and then again
silence, the silence of the hunter stalk
ing wild beast. of the officer of the
law, gun in hand, waiting for the
breathing Of the burglar to betray his
presence.
The next morning l called to make
my compliments to the general. He
was n splendid person. AS alert as
steel lance. He demanded what had
seen.
"Nothingi" he protested. You have
seen nothing When you return from
Servia. come to Champagne again. and
7. myself. will show you something
of interest"
I am curious to see what he calls
something of interest"
"T wonder what's happening in Buff
falo."
Copyright, 1915. by Richard Harding
Davis).