Norwich bulletin., 1915-04-30

ration of fortnight, and that Is where his narrative begins: Here's where P1anuue died; I find him about 10 days after. I'm wounded too. like him have to creep along on my hands and knees to get away from the bullets. ! take PlanQue's note book to give with news of him to his family. I keep the book to mark my address. Louis Vanderbergh, 7 rue Mirabeau, Fives-Ltlle, and l engage on my honor that if I'm living after the war, to carry it to his family with news of him I'm wounded in the neck; I have three bullets in my right leg that make me suffer altogether too much; but it's | the left leg that's the worst hit; the ankles crushed too much. It takes al most superhuman courage to find something to eat in the gardens where I've been since the 18th of October, when I was wounded: it's at least Is days since, and not yet stretcher | bearer or a nurse. I rather think I they'll find me alongside Planque. Just | the same, they might search better for l the wounded.
 If I die from my sufferings 'vive Ia France.'
 T have searched Planque's pockets I to find me @ knife to cut my boot and
 look after my leg, but didn't find any l thing but the notebook and a watch | T ! it is. If I get out of this, I'll give I back his things. One of my hands Is paralyzed, and that flinders me a good l deal to get away; the war ought to finish now in two or three days. and l then they get to searching for the 1 wounded.
 'I pray every day for Planque and for me; let the good Lord hear me l and let Him save me for my mother
 and for my wife. I don't know how | m nI hxru fho1 r, | of October, but I think it must be at
 least the 30th. The first days I found l biscuits to eat in haversacks left by 1 the boys that fell. but now I'm living with the mice; haven't got the force
 to drag myself along as during the
 first days, my ankle hurts me too much. Until tomorrow.
 Yesterday couldn't write, I was
 too sick. Today I found little knife
 and I've just cut my boot. I've looked frishtfu1. but I've managed to fix it with a handkerchief: I'm going to fix up the other leg, too, and tonight, if I can, I'll try to fly the camp. If only
 had a bite to eat I'm pretty well fixed on the straw under shelter; the worst | of it is that I don't know which way to turn; don't know where the French are and may run into the Germans; as for me, rather think I must pass for dead; if only had the good luck to get out
 ''Now it's rheumatism. I hear all the time the German flying machines sailing overhead: I wonder why they
 can't bring them down; they do lots
 of harm It's half-past II by Plan que's watch. Poor Planque! I'm go- ing to eat a cabbage that I've left and
 another for tonight before breaking camp. If I only had some bread. what
 a feast! A prayer for me ane one for Planque and I break my fast. Until tomorrow.
 Yesterday couldn't write neither;
 crept several hours during the night looking for the French, but I had to hide; they fired on me every minute. IT took to an old trench-.German I thfnk-and they must have seen me for they did nothing but fire at me all day; they even spent a. few big shells on me, but these must have come
 from the French firing without know ing who I was; I couldn't let them
 know. l found a knapsack dropped by some poor French soldier; there were
 some biscuits in it: he'll never want
 them again so it's so much gained for
 me: found two boxes of preserves,
 too. Whats more I found a change of linen; not at all bad find. I was far
 from clean. Very little hope of es-
 caping, but I don't despair by grace of
 God.
 "Today bullets and shells are fall
 ing thick, and fast around me, but I'm
 well hid. Oh, that this war might end quickly. Vive la France! and an early
 meeting-perhaps. Louis Wander
 bergh. Until tomorrow, in case the
 worst don't happen.
 '-The tomorrow has arrived, and
 what a happy day for me; I had bad night, but this morning I hear voices: IT decide to take a look-to die or to } escape-a compatriot sees me and
 comes to get me across the canal Here's the name Of my saviour! It mustn't be forgot: it is Guyot Ray
 mond, postman at Fleury-sur-A -Andelies (Eure).
 Here I am again in the trenches by my comrades; tonight they'll take me back of the lines to a hospital; I'm still frightfully shaky. Some of the boys have fixed up my wounds while
 waiting something better: now I've had
 a drink of miik-pure milk-and lit of bread this afternoon. It'll go bet
 ter soon. and the stomach'il stop cry ing famine
 ]. "I just haven't got much luck, that's all: I thought would get away in the night to be looked after; but here I'm
 held up again; the Germans just come to make a terrible night attack, and tI'm still in the trenches.
 Still in the trenches today, alone but endorsements are coming; the
 struggle goes on again, fercer than , ever: those that saved me have had to abandon me again; they are going
 away without me, but the nurses of the One Hundred and Forty eighth
 come along and deliver me from my sufferings.
 "At the time I'm writing, my wounds have been dressed, I've eaten a sand witch, smoked a good cigarette from the surgeons box, and I'm coming back tc i, life 2,