The daily Gate City. [volume] (Keokuk, Iowa) 1855-1916, 1916-01-16
Letters ReceiUed Here
From, Trenches il, Belgium

mas Just brought me letter for
me to censor. He is not very
literary man, but is a true Irish
man for he says, 1T would disap-
point me terrible to get killed
without seeing you once more
He is writing to one of his be-
loved, Of course.
was up to the trenches yester-
day-lIn fact, had lunch up
there-mnlligan, tomatoes, aspar-
agus and fried cheese. Some
lunch!
The bombardment is commenc-
Ing once more. And here we sit,
listening to the dulcit strains of
z Tales of Hoffman on the gramo-
phone, while the pup and kitten,
SHIPPER and Betty by name, be
peacefully at rest, as if nothing
were going on.
There was quite an aeroplane
bombardment above us this
morning. There were about sew
en- OF our planes lowering around.
Then the Germans started to
shoot at them. 1t is wonderful
how they escape some times.
One of them seems to be COM
shells. But he ducked and curved
and twisted and rose again. went
around in circles, rose higher
and higher and then suddenly
shot down to lower level and
sailed away as calm as you please
with few shells bursting spite
fully away behind him. It is very
pretty and very exciting.
The trenches are getting some
what better, though they are still
much exposed. But you can go
along without disappearing in the
mud, and that is something
Description Of Funeral.
Following is an extract from let
ter dated Sunday, November 25, 1915,
and written 500 yards back of the
line, telling OF a funeral in the fight
ing zone:
Today has been very quiet and
the afternoon rather sad. it is
cold and sharp like a Canadian
winter afternoon. We had funer-
al today of our first officer, killed,
and seven men, they all got it.
The Roman priest over one grave
| and our padre, Capt. Kidd (and
4 he's some kid, !too) took the other
seven one service for all. The
bodies are all taken to the dress
ing station where Ken is, and
here they are wrapped in blan-
ket and as the cemetery Is one
quarter OF mile from the dress
ing station, there is a track of
wooden rails on which trucks are
run. A truck for. each body made
weird procession, four pals OF
each man pushing the truck. A
bottle by the side Of each body
with a record in it is buried also.
Landscape and Soldiers.
The following extract comes from
Somewhere in Belgium" and is dated
the twelfth Of last month This gives
scape. soldiers and their habits and
daily life:
had no casualties In my
company in the last four or five
days, and naturally I was greatly
relieved.
The trees are bare now and we
have some weird sunsets. The
evenings close in early and the
nights are Very black. In France
I and Belgium, in the rural parts,
the trees are very tall and the
branches in clusters at the top
and are planted in rows. The
country round about here Is gen.
orally fiat, few small hills on
which as rule are the quaint
old wooden windmills-yery queer
mechanical contrivances they are,
but the country Is dotted with
them and they are mostly work
ing OF course everywhere for
miles around wherever I have
happened to be, one sees military
activity. If it isn't infantry, it's
artillery or engineers or army
service corps-long trains of
transport horses. mules, automo-
biles, Red Cross cars. London
buses coming and going all the
time, brigades moving from one
part of the line to another. You
can generally tell at glance
whether they are line regiments
or Kitchener's army or new bat
talions just come over. Here you
will see a battalion out for rest,
team Of men hard at play
football in the mud with driz-
zling rain or if you had come
round this afternoon, you would
have seen my boys at tug-of-war,
platoon pftted against platoon,
N. Co.'s against N. Co. s--a hot
bean supper held UP in view of
the winners. ] provide same
when we go to the trenches, and
after the tug Of war was over,
games which made everybody
laugh and kept them warm. An
other group pouring boiling water
through their rifles to clean them.
A few yards away some peasants
gathering turnips in the fields
A regiment of Gordon Highlanders
going by on the road, their bare
knees showing red under their
kits. their pipe band bravely
playing them along their weary
way. Our battalion bombers a
few fields away, throwing live
bombs in training trenches. get