The Washington herald. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1906-1939, 1916-04-10

to that grim land where the picked men
of the two nations are fighting for
liberty.
1--WE are now In the danger zone. and
suddenly there is distant rumble, q
whizz, binding flash, and a shell
bursts, not five yards away and aimed
for the road. A gasp OF relief goes up
from the chaps near the spot, and once
again the column moves on.
when we get within rifle range,
, there's a sudden Ping PingP and two
bullets sing past our ears to find billet
in the trunk OF tree. few yards
farther, and a halt Is called. The order
passes to lie down and form a single
file.
Next, 'Risep comes the order, and we
enter the communication trench. Such a
river Of mudl Up to the knees We slosh-
slop, slop and splash!
AT last we reach our own trench, and
find the regiment holding the line al
| ready dressed, patiently awaiting the ex-
pected relief. Poor chaps, they are pale
| with the long strain, and one or two
are bandased, yet refusing to leave I'M
| I'll We come! Silently they file out, We
take their places and the long night now
begins Its tedlum Is broken by the rush
OF German hand grenade, the occa-
sional whiz OF bullets, or the crash of
No .Man's-Land!. Ones nerves are taut
| to leap at every sound.
The moon rises and lights on dreary
rows OF sandbags and bsrbed-wire en-
| tanglements. Look! What Is that?
Something that moves stealthily! No,
it's only corpse in the moonlight,
caught and swaying on the cruel wire OF
No Man s-Land.
when blessed dawn comes in we
breathe relief, and from out OF our packs
bring forth small piece OF wood. a
spoonful Of tea and sugar and piece
| OF bacon. Breakfast is prepared.
suddenly there's q cry of pain and
word is passed down for the stretcher
bearer. Who's hitr we ask. And Is he
hit bad?' Where is he hit?
But minds are set at rest when the
| cause of the excitement himself comes
down the trench with his arm in a sling,
and actually laughing through his pain.
'Quack, quack,' he says, as he splashes
through the mud and steps into the COM
munication trench bound for the dress
ing station, ri soon be back again.
boys.
Thus the time goes by until real fight
ing commences, or until such period as
we are relieved"
| thrilling tale of the lighting In CALI
poll centers around the young V. C. Pri-
vate Potts, Of the Berkshire Yeomanry
|
4 hero. Although severely wounded in the
thigh, he could have crawled back to
/ safety, but refused to leave another
] wounded comrade. For two terrible
nights and days the brave boy-Private
Potts is only 22-stuck to his friend I'M
der constant stream Of Turkish fire
and finally succeeded in saving his life.
1t was a burning day. and the relent-
| less sun blazed down on the body of
yeomanry slowly scaling Hill 20. Laden
with ammunition and trenching tools
| the climb was difficult, but when the
summit was reached. the boys plunged
| forward in a magnificent charge. Before
them lay a burning lake through which
British divisions were dashing. s...-
The Turkish guns swept the divisions
-, in sea OF fire. and men were falling by
the hundred everywhere. On. on, across
that burning lake and up up to the sum-
init of another cruel hill. A whr of
shrapncl, a crash, and Private Potts.
hurled high in the air, fell back in a
patch Of shrub and underground bleed
ing profusely from his thigh. Merciful
oblivion fell on him and he remembered
! no more
and thirst, with the thunder of a thou
sand flying feet in his ears. Divisions
at charge swept by him as he lay there
helpless and half hidden in the BUSH
and he saw his comrades rush past in
a wild retreat Yes, he was left to soil
tude-and a great silence.
After q time young Potts had queer
sensation that he was not alone. There
still was silence all around, and nothing
stirring anywhere. But something told
him he was being watched A pair OF
! bloodshot eyes cleaned from behind a
bush and a chastity bloodless face was
suddenly thrust into his own!
| Potts started back in horror. What
was this? The face seemed to bear
us that you, Andrews2" he muttered in
a faint, horror-stricken whisper.
| Yes, I'm Andrews of the Berkshires,"
said sepulchral voice. and, creeping
closer, the man fell back apparently in
death
Silence on the desolate hillside, and
| Private Potts was dreaming OF home and
OF cool places where there was water
to drink. Water. blessed water! An
other rustic in the bushes. Suddenly
| the shrub parted, and another wounded
comrade crawled up. Thought I might
as well have company" gasped the poor
fellow, and then cola psed.
| Quickly Potts dragged him into shell
\ ter as the swish" OF bullets broke out
around them Alas! The newcomer bsd
barely been FIVE minutes with his friends
when flying bullet ended his suffer.
ings.
The blazing day wore on. Wen try
to crawl away at nightfall," said Pri-
vate Potts valiantly. But Turkish
sniper had seen them as they lay ana
! peppered the bush with bullets. Add.
| tional wounds came to them, and the
| moon. rising high In the heavens, made
escape dangerous. They were almost
under the first line Turkish trenches,
| too.
You can escape-leave me here" urged
Andrews to his friend. But young Potts
was firm. we go together or not At
| ALL" he said
After a blazing day, the night was
appallinsly cold. Biting frost ate into
their wounds, and pangs of hunger and
renewed thirst assailed them. Day dawn
ed on terrible battle between the Turks
on the crest Of the hill and the British
lower down.
As the weary hours dragged by. the
| suferings of the two wounded men were
intense. Yet Potts never ceased to re-
assure his comrade, and when night re-
] turned he helped him to crawl down
the slope, while Turkish snipers shower
ed bullets round them. But the effort
was too great for poor Andrews. who
collapsed. bleeding freely from his form
er wounds
Potts, though his own wound was