The Bridgeport evening farmer., 1916-08-05

out orders, and so they detail one of thelr number in each bay to watch the cylinders while the rest gather behind the traverse, as being a slight ly safer spot.
 When day breaks a fair wind is blowing, straight towards the Ger man trenches. But, of course, it is now broad daylight, and the gas will be visible as soon as it leaves the pipes. The gasmen know what to expect. They know that as soon as the greenish-gray clouds appear out side their parapet there will be run ming messengers and hurried tele- phoning in the German .lines. They know that within a few minutes the word will have reached the German big guns at the back, and that every piece capable of flattening out a par apet and burying them, mangled and broken, among their own cylinders will be concentrated upon the front line trench in which they stand.
 Time! Over the top the jet-pipes are flung, and then, simultaneously along almost two miles of trench, there arises a sibilant hiss, as of some monstrous and venomous snake sud- denly aroused from slumber. Now the gasmen are working frantically with wheel and spanner and key. and the hiss increases in shrillness and volume. Outside the parapet the green poison fog is already spreading like foul blanket over No-Man's land. Carried ceaselessly forward it's outer edge is rapidly approaching th1 i,,fo -L,; ;ol, will presently sink, spreading agony and death among those who cannot escape.
 ''No rifle or machine gun fire has been ordered this time, and from either line scarcely a sound is heard except the deadly hiss of the escap- ing fumes. The minutes pass in tense, ominous quiet. Nature herself seems to pause aghast to watch this latest deviltry practised by her chil- dren upon one another.
 Behind their masks the gasmen begin to breathe more freely. and then suddenly, on the left, 'CrashH And crash again and yet again. This time on the right. somewhere close at hand. The men crouch lower over their cylinders; the explosions follow one another almost too "a pidly to count, and in any case their minds are no longer fitted to count-or care. Only the valves must be turn ed, and the pipes must be watched. and the sudden spurt of vapor which marks a leak must be checked by the application of a handful of mud, which the gas itself immediately free l~<@ I,o ble mass, ;,
 "In one of the bays, the parapet rocks suddenly and falls forward. burying the men and their cylinders. Almost immediately the men scram- ble out unhurt: but the pipes are bro- ken. and the gas Is filling the trench. With spanner and mud the thing is stopped, new connections are rigged up, and the death vapor is again di- rected outside what is left of the trench. But one of the men has had the mouthpiece of his respirator bro- ken, and already he Is coughing and choking painfully. I've got it!' he gasps hoarsely, and goes behind the traverse to such an ammonia ampule and die slowly.
 "Closing-up time! Rapidly the valves are shut down, the jet pipes withdrawn and plugged and stacked away. Feverishly the men work at bagging up their cylinders again. Im- perturbably a sergeant stalks down the ruined and battered trench, shep- herding his flock towards their dug out. He is an old-timer-a transfer from the infantry-and he scarcely quivers as a shell bursts behind a