The Bamberg herald. [volume] (Bamberg, S.C.) 1891-1972, 1917-10-11
The Machine Gunner.

Ihe MaCn1n6 Gunner.
He said that his name was
Brown and nobody believed him.
But his mates never said to
his face that he was not telling the
truth.
In fact the men of the machine gun
team were afraid of him. He was a
queer customer. In appearance he
was an old man, bald and wrinkled,
one of those who could go up to a
recruiting office and say, MY age
is not forty one. Having no ccrtifi-
cate of my birth you must take my
word for it. may look old but one S
years can never be judged by wrink-
les. Some people never grow old and
I am one of them" But as Brown
was a very modest man he, of course,
never spoke like that.
He was born in London; the only
time he ever left there was when he
came to France. So he said, but
again none believed this. He knew
quite smattering of languages; he
spoke German and French, also
Spanish. The latter he spoke as it
is spoken in South America. So
Browns officer said; and this officer
had travelled about in most places of
the world. On occasion the lbat-
talon to which the man was attached
relieved a Canadian regiment and
some of the English soldiers entered
into conversation with the men who
were going out. Brown was heard
speaking to one Of them and asking
questions about a lumber camp
situated somewhere near the foot of
the Rockies.
"You know that place then?" an
officer said to Brown afterwards.
"Yes, sir" Brown replied. L read
about it in the papers" >"
He rolled cigarettes with cunning
hand and he chewed tobacco as if
to the manner born. He was splen-
did soldier, higly intelligent and in
a still corner one of the best mates
man could have. In fact he was
greatly respected, although he made
very few comrades. He feared neither
God nor man and was never so happy
as when under fire. In the midst of
the most violent connonade he was
calm and unperturbed. Nothing was
too arduous for him; there was no
thing that he would not attempt.
The unknown and hazardous always
fascinated him, and when fighting
his face always gave his mates the
impression that he had become a
soldier merely for the fixed purpose
of killing. He was in the machine
gun team, and loved his weapon,
probably because the machine gun is
one of the most effective death-deal-
ing instruments of war.
A few days ago, in the ebb and flow
of the fighting around Guemappe, his
party found themselves in an isolated
post and all but surrounded by the
enemy. One man fell and then an
other, and finally nobody was left
save Brown and his officer.
We've got to stick it, said the
officer. Its damned stiff, but all the
Same!'
Brown shrugged his shoulders and
let the machine gun rip. He had no
cover and seemed to be quite lndlt-
ferent to danger. He was in his
proper element and found the sltua-
ton quite to his liking. Suddenly
the officer gave strangled cry and
dropped to earth.
Brown fixed a fresh cartridge belt
to his weapon and turned his gun half
right on the Germans, who were at
tempting an incircling mrvement.
One of Browns mates was lying on
the ground, wounded and conscious.
1.-The officer told you to retire, ne
said, looking up at the old man. Did
you not hear that?'
81 didn't hear it, Brown replied,
his voice rising above the clatter OF
the gun.
When the Scotch charged across
the machine gun emplacement ten
minutes later they found Brown still
at his work, a wound in his right
shoulder and his left foot badly shat
tered. When the stretcher bearers
came they carried him back to the
dressing station. There he spoke to
his officer, who had also been carried
in.
"You were still at your post when
the Scotch came along, 1 hear said
the officer, with smile. But what
about the order l gave you to re-
tire?"
II didn't hear it, SIR said Brown.