Pine Bluff daily graphic., 1917-12-26
CARRYING WATER
 ID SOLDIERS IN
 LINE HAZARDOUS
Former Member of Parlia- ment Describes Work on
 Battle Front.
Correspondence of The Associated
 'PreSS)

l PreSS.)
 London, Dec. 1O.-Carrying water to the thirsty fighting men in the front | line trenches through double bar rage of bursting shells from both Brit ish and German guns, while the multi colorcd flares from the German trenches cast weird light over a shell-riven battlefield puts to test the nerve and courage of the bravest. Yet the work must be done while the bat tie is in progress.
 Stumbling over the bodies of dead comrades or falling exhausted among them; floundering through the mud or into shell craters, the water-carrying yet must struggle on till he reaches the first line. unless death relieves him of the task. A vivid story of one such journey is told by Victor Gray son, formerly member of the British Parliament, now serving as a private in the British army.
 T found myself one of party de- tailed to carry up rations to the front line trenches through dual barrage, ' 1 he writes. We all knew that the ! boys up the line were to hop over at 1 daybreak the following morning, but we were not aware until our sergeant major told us, that they had been with out ratinos for 12 hours.
 ':As much a)s the mud would permit, our pace was speeded up, and we were soon in line upon the duck4boards (board walks laid in mud), myself and my immediate companions, each 1 laden with two petrol tins of water. 1 "The front line was about two miles away. For the first part of the jour- ney bright moon made the travelling comparatively easy. But suddenly the duck-boards ended, the moon conn pletely disappeared, and the resulting darkness acted like a signal to the opposing batteries. The air was torn with the -howls and shrieks of shells.
 Walking Over Dead.
 "It became matter of infinite care and considerable skill to pick our way between the deep shell holes, which were sometimes so close together as 1 to be divided only by sloping ridge i of less than a foot in width. The en- emy was firing wild and shells were exploding on all sides with a prOpin- quity that made us involuntarily duck our heads and wait for the inevitable l shower of dirt and mud. or worse Every now and then a man would lose l his footing, and he and his cans would roll with splash into a gaping shell hole.
 "It seems inconceivable, even ir- ! reverent, that one should laugh in the midst of such horrors. But when saw my pal in front dart away from a. menacing shellburst on the right straight into the arms, so to speak of a muddy shell-hole on the left, laughed till a stitch came into my side.
 trenches, halt was called-not a mo- ment too soon-for a rest. My water cans had become amazingly heavy and all of us were panting as WI crouched beside our comrades who were waiting in the support trench, il reserve. I had recently suffered from cold, and heartily wished that my journey might soon end. After five minutes we started out again, and the sergeant major set pace that I knew I could not sustain. Gradually I felt myself falling behind, and every fresh effort to catch up with my party only served to increase my exhaustion and limit my breath. At last, with a feeling of utter desolation, l fell be side my cans. The flares revealed to me that l should soon lose contact with my hurrying comrades. and the mad music of the hurtling shells stim- ulated me to fresh effort.
 Fer couple of hundred yards struggled forward, but, weak and bereft of wind, went down once more and watched, with sort of guilty desperation, the rear file of my party disappear over ridge between two lonely shell-stricken alone. It was not altogether alone. The fitful glares lighted up for me the unmistakable faces and forms of the dead, com rades who had fallen on their way to the front line.
 Protecting the Cans.
 "A great weariness seized me, and in spite of the noise and uncanny sur roundings l could have gone to sleep. A chagrined dread of failing in my task nerved me, however, to final effort. l found my way through the stark sentinel trees, and though wan dering blindly, with no further sense of direction, finally heard voices, British voices, and was soon looking down into communication trench
 "'Get down quick, digger cried an officer. Never mind your cans.'
 But those cans had become preci- ous part of myself, and gripping them affectionately I slithered into the trench and comparative safety. The experience had been thrilling and un- forgettable, but there was water for 16 men. And the sight of the boys eagerly filling their water bottles made everything wonderfully worth while.
 My comrades of the ration party had duly delivered their burdens and