Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1917-12-16

N~ldE Engllsh lion was roaring, ana
his grow1s could be heard all
along the western front. No
doubt many a German general
was stirring uneasily in his large con-
crete shell-proof dugout, kilos behind
the German front line. as the ever-in-
creasing laundering roar reached his
ears.
We had a closeup view of his maj
esty, the king of beasts, and to US he
was sorry-looking specimen. Patches
of hide were worn away, while in his
tail were two big knots. If these knots
had have been labeled it would have
been easy to read "Neuve Chapelle" and
"Gallipoli." The memory and pain of
these two disasters no doubt increased
the intensity of his thunder.
The British bombardment of the Ger
man lines was on-a bombardment
which lasted over eight days and nights
1t was the forerunner of the big push,
or battle of the Somme.
Atwel and were sitting in a dug
out of the support trench. Atwell was
a great. big. lovable fellow. and was
my mate We both had been detailed
to the divisional intelligence depart
ment and were engaged upon spy
work"
CHEEKY disposition, occasionally re-
lapsed into fits of despondency-
In the light from a stump of a can
die 1 was making out Thy previous
days report to turn into brigade head
quarters. Occasionally the entrance to
the dugout would light up with red
fare as a shell burst in the near vicin-
fly. Atwell was sitting on his pack.
with his back leaning against the wet
and muddy wall of the dugout. The
rays from the candle lighted up his
face.
Finishing my report. got out a
flag" lighted it. and with an uneasy
feeling listened to the roar of the hell
outside. A long-drawn sigh caused me
to look in Atwelrs direction. Never in
my life have I seen such detected
and. woebeEone countenance. This. in
q way. ,angered me. because I. myself.
right then, had feeling of impending
disaster. a sort of unknown dread, per-
haps intermingled with far-away
longing for the fields and flowers at
home. I wanted to be cheered. and At
wells face looked like morgue.
the knee. and said:
Come out o. your trance. We've both
got a good chance for Blighty with
this bombardment on
Atwell looked in my direction, and in
n tone of voice which from him had
never heard before, answered:
"Y1nk. I've been out since IA. I've
buried many a mate and I've seen
many lucky bloke on a stretcher
bound for Blighty, and never gave it a
thought. but right now 1 feel as if my
stay in the trenches will be short. I've
had something on my mind since Sep
tembef. 1914. and it's been worrying me
mink. I'm soin' to tell you the story.
and I'll give you my oath that you're
the nrst one that's ever heard it from
my lips; but I've got to have your
promise that you'll not Judge me too
harshly. I've just got to get it out o.
my system"
Just them signing moan could be
heard overhead. 1t was one of our
"nine-point-two" shells aimed in the
direction Of Berlin. We both instinc-
lively turned our eyes toward the en-
trance of the dugout and waited for
the burst Nothing happened
Another -bloomin' dud,'' calculated
AtweH- "A few more hundred pounds
gone to seed" and then again the
gloomy look spread over his counte-
nance 1 was getting nervous and un-
easy. Trying to hide my fear, I said
Tor tn love O. Mike. AtweIl, crack a