The Hartford republican. (Hartford, Ky.) 18??-1926, 1917-06-29
LIFE IN TRENCHES
BEFORE AN ATTACK
GRAVITY, HUNGER-sICK FEELING
AS YOU WAIT THRU MINUTES
THAT ARE DAYS.


have the combined sensations of wait.
ing in the attic to be whipped, wat
ch'n g the girl you're in love with go
of with another fellow. and standing
in the dock while the jury decides
your fate?
II you have, you know what Il IS
20 be in the trenches, waiting for
charge.
The sensations mentioned are lie.
scrlDed by Canadian sergean. IN
one OF the Overseas Battalions, writ.
ing to a London paper. He says:
Gravity Feeling.
There's a crawly, goosey, hunger
sick, maggoty feeling in the stomach
Of you; a save-the-women-and child
remand Godhelp-me grip at the
heart. The raw of breaking down
clutches and numbs the brain like
the icy hand of the Grim Angel.
Have you ever been three hours
alone in an attic waiting for your
| father to come home and give you the
licking of your life? Did you ever |
see the only girl you could ever love |
going to the theater with another |
fellow? Did you ever sit Cor is it |
stand) in the dock dumbly waiting |
for the jury to say whether you did |
or you didn't? Eth? Well, just roll
these delightful sensations all into |
one, plaster a few shovelfuls of |
sticky, clammy mud around your
legs and hands (not forgetting to
save little for your rifie.)
Then Dash OF Ice.
Then finish off neatly with a dash |
of ice and sleet from the North Pole.
and roll into an Assembly trench"
in front of your own front line in
No Mans Land. This is probably
the feeling you will have while wait
ing "to go over"
A few centuries pass. You notice
such trivial things as that your put
tees are getting frayed. All, well!
all the easier to get new pair when
you go on leave. Leave? God save
you. You poor, miserable microbe,
you're just awaiting your execution.
Ages Roll BY.
Ages roll by. Some blasted fool
is trying to smile-the same CHASTITY
contortion of the facial muscles you
would expect when caught by ply
sically fit and anti-prohibition coal
HEAVIER in the arms of his wife.
More gloom, more wintry blasts,
more deeper depths"
Swish, swish, swish. Rapidly, say
in half a second.
"There she goes" whispers an old
hand in your ear. "She's opened
up"
In No Mans Land.
Some one from somewhere makes
a sign, and in about second you are
actually lover the top" in No Mans
Land. face set toward-well what
ever it happens to be. You are sur
prised to find that your blood still
circulates, that you can leap, crawl,
stagger onward-forward. And in
what seems to be a minute of time
you are close up to "his" front line.
You are glad he's putting up scrap.
You flop quickly into a shell hole and
peep cautiously over the top. You are
suddenly conscious that your COM
rades on your right and left are do
in the same. There is no need to
worry, tho, it is merely the gauging
of the stride for the last leap. Just A.,
a minute.
He Is GrinningH
You are conscious of some one by '
your side for the first time. Why is
he rolling his head around in that =
idotic manner, as tho overcome by
sleep? He is grinning. All! there G
is hole thru his neck. 1t is the s
grin of death. BY jove! It's Jimmy. 9
You are not shocked nor grieved-I r
just surprised. The shock and grief v
will come later. I
You find yourself moving again 7
Dr. sol. and that every one else is a
moving along the line. Also Fritz is r
moving, and that as fast as fear and !
he first law or nature will carry him. r
Then begins the big hunt. But that q
$ another story. a
The official reports will grandilo-
luently state that 1--WE advanced on r
/ front Of" etc. The special war !,
correspondent will submit that "Our a
BOYS magnificently stormed," But II !.
,ou want 1t i'm the vernacular of the \