Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1917-12-16
-. By Sergt. -,
Arthur Guy EmPey
THE UHLANS SCORE ONE ON WESTERN FRONT 4@$ e.

Quick. h'up against the parapet. ere
comes another"
Whiz-z-zi Bang-g-g.
Another flare. and once again was
thrown into the mud. l opened my
eyes. Bending over me. shaking me
by the shoulder. was Atwen. His voice
sounded faint and far away. Then
came to with rush
"Blime me. Yank, that was close
one. Did it get you?"
He helped me TO my feet and feit
myself all over. Seeing / was all right
he yelled into my ear:
We've got to leg IL out of ere. Fritz
is sure sendin' over whiz- bangs and
.Minnies.' Number platoon in the next
fire bay sure clicked IT. About eighteen
of them have gone west. Come on
we'll see IL we can do anything for the
poor blokes."
we piowed through the mud and
came into the next fire bay. In the
light of the bursting shells an awful
sight met our eyes. The traverses were
dashed in. the fire step was gone, and
In the parados was a hole that looked
like subway entrance. There was
mud and blood all around An officer OF
the royal army medical corps and sew
eraf stretcher bearers were working
like Trojans. We offered our aid, which
was gladly accepted.
Every now and then. ducking as
whiz-bang or Minnie came over, we
managed TO get four of the wounded on
the stretchers. and Atwell and ] car
ried one TO the rear to the first aid
dressing station. We passed the dugout
which l had left but a few minutes be-
fore. or. at least, what used TO be the
dugout. but now all that could be seen
was a caved-in mass of dirt; huge
square-cut tinlbers sticking out of the
ground and silhouetted against the ligh-
from bursting shells. looking like huge
giants. A shudder passed through me
as / realized that il we had stayed in
the dugout we would have now been
lying fifteen to twenty feet down. covered
by that caved-in earth and wreckage.
Atwell jerked his head in the direc-
ton of the smashed-in dugout and.
was his wont. remarked.
How about that fancy report YOU
were writing out a few minutes agoy
Didn't / tell you that it never paid to
make out reports in the front line.
It's best to wait until You get to head
quarters. because what's the use OF
wasting all that bally time when you're
liable to be buried in dugouts"
Turning my head to listen to Atweii.
j ran plump into turn in the trench.
A shout came from the form on the
stretcher.
why in the bloody ell don't you
blokes look where you're agoin? You'd
think this was a bloomin Picadilly bus.
and / was out with my best girl on q
Joy ride
! mumbled my apologies and the form
relapsed into silence. Then the muddy
Tommy on the stretcher began to mum
bic. Atwe1l asked him il he wanted
anything. With howl of rage. he an
swered:
of all the bloody nerve-do / want
anything-only a bloody pair a.
clutches. dish of fish and chips and a
glawss of stout
When we came 10 the first aid dress
ing station we turned our charge over
to some R A. NJ. c. men. and. iucking
and running through the communities
tion trench. we at last reached one Of
the roomy and safe elephant dugouts'
At last we were safe. Stumbling over
the feet of men. we came to an unoc-
cupied corner and sat down in the
straw. = Several candles were burning
! Grouped around these candles were =
. lot of TomInies. their faces pale and q
frightened look lin their eyes. Strange
to say. the conversation had nothing IL
do with themselves. They were SYM
pathizing with the poor fellows in the
: front line who were clicking it.
must have dropped of to sleep.
i, When i awoke it was morning and
after drinking our tea and eating our
bread and bacon AtwelI and / report
ed to brigade headquarters and were
, again detailed into the front Zine
trench.
Copyright, 1917, by the Mcclure Newspaper
Syndcatc.l