Norwich bulletin., 1918-02-04
CHAPTER vIn-continued.

We had gotten half way through the communication trench, Pete in my in- mediate rear. He had his hand on my shoulder, as men in communication trench have to keep in touch with each other. We had just climbed over a bashed-in part of the trench when Tn our rear a man tripped over a loose signal wire, and let out an oath. AS usual, Pete rushed to. his help. To reach the fallen man, he had to cross this bashed-in part. A bullet cracked in the air and 1 ducked. Then a moan from the rear. My heart stood still. I went back and Pete was lying on the ground; by the aid of my fiashlight I saw his hand pressed to his right breast. The fingers were covered with blood. I flashed the light on his face. and in it's glow a grayish blue color was stealing over his counten- ance. Pete looked up at me and said: Well, Tank, they've done me in. can feel myself going West" His voice was getting fainter and I had to kneel down to get the words Then he gave me a message to write home to his mother and his sweetheart, and, like a great big boob, cried like a baby. 1 was losing my first friend of the trenches. ,'a
 Word was passed to the rear for a stretcher. He died before it arrived. Two of us put the body on the stretch CT and carried it to the nearest first aid post, where the doctor took an of flcial record of, Pete's name number, rank and regiment from his identity disk, this to be used in the casualty lists and notification to- his family.
 We left Pete there, but it broke our hearts to do so. The doctor informed us that we could bury him the next morning. That afternoon, five of the boys of our section, myself included, went to the little ruined village in the rear and from the deserted gardens of the French chateaux gathered grass and flowers. From these we made a wreath.
 While the boys were making this wreath, sat under 8 shot-scarred apple tree and carved out the follow ing verses on little wooden shield which we nailed on Pete's cross:
 True to his God; true to Britain, Doing his duty to the last, Just one more name to be written On the Roll of Honor of heroes passed
 Passed to their God enshrined in glory,
 Entering life of eternal rest.
 One more chapter in England's story Of her sons doing their best. Rest, you soldier, mate so true, Never forgotten by us below; Know that we are thinking of you, Ere to our rest we are bidden to go Next. morning the whole section 1 went over to say goodbye to Pete and laid him away to rest. After each one had a look at the face of the dead, a corporal of the R. A. M. c. sewed up the remains ir a blanket. Then placing two heavy ropes across the stretcher (to be used in lowering the body into the gravel we lifted Pete onto the stretcher, ani ! reverently covered him with large Union Jack, the flag he had died for The chaplain led the way. then came the officers of the section followed by l two of the men carrying a wreath | Immediately after came poor Pete aor the flag -draped stretcher, carried b. four soldiers. I was one of the four
 Behind the. stretcher, in columns O | fours came the remainder of the sec tion.
 To get to the cemetery, we had te pass through the little shell destroyed i village, where troops were hurryins l to and fro. .t M..r, | As the funeral procession passed i these troops came to the. attention, ! and smartly saluted the dead Poor Pete was receiving the onl. 1 salute a private is entitled to some
 where in France"
 Now and again a shell from tn,
 German lines would go whistling ove the village to burst in our artiIler,
 lines in the rear.
 i When we reached the cemetery, W,
 halted in front of an open grave ant laid the stretcher besides it. Form l ing a hollow square around the open | ing of the grave the chaplain read tn
 burial service.
 cracking" in the air above us, bu
 Pete didn't mind and neither did we
 When the body was lowered int
 the grave, the flag having been re l moved, we clicked our heels togethe and came to the salute ." l left before the grave was filled in could not brave to see the dir 1 thrown on the blanket covered face O
 my comrade. On the Western iron there are no collins, and you are luck. to get a blanket to protect you iron the wet and the worms Several o the section stayed and decorated tn
 grave with white stones.
 That night in the light of lonel,
 candle in the machine gunner's dug
 out of the front line trench, I wrot
 two letters. One to Pete's mother, tn