Orleans County monitor. [volume] (Barton, Vt.) 1872-1953, 1918-03-13

noticed That was Nmping and offered
to carry my rifle. but by this time I had
learned the ethics Of the march in the
British army and courteously refused
his offer.
We had gotten halfway through the
communication trench, Pete in my i'm
mediate rear. He had his hand on my
shoulder, as men in a communication
trench have to do to keep in touch with
each other. We had just climbed over
a bashed-in part of the trench when
in our rear man tripped over 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 I ducked. Then q moan
from the rear. My heart stood still.
I went back and Pete was lying on the
ground. By the aid of my flashlight
1 saw that he had his hand pressed to
his right breast. The fingers were COW
cred with blood. I flashed the light
on his face and in it's glow a grayish-
blue color was stealing over his coun-
tenance. Pete looked up at me and
said: "Well, Yank, they've done me in.
l can feel myself going West" His
voice was getting fainter and had to
kneel down to get his words. Then he
gave me message to write home to
his mother and his sweetheart, and l,
like a great big boob, cried like q baby.
I was losing my first friend of the
trenches.
Word was passed to the rear for
t.
Two of us put the body on the
stretcher and carried it to the nearest
first-aid post, where the doctor took
an official record of Pete's name, num-
Der, rank and regiment from his iden-
tity disk, this to be used in the cas-
ualty 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
wreath.
While the boys were making this
wreath, l sat under a 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 Englands 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 hidden to go.
Next morning the whole section vert
over to say good-by to Pete, and laid
him away to rest.
After each one had look at the face
of the dead, a corporal of the r. A.
NJ. G. sewed up the remains in blan-
ket. Then placing two heavy ropes
across the stretcher Ito be used in low
ering the body into the graveG, we lift
ed Pete onto the stretcher, and rev.
erently covered him with large union
jack, the flag he had died for.
The chaplain led the way, Their came
the officers of the section, followed by
two of the men carrying q wreath. I'M
mediately after came DOOR Pete on the
StretChoT, carried By four
soldiers. [ was one of the four. Be
hind the stretcher, in column of tours,
came the remainder of the section.
To get to the cemetery, we had to
pass through the little shell-destroyed
village, where troops were hurrying
to and fro.
AS the funeral procession passed
these troops came to the "attentiOn"
and smartly saluted the dead.
Poor Pete was receiving the only sa-
lutte a private is entitled to "some-
where in France"
Now and again q shell from the Ger
man lines would go whistling over the
in the rear.
When we reached the cemetery we
halted in front of an open grave, and
laid the stretcher beside it. Forming
a hollow square around the opening Of
the grave, the chaplain read the burial
service.
German machine-gun bullets were
"cracking" in the air above us, but
Pete didn't mind, and neither did we.
When the body was lowered into the
grave the flag having been removed,
we clicked our heels together and
came to the salute.
left before the grave was nfIed III.
L could not bear to see the dirt thrown
on the blanket-cOvered face of my COM
rade. On the western front there are
no collins, and you are lucky to get
blanket to protect you from the wet
and the worms. Several of the sec
ton stayed and decorated the grave
with white stones.
That night, in the light of a lonely
candle in the machine gunner's dugout