The Bamberg herald. [volume] (Bamberg, S.C.) 1891-1972, 1918-04-04
CHAPTER Viii.
The Little Wooden Cross.

, tnc EltGtS WCCOSN STOSOs
q After remaining in rest billets for
eight days, we received the unwelcome
etidings that the next morning we would
isgo inn to ''take over" At six in the
morning our march started and, after
la long march down the dusty road, we
again arrived at reserve billets.
III was No. 1 in the leading set OF
tfours. The man on my left was named
tsPete Walling," a CHEEKY sort Of fel-
How He laughed and joked all the
way on the march, buoying up my
drooping spirits, I could not figure cut
hnything attractive in again occupying
tthe front line, but Pete did not seem to
mind, said it was all in q lifetime. Ny
left heel was blistered from the rub
tbing of my heavy marching boot. Pete
noticed that I was imping and offered
hp carry my rife, but by this time I had
learned the ethics of the march in the
IBritish army and courteously refused
Ibis offer. ~
{ We had gotten halfway through the
tcommunication 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
leach other. We had just climbed over
Ia bashed-in part of the trench when
lin our rear a man tripped over a loose
@ignal wire, and let out an oath. AS
usual, Pete rushed to his help. To
reach the fallen man he had to cross
tttllis bashed-in part. A bullet cracked
iin the air and I ducked. Then moan
from the rear. Ny heart stood still.
H went back and Pete was lying on the
iiground. By the aid of my fashlight
III saw that he had his hand pressed to
ihis right breast. The fingers were COW
iefed with blood. I flashed the light
lon his face and In it's glow a grayish-
blue color was stealing over his coun-
itenance. Pete looked up at me and
isaid: ssWe1, Yank, they've done me In.
II can feel myself going West" His
voice was getting fainter and had to
Ekneel down to get his words. Then he
tgaYe me a message to write home to
Ibis mother and his sweetheart, and l.
like great big boob, cried like a baby.
4 was losing my first friend Of the
trenches.
i Word was passed to the rear for a
tstretcher. He died before 1t arrived.
Two Of us put the body on the
sIstretcher and carried it to the nearest
tflrst-aid post, where the doctor took
Ian official record Of Pete's name, num-
fber, rank and regiment from his iden-
stity disk, this to be used in the cas-
fualty lists and notification to his
family.
We left Pete there, but it broke our
hearts to do so. The doctor informed
tus 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 shot-scarred
iapple tree and carved out the follow
hng verses on a little wooden shield
(which we nailed on Pete's cross.
True to his Cod. 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,
lone 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 hidden to go.
Next morning the whole section went
tover to say good-by to Pete, and laid
him away to rest.
/ After each one had look at the face
iof the dead, a corporal Of the r. A.
I'M. C. sewed up the remains in blan-
.ket. Then placing two heavy ropes
across the stretcher Ito be used in low
iering the body into the grave), we lift