Evening star., 1918-07-14
How American Boys Stand By Their Gums ON the Battle Lime

AAS oOSl1S-AlOSef 10 the
German Lines Than Any
Other Gun In France.
BY GEORGE II. sELDEs
Special Correspondence Of The Star.
WITH THE AMERICAN ARMY
IN FRANCE. July 4. 1918.
FNfHE sentry stepped out of his
box and barred the road with
his rife.
Automobiles go no farther"
he said.
"Al right"
French gas>masks at the. side.
British gas masks at the alerte."
We shifted the masks around our
necks.
"An right"
Proceed by two. one hundred yards
apart
"All right"
With runner lent by Maj. -
whom we had seen in his dugout in q
battered village. we began our ar
tillery search in the woods and open
places on a divisional front which
has known the American troops for a
long and thrilling period. We looked
diligently. for camoufiage is camou-'
hage. and there are certain things
like battery positions with nothing
in them which tempt to the boche
just as much as roaring 75s, and
there are certain things which can
not be mentioned to deceive a German
spy who may be prowling about in
the guise of a peaceful peasant un-
mindful OF the large growth Of red
poppies in his French wheat behind
our lines.
where do you want to go first
to see the 75s or to see Betsy?' asked
the runner.
who is Betsy?"
'Betsy Sniper-"
"Betsy Sniper?'
lis the bravest little lady in this
DIVISION" the runner replied. "She is
the most advanced little lady, too, She
stands out there on the side of the
hill. and she amt got no camouflage
o,o.a or nuthir tn on: And If you get too
speaks loud like. you're liable to get
an ear drum busted"
Take us to Betsy first" we said.
We crossed through the opening
In a nice little field of barbed wire
road.
Stick here in the valley" said the
runner ''The boche has perfect OBJ
servation on that road from the hills
on the other side. When he is feel
ing particularly bochey he shoots
tncherS at couples"
Now. the runner may have. been
exaggerating bit, but that depends
on how many individuals or couples
nave been trying before US to reach
holes in our path, the round red
scafs on the hills, the overlapping,
water-fl1ed, dirty wounds in the
plain: the black, blotchy holes where
gas had burst with crash and a
tell-tale swishy noise, blighting the
daisies and poppies and purple stalks
nearby. corroborated rather the story
Of the runner. And there was not a
square foot Of ground along our two
mile walk from the sentry to the guns
that did not have at least one piece
of Jagged shell OF, shrapnel on IT.
We walked on the path sunken
some six or eight feet below the
parallel road. and. nearing our OBJ
Jective. we found a series Of holes
and shelters dug into the ground.
IL
sembling more than trench dug-outs
tho cave dwellings Of our own far
west. At one of these dug-outs we
found our man. The runner saluted.
4
Lieutenant" he said. here's q
coupla visitors for Betsy"
Lieut.. Hugh B. Scott Of Wheeling.
W. Va, and of Yale, '13. when he
: pitched against Harvard, was in his
khaki shirt sleeves. Leather strap
on chin held his helmet. The little
gold bar Of rank was pinned to his
collar, and around his neck hung his
mask. The closer one gets to the
front line the less the rigidity Of sti1
uniforms. Sam Browne belts and the
tone of command.
We talked heavy artillery little
while. The dug-out was spotlessly
clean, whitewashed and ranged with
numerous instruments. A soldier
was sitting at the table. working out
mathematical problems which even
tually would be given the battery to
solve.
"Betsy is only ten yards from here
the lieutenant said. concluding our
general discussion. eve can go by
the tunnel or over the top De-
pends on the time Of day. We get
three hates day now-breakfast
Nd