Orleans County monitor. [volume] (Barton, Vt.) 1872-1953, 1918-05-08

VI oO. OOA ! WOITys LILY ldUUlc, you IL
see more Of 'em than you want before
you get 'ome to Blighty again, that is,
If you're lucky enough to get back.
Now lend hand there unloadin' them
cars, and quit that everlastin' shakin'.
believe yer scared" The last with q
contemptuous sheer.
They marched ten kilos, full pack,
to little dilapidated village, and the
sound Of the guns grew louder, con-
stantly louder.
The village was full of soldiers who
turned out to inspect the new draft,
the men who were shortly to be their
mates in the trenches, for they were
going ''up the line" on the morrow, to
take over" their certain sector of
trenches.
The draft was paraded in front of
battalion headquarters and the men
were assigned to companies.
Lloyd was the only man assigned to
D company. Perhaps the officer in
charge of the draft had something to
do with it, for he called Lloyd aside
and said:
'Lloyd, you are going to new COM
pany. No one knows you. Your bed
will be as you make it, so for Gods
sake, brace up and be man. I think
you have the stuff in you, my boy, SO
good-by and the best of luck to you"
The next day the battalion took over
their part Of the trenches. It happened
to be very quiet day. The artillery
behind the lines was still. except for
an occasional shell sent over to let the
Germans know the gunners were not
asleep.
In the darkness, In single file, the
company slowly wended their way
down the communication trench to the
front line. No one noticed Lloyd's
white and drawn face.
After they had relieved the company
in the trenches, Lloyd, with two Of the
old company men, was put on guard in
one Of the traverses. Not q shot was
fired from the German lines, and no
one paid any attention to him
crouched on the firing step.
On the first time in, new recruit is
not required to stand with his head
lover the top" He only "sits it out"
while the older men keep watch.
u
he thought hell had broken loose, and
crouched and shivered up against the
parapet. Shells started bursting, as he
imagined, right in their trench, when in
fact they were landing about a hun.
dred yards in rear of them, in the Sec
ond lines.
One of the older men on guard, turn
ing to his mate, said:
"There goes Fritz with those Id
trench mOrtars again. It's about time
our artillery 'taped' them, and sent
over a few. Well, I'll be ID,
where's that blighter Of q draft man
gone to? There's his rifle leaning
against the parapet. He must have
legged it. Just keep your eye peeled.
Dick, while report it to the sergeant.
wonder If the fool knows he can be
shot for such tricks as leavin' his
post?"
Lloyd had gone. When the trench
mortars opened up, maddening ter
ror seized him and he wanted to run,
to get away from that horrible din,
anywhere to safety. So quietly sneak
ing around the traverse, he came to the
entrance Of q communication trench,
and ran madly and blindly down it,
running into traverses. stumbling into
muddy holes, and falling full length
over trench grids.
Cropping blindly, with his arms
stretched out in front of him, he at
last came out of the trench into the
village, or what used to be q village,
before the German artillery RACED it.
Mixed with his fear, he had pc
culiar sort Of cunning, which whis-
pered to him to avoid all sentries, be-
cause if they saw him he would be
sent back to that awful destruction in
the front line, and perhaps be killed
or manned. The thought made him
shudder, the cold sweat coming out in
beads on his face.
On his left, in the darkness, he could
make out the shadowy forms of trees;
crawling on his hands and knees, stop
ping and crOuching with fear at each
shell-burst, he finally reached an old
orchard and covered at the base Of a
shot-scarred apple tree.
He remained there all night, listen
ing to the sound of the guns and ever
praying, praying tnaI MS useless lie
would be spared.
AS dawn began to break, he could
discern little dark objects protruding
from the ground all about him. Curl
osity mastered his fear and he crawled
to one Of the objects, and there, in the
uncertain light, he read on little
wooden cross:
'Pte. III. S. Wheaton, No. 1870, list
London Regt. r. r. Killed in action,
April 25, 1916. r. I. p" Crest in /
Peace).
When it dawned on him that he had |
been hiding all night in cemetery |
his reason seemed to leave him, and a
mad desire to be free from it all made
him rush madly away, falling over lit
tie wooden crosses, smashing some and