The copper era and Morenci leader., 1918-11-29
LETTER FROM "OvER THERE"
Continued from Page B.

and see them hit on the opposite hill side One came near enough to throw mud and gravel or small bits of shrap- nel on my bed. Pretty soon, here came a purr that wasn't ours. One never has to be told that an enemy plane is approaching. That rising and falling zizz-l zizz-l is self-introduc- tory. They dropped a gas bomb in ou midst. Our old Klaxon rang out with it's kee-wonk and I got into my gas mask in exactly nothing flat, and wore it about twenty minutes. This happened twice during the night. Got up at daybreak, gathered up my be- longings, packed our regimental equipment and went over to establish our office. My present home is a great big old barn-like stone build ing that has been gutted by shell fire Two big shell holes in one side and several through the roof furnish plen- ty of ventilation. Had to move about wagon load of rock and debris to
 
 floor the first night, but the second day collected enough scrap lumber to build myself bunk. My tools were an old rusty cross cut saw and a the ruins of an old outhouse. We are gassed and shelled almost every night. Night before last was a wild one. Was awakened in the wee small hours by a terrific explosion and crash. Shrap- nel rained on our roof, bringing down a bunch of tile and a part of our wall. My blood ran cold and my breath just naturally elaked out. Got my breath and settled down, thinking that possibly it was stray, but they kept coming at regular intervals. A gas alarm rang out and the place was filled with smoke. Part of our men rushed to dugout, but intended to see it through. They kept getting closer-cOuld hear walls crashing. Slipped on my shoes and overcoat and ran for shelter. We sleep in our clothes. Haven't had my clothes off except to take a sponge bath Several of them, I mean), since I left south ern France. Several of our boys were killed and wounded all about me. After about an hours quiet we. slipped out one by one to see if our home and bunk were still intact. Mine was and in very few minutes I was saving wood as if nothing had happened. Am getting used to it. Then came our turn, we paid them back thousand fold. Words weren't made that would describe a heavy artillery barrage. We threw over a thousand shells a minute, but it was music, and they were retreating. The earth fairly rocked and my little bed danced jig. The sky was blood red and it rained in torrents. Seemed that the elements felt that they must do some thing with so much camouflaged thunder and Tightening. Went up be- hind the infantry lines last night to carry message. Man, it's hell up there. Left here at dusk and came back in pitch black. They sheIled the road I was on and one shell lit no more than 100 yards from me, but I have learned how to protect myself. I fell face downward with my helmet toward the whining shrapnel coming my way I left that road and took to the hillsides. Other than shaking up from falling into a couple of shell holes, came out fine and dandy.
 Air raids are every day occurren- ces. They come over in coveys- can stand in my doorway or peep out of shell hole and watch them shove o. D. pills over the side Wish you could hear the chatter from the thou sands of machine, and anti-aircraft