Oxford Democrat. [volume] (Paris, Me.) 1833-1933, 1918-05-28
CHAPTER viii.
rha IIttla Wooden Cross.

fours. The man on my left was named
"Pete Walling," CHEEKY sort Of fel-
low. He laughed and joked all the
way on the march, buoylng up my
dropping spirits. I could not figure out
anything attractive in again occupying
the front line, but Pete did not seem to
mind, said 1t was all In lifetime. My
left heel was blistered from the rub
bing Of my heavy marching boot. Pete
noticed that I was limping and offered
to carry my rifle, but by this time 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
bashed-in part Of the trench when
in our rear q man tripped over q 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 moan
from the rear. My heart stood still.
I went back and Pete was lying on the
ground. BY the aid Of my flashlight
I 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 its glow grayish-
blue color was stealing over his coun-
tenance. Pete looked up at me and
said: "Well, Yank, they've done me in.
I can feel myself going West" His
voice was getting fainter and I had to
kneel down to get his words. Then he
gave me message to write home to
his mother and his sweetheart, and I,
like great big boob, cried like baby.
was losing my first friend Of the
trenches.
Word was passed to the rear for
stretcher. he died before 1t arrived.
Two Of US put the body on the
stretcher and carried 1t to the nearest
frst-aid post, where the doctor took
an official record Of Pete's name, num-
ber, 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 a
wreath.
While the boys were making this
wreath, I sat under q shot-scarred
apple tree and carved out the follow
ing verses on a 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 England's story
OF her sons doing their best
Rest, you soldier, mate 80 true.
Never forgotten by US below;
Know that we are thinking OF you.
Ere to our rest we are bidden to 90.
Next morning the whole section went
over to say good-by to Pete, and laid
him away to rest.
After each one had look at the face
of the dead, q 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 gravel, 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, then came
the officers Of the section, followed by
two Of the men carrying a wreath. I'm
mediately after came poor Pete on the
aag-draped stretcher, carried by four
soldiers. was one Of the four. Be
hind the stretcher, In column Of fours,
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 shell from the Ger
man lines would 60 whistling over the
village to burst In our artillery lines
In the rear.
When we reached the cemetery we
halted In front of an open grave, and
llaid 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
rcracking" 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.
I left before the grave was filled In.
| / could not bear to see the dirt thrown
on the blanket-covered face Of my COM
rade. On the western front there are
no cofflns, and you are lucky to get a
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 lonely
candle in the machine gunners dugout
Of the front-line trench wrote two
letters. One to Pete's mother. the
other to his sweetheart While doing
this I cursed the Prussisn war god
with all my heart and ] think that st.
Peter noted same.