The Garland City globe. (Garland, Utah) 191?-1925, 1918-12-14


The English Lion was roaring, and
his growls could be heard all along the
western front. No doubt many Ger
man general was stirring uneasily In
his large concrete shell-proof dugout,
kllos behind the German front line, as
the ever-increaslng laundering roar
reached his ears.
We had closeup view Of his ma
jesty, the king of bensts. and TO us he
was sorry-looklng specimen. Patches
of hide were worn away, while In his
tail were Two big knots. II these knots
had have been labeled II would have
been easy to read "Neuve Chapelle"
and "Gnllipoli." The memory and
pain OF these two disasters no doubt
increased the intensity Of his thunder
The British bombardment OF the
German lines was on, bombardment
which lasted over eight days and
nights. IL wns the forerunner of the
Big Push. or "Battle of the Somme."
Atwell and l were sitting In dug
out OF the support trench. Atwell was
great. big. lovnble fellow. and was
my mate. We both had been detailed
TO the divisional intelligence depart
ment, and wero engaged upon "spy
work."
Atwell, although OF naturally
CHEEKY disposition, occasionally re-
lapsed into fits OF dependency.
In the light from n stump of a can
N ant ntIQ
days report TO turn into brigade
headquarters. Occasionally the en-
trance TO the dugout would light up
with red fare ns shell burst IN the
near vicinity. Atwell was sitting on
his pack. with his back leaning against
the wet and muddy wall of the dugout.
The rays from the candle lighted up
his face.
Finishing my report, got out n
flag" lighted Il. and with an uneasy
feeling listened to the roar Of the hell
outside. A long-drawn sigh caused
me 10 look IN Atwell's direction.
Never In my life have seen such n
detected and woe-begone countennnce.
This, In a way, angered me, because
I. myself, right then. had n feeling of
impending disaster n sort OF unknown
dread, perhaps intermlngled with n
far-away longing for the fields and
flowers Mt home. wanted to be
cheered, and Atwell's face looked like
a morgue.
Forcing n smile slapped Atwell on
the knee and said:
"Come out o. your trance. We've
both got good chance for Blighty
with this bombardment on"
Atwell looked In my direction. and
in tone of voice which from him
had never heard before, answered: ,
"Yank. I've been out since IA. I've
buried many a mate and I've seer
many lucky 'bloke on stretchel
bound for BlIghty, and never gave i
thought, but right now ! feel as !
my stay In the trenches Will be short
I've had something on my mind since
September, 1914. and It's been worry
Ing me pink. Pm goin' to tell you TIN
story, and I'll give you my oath tina
you're the first one that's ever hear'
Il from my lips; but I've got to hav'
your promise that you'll not Judge I'M
too harshly. I've just got to get l
out o. my system"
Just then n signing moan could b
heard overhead. II was one or on
"nine-point-two" shells aimed In tn
direction of Berlin. We both instinc
lively turned our eyes toward the en-
trance of the dugout and waited TO
the burst. Nothing happened.
Another bloomin' dud," CALCULATED
Atwell. "a few more hundred pound
gone to seed" and then again tn
gloomy look spread over his counte
nance. l was getting nervous and un
easy. Trying to hide my fear, l said
"For tn love o. Mike, Atwell, cracl
n smile. Give us that story OF yours
or else I'll go bughOuse. You had bet
ter get II off or your chest, becaus
Pm thinking that Fritz will soon b
replying to our strafing, and II al
eight-inch shell ever hits this dugou
they'll need no wooden crosses 70
us, because our names will appear III
der the caption Missing.
With another sigh escaping fror
his lips, which sent cold shiver u
aud down my spinal column. he iighte
n flag and started In. This is what Ia
told me:
at was back in September. 1011
You know came out with the mrs
hundred thousand, the time when a
the fighting was done In the opeI
The Germans were smashing ever,
thing before them In their drive o
Paris. Our regiment was one of tn
few opposed TO Won Kluck. 1t was
case of hold them for few hours an
then retreat-always retreat. w
didn't even have time to bury gu
dead. The grub was rotten, and W
were gust upout tagged out, dead tire'
with no prospect of a relief or rest
front OF us.
"Jt was customary for small patrol