Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1918-01-06

ing their fire Leftanan. Newall sure
was a lad, not arr he weren't.
That next twenty minutes of waiting
was hell Then. from out of the black
ness, over toward our trench. rang that
old familiar Alt. who goes thereT We
Rugged the ground. We knew what
was coming. Then. a voiley from our
trench, and four 'typewriters' machine
right over our heads. One hit the
ground about foot from me, rico
cheted, and went moaning and signing
over the German lines.
breath:
"'God, we're in direct line of our own
fire. The trench-raiding party must
have circled u.s.
doing themselves proud. The bullets
were cracking and biting the ground
all around US.
I'm between our trench and our party
curses rang out in German as the
boches clicked the fire from the Eng
fish trench Star shells were shooting
into the air and dropping in no mans
land. It was great. but terrible sisnt
which met our eyes. fritZ raioihs
party was sure being wiped out
*
Ten or fifteen dark forms, the rem
nants of the German raiding party.
dashed past us in the direction of the
German trench. We Rugged the
ground. 1t was our only chance. We
knew that it would only be few
seconds before Fritz turned loose. II
we had legged it for our trench we
would have been wiped out by our own
fire. You see. our, boys thought we
were safely in.
Then, UP went Fritz's star lights,
turning night into day. and hell cut
loose. Their bullets were shipping
twigs from the hedge over our heads
Suddenly. the fellow on my left. Mac
Cauley by name, emitted a muffied
groan-. and started kicking the ground:
then silence He had gone west A
bullet through the NAPIER. suppose.
There were now five of us left.
suddenly, Leftenant Newail. in a
faint choking vocie. exclaimed:
They've got me. French. it's through
the lung and then fainter-'You're in
command See that His voice
died away. Pretty soon he started
moaning loudly. The Germans must
have heard these means because they
Immediately turned their fire on US.
French called to me:
" .Sonney. come here. my lad. our OFF,
Ger has clicked it,
Il craw1ed over to him. He was sit
ting on the ground with the leftenant's
head resting in his lap. and was get
ting out his ffrst-aid packet. I told
him to get low or he would click it.
He answered:
"'Since when does a bloomin' lance
corporal take orders from bloody
private? You tell the rest of the boys,
if they've not as yet gone west, to
leg ii back to our trench at the double
and get a stretcher, and you go with
them. This lad of ours has got to get
medical attention. and damned quick.
too. if we want to stop this bleeding.
Just then a German star shell landed
about ten feet from US. and, in its
white. ghostly light could see French
sitting like a bloomin' statue, his
hands covered with blood. trying to
make a tourniquet out of a bandage
and his bayonet.
II told the rest to get in and get the
stretcher They needed no second urg-
ing. and soon French was left there
alone. sitting on the ground, holding
his dying officers head in his lap. A
pretty picture / call it. He sure was a
man was French-with the bullets
cracking overhead and kicking up the
dirt around him."
Just then Happy butted in with: