Oxford Democrat. [volume] (Paris, Me.) 1833-1933, 1918-08-06
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''Order-ArmSI ADOut-1uIu5 XIV
Arms! Stand-Clear."
The stacks were reformed.
"Quick - March! Right Wheel I"
And we left the scene of execution be-
hind us.
It was now daylight. After march
ing about FIVE minutes, we were dis
missed with the following instructions
from the officer In command:
Return, alone, to your respective
companies, and remember, no talking
about this affair, or else 1t will 60 hard
with the guilty ones"
We needed no urging to get away. I
did not recognize any Of the men on
the firing squad; even the officer was q
stranger to me.
The victims relations and friends In
Blighty will never know that he was
executed; they will be under the I'M
preston that he died doing his bit for
king and country.
In the public casualty lists his name
will appear under the caption "Acci-
dentally Killed." or "Died."
The day after the execution I re-
ceived orders to report back to the
line, and to keep a still tongue in my
head.
Executions are a part Of the days
work, but the part We hated most Of
all, l think-certainly the saddest. The
British war department is thought by
many people to be composed Of rigid
regulations ell wound around with red
tape. But It has a heart, and one OF
the evidences of this is the considerate
way in which IN execution Is concealed
and reported to the relative Of the un-
fortunate man. They never know the
truth. He is listed in the bulletins as
among the accidentally killed"
In the last ten years 1 have several
times read stories in magazines OF
towards changing, in charge, to he
roes. used to laugh at 1t. 1t seemed
easy for story-writers, but I said,
"Men aren't made that way.P But over
in France I learned once that the
streak of yellow can turn all white. l
picked up the story, bit by bit. from
the captain of the company, the SEN
tries who guarded the poor fellow, as
well as from my own observations. AT
first I did not realize the whole OF his
story, but after a week Of investiga'
ton it steod out as clear In my mind
as the mountains Of my native West In
the spring sunshine. 1t impressed me
so much that I wrote It all down In
rest billets on scraps Of odd paper.
The incidents are, as I say, every bit
true; the feelings Of the man are true
Il know from all I underwent In the
fighting over In France.
We will call him Albert Lloyd. That
wasn't his name, but 1t will do:
Albert Lloyd was what the world
terms q coward.
In London they called him Stacker.
His country had been at war nearly
eighteen months, and still he was not
in khaki.
He had no good reason for not en-
listing, being alone in the world, hav'
ing been educated in an orphan asy'
lum, and there being no one dependent
upon him for support. He had no good
position to lose, and there was no
sweetheart to tell him with her lips
to go, while her eyes pleaded for him
to stay.
Every time he saw recruiting ser
geant he'd stink around the corner out
Of sight, with terrible fear gnawing
at his heart. When passing the big re-
cruiting posters, and on his way to
business and back he passed many, he
would pull down his cap and look the
other way from that awful finger
pointing at him, under the caption,
"Your King and Country Need You"
or the boring eyes of Kitchener, which
burned into his very soul, causing him
to shudder.
Then the Zeppelin raids-during
them, he used to crouch in corner Of
his clearinghouse cellar, whimpering
like whipped puppy and calling upon
the Lord to protect him.
Even his landlady despised him. al
though she had to admit that he was
"good pay"
He very seldom read the papers, but
one momentous morning the landlady
put the morning paper at his place be-
: fore he came down to breakfast. TAX
ing his seat he read the flaring head
line, Transcription Bill Passed." and
nearly tainted. Excusing himself, he
stumbled upstairs to his bedroom,
with the horror of 1t gnawing into bis
Wtals.
Having saved up a few pounds. he
decided not to leave the house, and to
sham sickness, so he stayed In his room
and had the landlady serve his meals
there. ~ .aeft
a Every time there was q knock at the
door he trembled all over, imagining 1t
was policeman who had come TO take
him away to- the army. .
One morning his fears were realised.
Sure enough, there stood q policeman
with the fatal paper. Taking 1t In hia
trembling hand he read that he. Albert
Lloyd, was ordered to report himself
to the nearest recruiting station for
physical examination. he reported nm.
mediately. because he was afraid 70
Sdisobey. -ac3l i
The, doctor looked with approval
upon Lloyd's six feet Of physical per
lection, and thought what q fine
guardsman he would make, but exam.
ined his heart twice before he passed
him as physically lt:" Il was beating
so fast. sf
From the recruiting depot Lloyd swaa
taken, with many. others, In charge Of
sergeant, to the training depot at Al.
dershot, where heiwas given an outht
Of khaki, and drew hts. other equip
Ameht. He made q fine.looking soldier,
except for the slight shrinking II BIZ
shoulders and the hunted look IN, BIZ
eyes. d. 6as ar.atf ss .st4 ].
AT the training depot It. doss nol
take long to find out a'man'b character
and Lloyd was promptly dubbed
windy" In the Enslish army svindy
means cowardly. s VA ~. 7
The smallest recruit N ths. .barrael!