The Washington herald., 1918-02-04
by JOHN l.. BALDERsTON.
Copyright, 1918, ny the Mcclure Newspaper
SyudiCatel


Syndicate.l
Somewhere in France, Dec 2S-The
long trail to the trenches! 1t is a
trail that tens of millions of men of
nearly all the nations and races Of the
globe have wearily tramped over dur
ing four years, 4 trail that for some
millions was their last. And now
thousands of American, boys are about
to tread that trail where legions that
have vanished like smoke have trod
before them. 1t is the same trail, any
where on the Western front, and this
description of how a relief is accom-
plished, while actually written from
observation on the British front in
the north, applies just as well TO our
own boys, going into action from a
rest town in comparative safety in the
rear.
The light is dying out of the western
sky. and the evening shadows are
falling over the rest camp so that the
great square in which the battalion
Is wont to parade is darkening with
the passing minutes, and the winking
candle lights from the surrounding
huts grow more and more distinct.
Shadowy forms are fitting across
the square. Now and then voices
sound, quick words of command and
question, and quick replies.
For the battalion is parading in
full strength. and the long trail to
the trenches is about to commence.
Long Line of Shadows.
"A company, lead off.
1t is the colonel who gives the order.
The captains curt command follows.
There is rattle of equipment as the
rifles are brought to the slope, and
then the quick tread of men marking
time. until the files broaden out to
give them walking room.
A long line of shadow detaches it.
self from the main block and moves
towards the rest camp entrance. The
light from the guard huts on either
side show up the heavily -burdened
forms OF men marching four abreast.
The company draws stamping as the
captain mounts his impatient horse,
quick beat of the eager hoofs as
he gallops to the columns head.
March at ease" The command comes
clearly down the line. Again the rat
tie Of equipment as the rifles are
slung over the shoulder A low mur-
mur of conversation. And the men
settle down to the long easy stride
which will carry them most comfort
ably over the weary miles to the firing
line.
Hour after hour the company moves
forward, fifty minutes marching, and
ten minutes rest. Three miles have
been covered. The men are lying by
the roadside. packs off and rifles laid
aside. They do not mind the mud,
IL only they can ease their aching
shoulders. Six miles covered. Not SO
many men are lying down this second
halt.
First sektch Worst.
The first stretch of the trail Is al
ways the most exhausting. There is
the softness of the rest period to be
sweated out. Thereafter. in spite of
the more dilapidated condition of the
road, the limbs move more rhyth-
mically without conscious effort, shoul-
ders tortured by the early pressure
of the carrying straps become cal
loused and painless, and moving for
ward becomes a mechanical exercise.
At last the battalion arrives at the
entrance to the communication trench.
The men are all lying down. not from
fatigue, but to give the smallest pos
sible target to the bullets which are
whining around. "Blimey! that was
a near one" says a man suddenly, as
a bullet thuds into the earth a few
inches from his foot. "PeengI goes
a ricochet. striking of from the top
Of a ruined wall. did you see those
sparks?' asks a voice. Around is the
desolation of the trench area: ruined
buildings, shattered trees and disrupt
ed roads and fields. In front, the
night babel OF the trenches with the
Verey lights rising and falling. Above.
the deep, dark mystery of the moon
less sky.
Lead on" The whisper cornas
hoarsely down the line. The men rise
silently, and steal forward in single
file. They disappear into the corn
munication trench like ghosts return
ing to the grave, leaving no sign OF
their passage. ''step DOWN. "HoIe
on the right" ''Step up!" Each man
repeats the warning to his neighbor.
and the long line of men passes SAFE
ly over the narrow strip of duck
boarding.
Each Guides Other.
There may be three feet drop .un-
derneath. A slip between the board
ing and the trench wall might have
serious consequences for men top
heavy with their burdens. Thus the
army shepherds itself into the
trenches, each man guiding his COM
rsds and being guided himself in turn.