The Huttig news., 1918-03-16

grunted. COWS it a-goin' ter rain with the bloomin' sun a-shinin'?" I looked guilty.
 'Them's the guns up the line. me lad, and you'll get enough of 'em be fore you gets back to Blighty.'
 My knees seemed to wilt, and I squeaked out weak "0h!''
 Then we started our march up to the l line in ten-kilo treks. After the first l days march we arrived at our rest billets. In France they call them rest l billets, because while in them Tommy i works seven days a week and on the l eighth day of the week he is given 1 twenty-four hours lon his own
 Our billet was a spacious affair, large barn on the left side of the road l which had one hundred entrances ninety-nine for shells, rats, wind and rain, and the hnndredth one for Tom my. I was tired out, and using my shrapnel-proof helmet tshrapnel proof until a piece of shrapnel hits iD, or tin hat, for pillow, lay down in the straw, and was soon fast asleep. must have slept about two hours. when awoke with prickling sensation all over me. As I thought, the straw had worked through my uniform. I woke up the fellow lying on my left, who had been up the line before, and asked him:
 Does the straw bother you, mate? It's worked through my uniform and can't sleep"
 In q sleepy voice he answered. 'sThat ain't straw, them's cooties.'
 From that time on my friends the "eooties" were constantly with me.
 'Cooties," or body lice, are the bane of Tommy's existence.
 The aristocracy of the trenches very seldom call them 'cooties," they speak of them as fieas.
 To an American flea means small insect armed with bayonet, who is won't to jab it into you and then hop skip and jump to the next place to be attacked. There is an advantage in having tieas on you instead of "cooties" in that in one of his extended jumps Sdln Htd IS tfdttfb tO tuuu Oll llio 1tl- low next to you; he has the typical energy and push of the American while the "cootie" has the bulldog tenacity of the Englishman; he holds on and consolidates or digs in until his meal is finished.
 There is no way to get rid of them permanently. No matter how often .t.., or how many times you change your underwear, your friends the "cooties' are always in evidence. The billets are infested with them, especially 50 ii there is straw on the floor.
 have taken bath and put on l brand-new underwear; in fact. q com plete change of uniform, and then turned in for the night. The next morn ing my shirt would be full of them It is a common sight to see eight or ten soldiers sitting under tree with their shirts over their knees engaging in a "shirt hunt"
 At night about half an hour before flights out" you can see the Tommies grouped around a candle, trying, in it's dim light, to rid their underwear of the vermin. A popular and very quick method is to take your shirt and draw CTS, and run the seams back and for ward in the flame from a candle and burn them out. This practice is dan gerous, because you are liable to burn holes in the garments if you are not careful.
 Recruits generally sent to Blighty for a brand of insect powder adver- tised as Good for body lice" The ad- vertisement is quite right; the powder is good for "cooties :" they simply thrive on 1t.
 The older men of our battalion were wiser and made scratehers out of wood. These were rubbed smooth with bit of stone or sand to prevent spln- terS. They were about eighteen inches long, and Tommy guarantees that scratcher of this length will reach any part of the body which may be at tackled. Some of the fellows were lazy and only made their scratehers twelve inches. but many a night when on guard. looking over the top from the fire step of the front-line trench. they would have given thousand "quid' for the other six inches.
 Once while we were in rest billets an Irish Hussar regiment camped in an open field opposite our billet. After they sad picketed and fed their horses, general shirt hunt took place. The i troopers ignored the call "Dinner up," and kept on with their search for big game. They had curious method of procedure. They hung their shirts over hedge and beat them with their en- trenching tool handles.
 asked one of them why they didn't pick them off by hand, and he an swered, "We haven't had a bath for nine weeks or change of clabber. If l tried to pick the 'eooties off my shirt would be here for duration of war" After taking close look at his shirt, I agreed with him; 1t was alive. The greatest shock q recruit gets