The Brookings register. [volume] (Brookings, Brookings County, S.D.) 1903-1971, 1918-09-12
YANKS GRIN AND
JOKE AND FIGHT
EVANS WRITES SPLENDID STORY
OF OUR BOYS RIGHT FROM
THE FRONT TRENCHES
GuNAERS LAUGH OVER ENEMY BuUNDERS
An Account OF Our Fighters That
Proves Morale OF Our Army Keeps
Them In Excellent Condition
BY H. C. EVANS
Copyright 1879

At the Front With The American
Army in France.-We left the walled
city at 6 p. m. for the front, twelve
miles away. We had gone about half
way when we had a blowout. We
had not distinguished the noise of the
bursting tire from that of shells that
were bursting in the field to the right.
The boches evidently thought they
had located something in that field,
for they had been %peppering it for
two hours. They had made a slight
mistake, however, in the location of
the something" Had they selected
a woods on the other side of the
road, and a little to the rear, they
might have disturbed a battery and
a large cache of munitions. Their
airplanes hadn't exactly located the
spot.
AS it was, our boys sat about their
guns in the edge of the woods grin
ming as they watched the shells tear
up the potato patch on the hillside a
quarter of a mile away. We ran on
a few hundred yards and pulled the
car to the side of the road underneath
a tree. Trees, shrubs, woods, the
verdure of the war zone, are better
friends to man than barricades, stone
fences and cement walls. for beneath
them men, horses, batteries and mu-
milton trucks are concealed from the
eyes of the enemy peering from air.
planes overhead.
If you never changed a tire on a
Ford car under shell fire | advise
you not to try it. l had formed some
affection for Henry Ford in the days
when we we're trying to stop the war
by milder methods than he and | are
now employing.
Those were the days of u YER
dancy, when we were to have the boys
out of the trenches some Christmases
ago, before we realized hat nothing
but bayonets and bullets will stop the
Huns. But my esteem for Henry
Ford vanished with my courage as
| tugged at that tire, trying to rip it
off the rim. When it finally yielded
the new tire proved more obstinate
still. Where's the sense in a man in
venting such a d-n fool car, any
way? Why wouldn't things fit?
Just as l had firmly secured the end
of the crowbar over the edge of the
rim, and was using my strength to
shove the casing over, a she'll burst
behind me. The crowbar slipped and
| fell forward cutting my nose, which
bled copiously, on the wheel. l was
sure | was blown to pieces. With the
wheel finally mended we donned he'll
NETS, hung gas masks about our necks
and proceeded on our journey.
To the left of the road some 500
yards, a captive balloon swung just
below a low cloud. A captive balloon
is one that is anchored to the ground
by a cable. AS the cable is tOlled
out the balloon rises to such a height
as will permit the man in it to look
across the trenches and observe the
enemy's positions and movements.
These the observer communicates by
certain signs to his own troops.
These observation balloons are the
special prey of enemy airplanes. Pres
emily above the cloud there appeared
a German flyer. Down he came,
swift as ali eagles flight, direct for
the helpless balloon, his machine gun
ablaze with its rapid fire. AS he
passed the balloon it burst into flames
and out of the noise and flames a man
plunged headlong toward the ground.
1t was the observer. Before he struck
he managed to open his parachute and
landed safely. He came into the line
a few minutes later none the worse
for his experience. Meanwhile the
German plane escaped back across
the trenches.
It was a strange road, that, and
strange things all about the road.
remember once witnessing a play
called "Sinbad the Sailor" The wood
side reminded me of the weird, scenic
effects of that play.
Here was the same blending OF
green colors and objects l had seen
on the stage. making 1t difficult to
distinguish or define any particular
object. Open spaces ere no longer
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