The herald and news. [volume] (Newberry S.C.) 1903-1937, 1918-03-22

I'VE saluted, and were just going oilt
TIE door Of the dugout when the cap
tain called up back and said:
"'Sn,c,.,e GoldfakcS? Yes? Well.
there are two tins of them on my table.
Go back to the battery. and keep your
tongues between your teeth. Under
stand?
owe understood.
"For five weeks afterwards our hat
terry did nothing but extra fatigues.
We were satisfied and so were the
men. 1t was worth it to put one over
on O!d Pepper, to say nothing of the
injury caused to Fritz feelings"
When Wilson had finished his story
I looked up and the dugout was
iammed. An artillery captain and two
officers had also entered and stayed
for the finish. Wilson spat out an
enormous quid of tobacco, looked up,
saw the captain, and got as red as a
carnation. The captain smiled and
left. Wilson whispered to me:
"Blime me, Yank, I see where click
for crucfixion. That captain is the
same one that chucked us Goldflakes
in his dugout and here 1 have been
'chucking me weight about in his
hearing"
Wilson never clicked his crucifxion.
Quite contrast to Wilson was an
other character in our brigade named
Scott; we called him "Old Scotty'' on
account Of his age. He was fifty-seven,
although looking forty. "Old Scotty''
had been born in the Northwest and
had served in the Northwest Mounted
police. He was typical cowpuncher
and Indian fighter and was dead shot
with the rife, and took no pains to
disguise this fact from US. He used to
take care of his rifle as if it were a
baby In his spare moments you could
always see him cleaning it or polish
ing the stock. Woe betide the man
who by mistake happened to get hold
of this rife; he soon found out his
error. Scott was as deaf as a mule,
and it was amusing at parade to watch
him in the manual of arms, slyly
glancing out of the corner Of his eye
at the man lext to him to see what
the order was. How he passed the
doctor was a mystery to US; he must
have bluffed his way through, because
he certainly was independent. Beside
him the Fourth Of July looked like
Good Friday. He wore at the time
large sombrero, had a Mexican stock
saddle over his shoulder, lariat on
his arm, and a "forty-five" hanging
from his hip. Dumping this parapher-
MALTA on the floor he went up to the
recruiting officer and shouted: I'm
from America, west of the Rockies,
and want to join your ID army.
I've got no use for German and can
shoot some. At Scotland Yard they
turned me down; said was deaf and
so am. I don't banker to ship in with
q id mud-crunching outfit. but the
cavalry's full, so I guess this. regi-
ment's better than none. so trot out
your papers and III sign 'em." He told
them he was forty and slipped by. I
was on recruiting service at the time
he applied for enlistment.
It was Old Scotty's great ambition
to be a sniper or "body snatcher," as
Mr.. Atkins calls it. The day that he
was detailed as brigade sniper he cele-
brated his appointment by blowing the
whole platoon to fags.
Being a Yank, Old Scotty took lik-
ing to me and used to spin some great
yarns about the plains, and the whole
platoon would drink these in and ASK
for more. Ananias was rookie COM
pared with him.
The ex-plainsman and discipline
could not agree, but the officers all
liked him, even if he was hard to man
age. so when he was detailed as a
sniper a sigh of relief went up from
the officers mess.
Old Scotty had the freedom of the
brigade. He used to draw two or
three days rations and disappear with
his glass, range finder and rifle, and we
would see or hear no more Of him
until suddenly he would reappear
with a couple of notches added to
those already on the butt of his rifle.
Every time he got German it meant
another notch. He was proud of these
notches.
But after a few months Father
rheumatism got him and he was sent
to Blighty; the air in the wake of his
stretcher was blue with curses. Old
Scotty surely could swear; some Of his
outbursts actually burned you.
No doubt, at this writing, he is
somewhere in Blighty'' pussy footing
1t on bridge or along the wall OF
some munition plant with the "G. H."
or Home Defense corps.