The Pensacola journal. (Pensacola, Fla.) 1898-1985, 1918-06-01
ARIf1UR GUY FfpFzY
GUNNER SERVING N FRANCE
| 0IH7 ar
fHRThuR HT ErHYI

/ suddenly, the earIl seemed TO snake
and thunderclap burst In my ears. I
opened my eyes-I was splashed all
lover with sticky mud, and men were
| ipicking themselves up from the bottom
| of the trench. The parapet on my left
| had toppled into the trench, completely
| blocking it with wall of tossed-up
earth. The man on my left lay still. /
| rubbed the mud from my face, and an
| awful sight met my gaze-his head
was smashed TO a pulp, and his steel
! helmet was full of brains and blood.
! "A German Minnie" (trench mortar)
had exploded In the next traverse. Men
were digging into the soft mass of mud
/ In frenzy of haste. Srretcher-beari
ers came up the trench on the double.
After a few minutes of digging, three
Sill, muddy forms on stretchers were
carried down the communication
/ trench to the rear. Soon they would
| be resting somewhere in France" with
"a little wooden cross over their heads.
They had done their bit for kir,< nd
country. had died without firing not,
but their services were appreciated,
nevertheless.
Later on, / found out their names.
They belonged to our draft
/ was dazed and motionless. Sud-
denly shovel was pushed into my
hands, and a rough but kindly voice
said:
| Here, my lad, lend hand clearing
the trench. but keep your head down,
and look out for snipers. One of the
Fritz's is a daisy, and he'll get you if
you're not careful
| Lying on my belly on the bottom of
the trench, I filed sandbags with the
sticky mud, they were dragged to my
gear by the other men, and the work of
rebuilding the parapet was on. The
harder / worked, the better I felt. AL
though the weather was cold, I was
Soaked with sweat
Occasionally a bullet would crack
overhead, and a machine gun would
kick up the mud on the bashed-in para
pet. At each crack / would duck and
shield my face with my arm. One of
the older men noticed this action of
mine, and whispered:
Don't duck at the crack of a bull
let, Yank; the danger has passed-you
never hear the one that wings you.
always remember that If you are going
y.
This made a great impression on me
at the time, and from then on, / adopt
ed his motto, IF you're going TO get 1t,
you'll get it,
+: It helped me wonderfully. used IT
so often afterwards that some of my
mates dubbed me, 'If you're going to
get it, you'll get it."
!. After an hours hard work, all my
nervousness left me, and I was laugh,
ing and joking with the rest.
At one o'clock, dinner came ND In
the form of a dixie Of hot stew.
l looked for my canteen. 1t had
fallen off the fire step, and was half
buried in the mud. The man on my
left noticed this, and told the corporal,
.dishing out the rations, to put my
share in his mess tin. Then he whis-
pered TO me. always take care of Your
mess tin, mate"
/ had learned another maxim OF the
trenches.
That stew tasted fine. I was as
hungry as bear. We had seconds"
or another helping, because three of
the men had "gone West" killed by
the explosion of the German trench
mortar, and we ate their share. but
still / was hungry, so / filed in with
bully beef and biscuits. Then drained
my water bottle. Later on ] learned |
another maxim of the front line. go |
sparingly with your water" The bully
beef made me thirsty. and by tea time
IL was dying for drink, but my pride |
would not allow me to ask my mates
Tor water. I was fast learning the |
ethics of the trenches.
That night l was put on guard with
an Older man. We stood on the fire
step with our hands over the top, peer |
Ing out into No Mans Land. It was |
nervous work for me. but the other fell |
low seemed TO take 1t as part of the |
nights routine.
Then something shot past nv face. |
My heart stopped beating. and ducked |
my head below the parapet. A soft
ichuckle from my mate brought me TO |
my senses. and I feebly asked. For
heavens sake. what was that?"
He answered. ''Only a rat taking a |
promenade along the sandbags." Il
felt very sheepish.
About every twenty minutes the sem
try in the next traverse would fire q /
star shell from his flare pistol. The
''plop" would give me a start Of fright. /
never got used TO this noise during
my service in the trenches.
/ would watch the arc described by /
the star shell, and then stare into No |
Mans Land waiting for ii to burst In /
Its lurid light the barbed wire and |
stakes would be silhouetted against it's
light like a latticed window. Then
darkness.
once, out in front of our wire, T /
heard noise and saw dark forms /
moving. Nv rifle WAS lying acrnsS tho