Manchester Democrat. [volume] (Manchester, Iowa) 1875-1930, 1918-04-03

learned the ethics Of the march in thu
British army and courteously refused
his offer.
We had gotten halfway through the
communication trench, Pete In my i'm
mediate rear. He had his hand on my
shoulder, as men in communication
trench have to do to keep In touch with
each other. We had just climbed over
bashed-in part Of the trench when
In our rear a man tripped over loose
signal wire, and let out an oath. AS
usual Pete rushed to his help. To
reach the fallen man he had to cross
this 'bashed-in part. A bullet cracked
in the air and ducked. Then moan
from the rear. My heart stood still.
went back and Pete was lying on the
ground. BY the aid Of my flashlight
saw that he had his hand pressed to
his right breast. The fingers were GOV.
cred with blood. I flashed the light
on his face and in it's glow a grayish-
blue color was stealing over his coun-
tenance. Pete looked up at me and
said: "Well, Yank, they've done me in.
can feel myself going West" His
voice was getting fainter and had to
kneel down to get his words. Then he
gave me a message to write home to
his mother and his sweetheart, and I,
like great big boob, cried like a baby.
I was losing my first friend of the
trenches.
Word was passed to the rear for
stretcher. He died before it arrived.
Two of us put the body on the
Stretcher and carried it to the nearest
first-aid post, where the doctor took
an official record Of Pete's name, num-
Der, rank and regiment from his iden-
tlty disk, this to be used in the cas-
ualty lists and notification to his
family. q
We left Pete there, but it broke our
hearts to do. so. The doctor informed
us that we could bury him the next
morning. That afternoon five Of the
boys Of our section, myself included,
went to the little ruined village in the
rear and from the deserted gardens Of
the French chateaux gathered grass
and flowers. From these we made a
wreath.
While the boys were making this
sat under shot-scarred
apple tree and carved out the follow
ing verses on little wooden shield
which we nailed on Pete's cross.
True to his God: true to Britain.
Doing h duty to the last,
Just one more name to be written
On the Roll OF Honor of heroes passed
Passed to their God, enshrined In glory,
Entering life Of eternal rest
One more chapter in England's story
OF her sons doing their best
Rest, you soldier, mate 50 true,
Never forgotten by us below:
Know that we are thinking Of you,
Ere to our rest we are hidden to 60.
Next morning the whole section went
over to say good-by to Pete, and laid
him away to rest.
After each one had a look at the face
Of the dead, a corporal Of the R. A.
NJ. G. sewed up the remains In blan-
ket. Then placing two heavy ropes
across the stretcher Ito be used in low
ering the body into the gravel, we lift
ed Pete onto the stretcher, and rev.
covered him with large union
Jack, the flag he had died for.
The chaplain led the way, then came
the officers Of the section, followed by
two of the men carrying wreath. I'm
after came poor Pete on the
stretcher, carried by four
soldiers. I was one Of the four. Be-
lind the stretcher, in column Of tours,
anne the remainder Of the section.
To get to the cemetery, we had to
,ass through the little shell-destroyed
'illage, where troops were hurrying
o and fro.
As the funeral procession passed
hese troops came to the attention"
md smartly .saluted the dead.
Poor Pete was receiving the only sa-
ute q private is entitled to "some-
where In France"
Now and again a shell from the Ger
nan lines would go whistling over the
'illage to burst in our artillery lines
q the rear.
When we reached the cemetery we
lalted in front Of an open grave, and
aid the stretcher beside 1t. Forming
hollow square around the opening Of
he grave, the chaplain read the burial
ervice.
German machine-gun bullets were
cracking" in the air above us, but
'ete didn't mind, and neither did we.
When the body was lowered into the
rave the flag having been removed,
We clicked our heels together and
anne to the salute. +,
left before the grave was filled in.
could not bear to see the dirt thrown /;
n the blanket-covered face of my COM
ade. On the western front there are
o collins, and you are lucky to get
lanket to protect you from the wet
nd the worms. Several of the sec
lon stayed and decorated the grave
nth white stones.
That night, in the light Of lonely
andle in the machine gunner's dugout
T the front-line trench wrote two
etters. One to Pete's mother, the
,ther to his sweetheart. While doing
his I cursed the Prusslan war god
With all my heart, and think that st. |
Peter noted same.
The machine gunners in the dugout
we're laughing and joking. To them