Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1918-03-17

stories, that l was with the 22d Bat
talon of the Queens Surrey Regimen
in all these experiences 1 am setting
down. l had Joined out with the Roya
Fusileers in England and had beer
transferred when I crossed to France
The dugouts here in the quarries
were the worst l saw In France They
were reasonably dry and roomy, but
they had no ventilation except the tun-
mel entrance. and going back so far
the air inside became simply sitting
in a very short time.
7 took one inhale of the interior at
mosphere and decided right there that
l would bivouac in the open. I was
lust getting down to kip when SEN
try came up and said would nave &c
get inside. 1t seemed that Fritz hao
the range of the auarries to an inch
and was in the habit of sending over
.minnies" at intervals just to let US
know he wasn't asleep.
had got settled down comfortably
and was doing off when there came
call for c Company. j got the men
from my platoon out as quickly as pos
sible and in half an hour we were in
the front trenches
No 10 platoon was assigned to the
center sector, No. II to the left sector
and No. l. to the right sector. No. 9
remained behind in supports in the
quarries
sectors I mean that at this point there
was no continuous line of front
trenches: only isolated stretches of
trench separated by intervals of from
200 to 200 yards of open ground. There
were no dugouts. 1t was impossible to
leave these trenches except under cover
of darkness-or to get TO them or to
get up rations. They were awful holes.
Any raid by the Germans in large num-
bers at this time would have wiped US
out. as there was no means of retreat
ing or getting up reinforcements.
The Tommies called the trenches
grouse spots" 1t was a good name.
We got into them in the dense dark
ness of Just before dawn. The division
we relieved gave us hardly any in
struction, but beat it on the hot foot,
glad to get away and anxious to go be-
cozy danger spots I heard Rolfie, the
fros-voiced baritone, humming one of
his favorite coster songs:
Oh. why did leave my little back room in old
Bloombury:
Where could live for pound a week in luxury.
wanted to live higher,
So married Marier
out of the frying pan into the bloomin' FIRE.
And he meant every word of it.
In our new positions in the grouse
holes the orders were to patrol the
open ground between at least four
times a night. That first night there
was one more patrol necessary before
daylight. Tired as I was. / volunteered
for it l had had one patrol before op-
posite Bully Grenay and thought 1
liked the game.
/ went over with one man, a fellow
named Bellinger. We got out and
started to crawl. All we knew was
that the left sector was 200 yards
away. Machine gun bullets were
sauealing and swapping overhead pref
ty continuously and we had to hug the
dirt. 1t is surprising to see how fiat
man can keep and still get along at
good rate of speed. We kept straight
away to the left and presently got into
wire. And then we heard German
voices. Ow! 1 went cold all over.
Then some very" lights went up and
saw the boche parapet not twenty
feet away. Worst of all, there was q
little lane through their wire at that
point, and there would be, no doubt. a
Saphead or a listening post near. tried
to lie still and burrow into the diret at
the same time. Nothing happened.
Presently the lights died and Bellinger
gave me a poke in the ribs. We started
to crawfish. Why we weren't seen I
don't know: but we had gone all of
100 feet before they spotted US. For
tunately. we were on the edge of a
shallow shell hole when the sentry
caught our movements and Fritz cut
loose with the "typewriters" We rolled
in. A perfect torrent of bullets ripped