The independent-reporter. [volume] (Skowhegan, Me.) 1909-1955, 1918-03-21

FER
signal wire, and LET out an oath. Is
usual, Pete rushed to his help. To
reach the fallen man he had IT, cross
| this bashed-in part. A bullet cracked
In the mir and ducked. Then II NOM
from the rear Ny heart stood Sill.
! went back and Pete was lying On The
ground. BY the aid Of my fasAieht
l saw TINT he had his hand pressed to
his right breast. The fingers were coy
cred with blood. | flashed tie Hight
on his face and In its 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 l had to
+ kneel down 10 get his words. Then he
gave me a message to write home to
his mother and his sweetheart, and J.,
like a great big boob, cried like baby.
/ was losing my first friend Of the
trenches.
Word was passed to the rear for 4
stretcher. He died before II arrived.
Two of us put the body on the
stretcher and carried 1t 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-
tity disk, this to be used in the cas-
ualty lists and notification to his
family.
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 Il
wreath.
While the boys We're making this
wreath. | sat under q shot-searred
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 his duty to the last,
Just one more name to be written
On the Roll of Honor of heroes passed
Passed TO their God. enshrned In glory.
Entering life of eteNal rest
One more chapter In Englands story
or her sons doing their best.
Rest, you soldier. mate SO tue,
| Never forgotten ty us below:
Know that we are thinking of you,
Ere TO our rest we are hidden to go.
! Next morning the whole section went
over to say good-by to Pete, and laid
him away to rest
After each one had Il look at the face
of the dead, a corporal of the X. A.
M. c. sewed up the remains in blan-
ket Then placing two heavy ropes
across the Strctcher Ito be used in low
erlng the body into the gravel, we lift
/ ed Pete onto the stretcher, and rev
/ ercntly covered him With large union
! jack, the flag ne had died for.
The chaplain led the way, then came
/ the officers of the section, followed by
! two of the men carrying a wreath. I'm
mediately after came poor Pete on the
fiag-draped strctcher carried by -four
i hind the stretchcr, in column of fours,
came the remainder of the section.
To get to the cemetery, we had to
pass through the little shell-deStroycd
village, where troops were hurrying
to and FRO.
As the funeral procession passed
these 'roops came to the attention
and smartly saluted the dead.
Poor petc was receiving the only So
lutte a private Is entitled TO "sono-
where in France"
Now and again shell from the Ger
village to burst in our artillery line
IN the rear.
When we reached the cemetery W,
halted in front Of an open grave, an.
laid the stretchcr beside it. Formin4
hollow square around the opening oj
the grave, the chaplain read the burial
service.
German machinegun hEllets werC
Cracking" in tae air above us, bu
Pete didn't mind, and neither did we
When the body was lowered into tho
grave the flag having been removed
we clicked our heels together anG
came to the salute
i left before the grave was filled in
] could not bear to see the dirt thrown
on the blankct-coyered face of my com
rade. On the western front there are
no collins, and yen are lucky to get q
blanket 10 protect you from the wet
and the worms. Several of the sec.
tlon stayed and decorated the grave
with white stones.
That night, IN the light of a lonely
candle in the machine gunner's dugout
of the front-line trench I wrote two
letters. One 60 Petes mother, the
other to his sweetheart. Whine doing
this l cursed the Prusslan VAT god
with all my heart, ond l think that St
Peter noted same.
The machine Cupoers In the dugoui
were laughing and Joking. TIE then
Pete WAS unknown. Pretty soon, In the
warmth Of their merriment, my blues
disappeared. one soon forgets Gu the
western front
ITO be = .fi--.