The Benson signal., 1918-05-04
CHAPTER X-Continued.

u
We had sergeant in our battalion
named Warren. He was on duty with
his platoon in the fire trench one after
noon when orders came up from the
rear that he had been granted seven
days leave for Blighty, and would be
relieved at i've o'clock to proceed to
England.
He was dckled 70 death at these
welcome tidings and regaled his more
or less envious mates beside him on
the fire step with the good times in
store for him. He figured it out that
in two days time he would arrive at
Waterloo station, London, and then
seven days bliss
At about five minutes to five he
started to fidget with his rifle, and
then suddenly springing up on the fire
step with a muttered, "Ill send over
a couple of souvenirs to Fritz so that
he'll miss me when I leave" he stuck
his rifle over the top and fired two shots
when "crack" went bullet and he
rumOled off the step, fell into the mud
at the bottom of the trench, and lay
still in huddled heap with a bullet
hole in his forehead.
At about the time he expected to ar
rive at Waterloo station he was laid
to rest in a little cemetery behind the
lines. He had gone to Blighty.
In thes trenches one can never tell
it is not safe to plan very far ahead.
After "stand down. the men sit on
the fire step or repair to their respec-
tive dugouts and wait for the rum is
sue" to materialize. Immediately fol-
lowing the rum comes breakfast,
brought up from the rear. Sleeping is
then in order unless some special work
turns up.
Around II 80 dinner shows up.
When this is eaten the men try to
amuse themselves until "tea" appears
at about four o'clock, then "stapl to"
and they carry on as before.
While in rest billets Tommy go1s up
about six in the morning, washes up,
answers roll call, is inspected by his
platoon officer, and has breakfast. At
8 AS he parades (drills) with his COM
pany or goes on fatigue according to
the orders which have been read out
by the orderly sergeant the night pre-
viOuS.
Between IL 80 and noon he is dis
missed, has his dinner and is "on his
own" for the remainder Of the day,
unless he has clicked for a digging or
working party, and so it goes on from
day to day, always 'looping the loop"
and locking forward to peace and
Blighty.
Sometimes, while engaged in a
'cootie" hunt, you think. Strange to
say, but it is a fact, while Tommy is
searching his shirt serious thoughts
come to him. Many time, when per-
forming this operation, I have tried
to figure out the outcome Of the war
and what will happen to me.
My thoughts generally ran in this
channel:
Will I emerge safely from the next
attack? If do will skin through the
following one, and so on? While your
mind is wandering into the future it
is likely to be rudely brought to earth
by Tommy interrupting with, "Whats
good for rheumatism"
Then you have something else to
think of. Will you come out Of this
war crippled and tied into knots with
rheumatism, caused by the wet and
mud of trenches and dugouts? You
give it up as bad job and generally
saunter over to the nearest estaminet
to drown your moody forebodings in a
glass of sickening French beer or to
try your luck at the always present
game Of '"house." You can hear the
sing-song voice of a Tommy droning
out the numbers as he extracts the
little squares Of cardboard from the
bag between his feet.