The silver state. [volume] (Winnemucca, Nev.) 1909-1925, 1918-04-11
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lMIhuR GUY EnHYI

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
real 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
wreath, l sat under a shot-scarred
apple tree and carved out the follow
ing verses on a 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. ~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 so true,
Never forgotten by us below:
Know that we are linking 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 a look at the face
of the dead, a corporal of the r. A.
NJ. C. sewed up the remains in a 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.
erently covered him with a 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 a wreath. I'm
mediately after came poor Pete on the
flag-draped stretcher, carried by four
soldiers. / was one of the four. Be
hind the stretcher, in column of tours,
came the remainder of the section.
To get to the cemetery, we had to
pass through the little shell-destroyed
village, where troops were hurrying
to and fro.
AS the funeral procession passed
these troops came to the attention"
and smartly saluted the dead.
Poor Pete was receiving the only sa-
lutte a private is entitled to 'some-
where in France"
Now and again a shell from the Ger
man lines would go whistling ove the
village to burst in our artillery lines
in the rear.
When we reached the cemetery we
halted in front of an open grave, and
laid the stretcher beside it. Forming
a hollow square around the opening Of
the grave, the chaplain read the burial
service.
German maehine-gun bullets were
Cracking in the air above us, but
Pete didn't mind, and neither did we.
When the body was lowered into the
grave the flag having been removed,
we clicked our heels together and
came TO the salute.
/ left before the grave was filled In.
l could not bear to see the dirt thrown
on the blanket-covered face of my COM
rade. On the western front there are
no collins, and you are lucky to get a
blanket to protect you from the wet
and the worms. Several of the sec
ton 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 / wrote two
letters. One to Pete's mother, the
other to his sweetheart. While doing
this / cursed the Prusslan war god
with all my heart, and / think that st.
Peter noted same.
The machine gunners in the dugout
were laughing and joking. To them
Pete was unknown. Pretty soon, in the
warmth of their merriment, my blues
disappeared. One soon forgets On the
western front.
ITO BE Continued
HEAI II IT, A.sy-