Orleans County monitor. [volume] (Barton, Vt.) 1872-1953, 1918-06-05

that a shell would hit us and end our
misery Personally, I was not particu-
lar. 1t was nothing but bump, jolt, rat
tie, and bang.
Several times the driver would turn
around and give us a "CheerO, mates,
Wen soon be there fine fellows,
those ambulance drivers, lot of them
go West, too.
We gradually drew out Of the fire
zone and pulled up in front of an i'm
mense dugout. Stretcher-bearers car
ried me down a number of steps and
placed me on a white table in a brightly
lighted room.
A sergeant of the Royal Army Med
zeal corps removed my bandages and
cut off my tunic. Then the doctor,
with his sleeves rolled up, took charge.
He winked at me and 1 winked back,
and then he asked, "How do you feel
smashed up a bit?"
1 answered: "Tm all right, but I'd
give a quid for q drink of Bass"
He nodded to the sergeant, who dis
appeared, and I'll be darned if he
didn't return with a glass of ale. I
quarter Of an inch, but got away with
every drop of that ale. 1t tasted just
like Blighty, and that is heaven to
Tommy.
The doctor said something to an or
derby, the only word I could catch was
"chlOrOfOrm," then they put some kind
of an arrangement over my nose and
mouth and it was me for dreamland.
When I opened my eyes I was lying
on a stretcher, in a low wooden
building. Everywhere looked I saw
rows of TOmmies on stretchers, some
dead to the world, and the rest with
Tags in their mouths.
The main topic of their conversation
was Blighty. Nearly all had grin on
their faces, except those who didn't
have enough face left to grin with. 1
grinned with my right eye, the other
was bandaged.
Stretcher-bearerS came in and be-
gan to carry the Tommies outside. You
could hear the chug of the engines in
the waiting ambulances.
/ was put into an ambulance with
three others and away we went for an
eighteen-mile ride.
/ was on q bottom stretcher. The
lad right across from me was smashed
up something horrible.
Right above me was a man from the
Royal Irish rifles, while across from
him was q ScOtchman.
We had gone about three miles when
I heard the death-rattle in the throat
of the man opposite. He had gone tC
rest across the Great Divide. I think
at the time envied him.
The man of the Royal Irish rifles
had had his left foot blown off, the
jolting of the ambulance over the
rough road had loosened up the band
ages on his foot, and had started il
bleeding again. This blood ran dowr
the side Of the stretcher and started
dripping. was lying on my back, toe
weak to move, and the dripping of this
blood got me in my unbandaged right
eye. 1 closed my eye and pretty soor
could not open the lid; the blood haC
CONCEALED and closed it, as if it were
glued down.
An English girl dressed in khaki was
driving the ambulance, while beside
her on the seat was a corporal Of the
r. A. M. c., They kept up a running
conversation about Blighty which al
most wrecked my nerves; pretty
soon from the Stretcher above me, the
Irishman became aware of the fact
that the bandage from his foot had be-
come loose; it must have panied hin
horribly, because he yelled in a louC
voice:
IF you don't stop this bloody death
wagon and fix this d bandage on