Mountain Home Republican. [volume] (Mountain Home, Idaho) 1915-1946, 1918-05-11
CHAPTER v.
Mud. Rats and Shells.

Mud, Rats and Shells.
must have slept for two or three
hours, not the refreshing kind that re-
suits from clean sheets and soft pill
lows, but the sleep that comes from
Sold, wet and sheer exhaustion.
Suddenly, the earth seemed to shake
and thunderclap burst In my ears.
opened my eyes-I was splashed all
over with sticky mud, and men were
picking themselves up from the bottom
of the trench. The parapet on my left
had toppled into the trench, completely
blocking 1t with a wall of tossed-up
earth. The man on my left lay still. l
rubbed the mud from my face, and an
awful sight met my gaze-his head
was smashed to pulp, and his steel
helmet was full of brains and blood.
A German minnie" (trench mortar)
had exploded In the next traverse. Men
were digging into the soft mass of mud
In frenzy of haste. Stretcher-bear-
ers came up the trench on the double.
After few minutes Of digging, three
Still, muddy forms on stretchers were
carried down the communication
trench to the rear. Soon they would
be resting somewhere in France" with
little wooden cross over their heads
They had done their bit for king and
country, had died without firing shot
but their services were appreciated
nevertheless.
Later on, found out their names.
They belonged to our draft.
I was dazed and motionless. Sud-
denly shovel was pushed into my
hands, and rough but kindly voice
said:
"Here, my lad, lend hand clearing
the trench, but keep your head down,
and look out for snipers. One of the
Fritzs is daisy, and he'll get you Ii
you're not careful"
Lying on my belly on the bottom Of
the trench, filled sandbags with the
sticky mud, they were dragged to my
rear by the other men, and the work of
rebuilding the parapet was on. The
harder worked, the better l felt. Al
though the weather was cold, was
soaked with sweat.
Occasionally q bullet would crack
overhead, and a machine gun would
kick up the mud on the bashed-in para
pet. At each crack | would GgcK and
shield my face with my aysa. One of
the Older men noticed this action of
mine, and whispered:
Don't duck at the crack of a bull
let, YAM; che danger has passed-you
never hear the one that wings you.
Always remember that If you are going
to get 1t, you'll get 1t. so never worry"
This made great impression on me
at the time, and from then on, | adopt
ed his motto, "If you're going to get It,
you'll get It,"
1t helped me wonderfully. I used IL
so often afterwards that some of my
mates dubbed me, "If you're going to
get it, you'll get it."
After an hours hard work, all my
nervousness left me, and / was laugh.
Ing and joking with the rest.
At one o'clock, dinner came up In
the form of dixie of hot stew.
/ looked for my canteen. 1t had
fallen off the fire step, and was half
buried in the mud, The man on my
left noticed this, and told the corporal,
dishing out the ratious, to put my
share in his mess tin. Then he whis-
pered to me, always take care of your
mess tin, mate"
| had learned another maxim Of the
trenches.
That stew tasted fine. was as
hungry as a bear. We had seconds"
or another helping, because three Of
the men had "gone West" killed by
the explosion Of the German trench
mortar, and we ate their share, but
still / was hungry, so / filled in with
bully beef and biscuits. Then I drained
my water bottle. Later on ] learned
another maxim of the front line, go
s9aringly with your water" The bully
Secf made me thirsty, and by tea time
! was dying for drink, but my pride
would not allow me to ask my mates
for water was fast learning the
ethics of the trenches.
That night was put on guard with
an older man. We stood on the fire
ytep with our hands over the top. peer
ny out into No Mans Land. 1t was
nervous work for me, but the other fell
low seemed to take 1t as part of the
nights routine,
Then ,mething shot past my face.
Ny heart stopped beating, and ducked
10Y head below the parapet A soft