The independent-reporter. [volume] (Skowhegan, Me.) 1909-1955, 1918-03-14
CHAPTER v.
Mud, Rats and Shells.


lows, but the sleep that comes from
cold. wet and sheer exhaustion.
Suddenly, the earth seemed to shake
and thunderclap burst in my ears.
opened my eyes-I was splnshed 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 wall of tossed-up
earth. The man on my left lay still. !
rubbed the mud from my face, and an
awful sight met my gaze-his head
was smashed to a 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
AhSy hoO oOhC thCil VII lOt MIX hIIu
country. had died without firing a 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 WINS 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 shippers. One OF the
Fritz's Is daisy. and he'll get you II
you're not careful"
Lying on my belly on the bottom of
the trench, I 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 I felt. Al
/ though the weat er was cold, was
soaked with sweat.
Occasionally bullet would crack
overhead and a machine gun would
| kick up the mud ON the bashed-in para
pet. At each crack I would duck and
shield my face with my arm. One of
the older men noticed this action OF
mine, and whispered:
Don't duck at the crack of a bull
let, Yank the danger has paSsed-you
never hear the one that wings you.
Always remember that If you are going
to get it, you'll get it, so never worry"
This made great impression on me
I at the time, and from then on, adopt
ed his motto "If you're going to get 1t,
you'll get it."
1t helped me wonderfully. | used II
so often afterwards that some of my
mates dubbed me, 'Tf you're going to
get it, you'll get It,"
After an hours hard work, all my
nervousness left me, and l was laugh,
Ing and joking with the rest.
At one o'clock. dinner came up in
the form of a dixie of hot stew.
! / looked for my canteen. It 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 rations, to put my
share In his mess tin. Then he wills.
pered to me, always take care of your
mess tin, mate"
l had learned another maxim of the
trenches.
That stew tasted fine. l was as
hungry as a bear. We had seconds, y
or another helping, because three of
the men had "gone West" killed by
| hA ri 10 -.
mortar, and we ate their share, but
still / was hungry, % filled In with
bully beef and biscuits. Then drained
my water bottle. Later on / learned
another maxim of the front line. Go
sparingly with your water" The bully
beef made me thirsty, and by tea time
l was dying for q 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
step with our hands over the top. peer
ing out into No Mans Land. 1t was
nervous work for me, but the other fell
low seemed to take IL as part of tho
nights routine.
Then something shot past my face.
My heart stopped beating, and ducked
my head below the parapet. A soft
chuckle from my mate brought me to
my senses, and / feebly asked, "For
heavens sake, what was thatT
He answered. "Only rat taking a
promenade along the sandbags."
felt very sheepish.
About every twenty minutes the SEN
try In the next traverse would fire 4
star shell from his flare pistol. The
! "plep" would give me start Of fright.
/ never got used to this noise during
my service in the trenches.
! / would watch the arc described by
the star shell, and then stare into No
Mans Land waiting for 1t to burst. In
ITS furid light the barbed wire and
stakes would be silhouetted against its
hight like a lattlced window. Then
darkness
Once, out In front of our wire,
heard a noise and saw dark forms
moving Ny rife was lying across the
sandbagged parapet. / reached for II,
and was taking aim to fire, when my
mate grasped my arm. and whispered.
Don't fire." He challenged In a low
voice. The reply came back instantly
from the dark forms: