The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1918-08-01
WHAT A SOLDIER WROTE
A Descriptive Letter That is
Very Interesting.
To the Editor of The Republican.

just thirty seven days before he was
killed in battle on the soil of France,
was mailed to me by a valued friend and
a business man of the city of New York
The letter is so animating in spirit and
graphic in description as not only to
take US with the writer in the zone of
conflict but compel US to see what he
saw, to hear what he heard and feel
VIII at he felt. If your patrons will give
it an attentive reading they will see how,
in times that try mems souls, soldier
of high resolve can face his country 8
foes, and will gather more than from
any introduction that can write or say.
RELIIM.
THE FRENCH VILLAGE OF THE FRONT"
What a marked change has come
over it in the last four years! A long
winding street was about all the bust
ness thoroughfare the village could
boast of in peaceful days. From all
outward appearances the dressing of
lumber was the chief industry, along
with agriculture. These people are by
nature and choice an agricultural one.
Great farms stretch out on all sides as
far as the eye can reach until they final
ly lose themselves mid the great, ghost
ly mountains on the easteln horizon.
And again you are str Ick speechless by
the change in the general order of
things. Gray concrete homes with iron
fences and court speak of respectability.
Off on the brow OF a hill lies what re-
mains of the home of a peace loving
farmer. War caught him uuawares.
His household effects ere wreckage
now from fire and German shells. The
apple orchard still remains, the trees in
full bloom, and YOU notice a swallow s
nest in crack in the masonry just
above the top or one of these trees,
and here is the little school where rosy
checked children received the rudiments
of education from pretty little school
"marm." TIE school house is kitchen
now where Chow" is cooked tor the
American soldier. Nothing is left of
the church but foUr shell-beaten walls,
walls that once echoed to the prayers of
some kind old priest who received
flowers from these same red checked
children on Sunday morning.
Inc Mares. office where all legal
questions were settled is now the post
of COMMAND for a high officer of lies
al mics Americana" Upon the rise of
a small hill back of the village lies a
or, up of willows that was once a meet
ing place for PAR of lovers on a warm
Sunday afternoon. Here the two plan
nd and dreamed of the future. What?
The boy went to the war and that is all
that | know. The grove now conceals
a battery of Is men guns, manned by
Yankees, stripped to the belt, sending
death pills to the Hun. Fine old homes
or hilIato fpr tho Snl1iors &c lc -
fantry working in perfect harmony
with the artillery. 1t is night now and
the distant boot of an owl adds to the
loneliness of the place. The dull walls
resound with the hollow foot beats of
the relief on its way to "stand to- IN
the bitches for the night. You drop be-
hind them as you have important work
for yourself that night, and you wish to
confer with their commander On the
way out you pass what remains of a
cemetery. 1t was so cared for in other
days but now mass of Wreckage as a
result of Hun Smelling. You grow sick
at the sight. War" it is said goes,
hand in hand with civilization" You
shudder. War does not even respect
the sacred dead-does civilization? And,
you pass on to report to your command
er who has important things tor you to
do during the night. This is a typical
picture for the environment of war
ridden French village. 1t has its pur-
pose though; 1t brings to the American
soldier the firm determination to stop
the spread of the fires of Prussianism
before they reach oyer the Atlantic
He consecrates his life that America
and its people shall not suffer as her
sister republic has. He grips the butt
" his pistol at the thought of it all. and
wet and cold. but keen for the posi-
hilltles of the night, he falls in line I'M
til he sees the dawn of a new dav
Frightening the sky in the east. His
all night vigil is at an end and he turns
his face toward his billet, where he will
have his bacon, bread and coffee, and a
sleep that knows nothing of the pity of
war.
| am now sergeant, second in COM
mand of what is known as the Battalion
Intelligence Detachment of some thirty
men. Our work consists in sniping and
other individual means of hsrassing the
enemy, and to keep the commander in
formed as to all things necessary to a
cooperative fighting. 1t is a great
work. highly interesting to say nothing
of exciting. | am very much pleased
with the men have and they back me
to the end.
My last trip to the front added a page
to my life's history in large type. In
quest of a German sniper. led patrol
into ''No Mans Land" near the enemys
lines. He fired at me three times. each
shot nearly reaching its mark. My
blood boiled and | was determined to
get him for his discourtesy. On the
way TO him | was caught in a double
Smelling of artillery and machine gun
fire with no protection, binding rain
and pitch black night. And through
it | led or better crawled my patrol
through mud, water and wires without
a man receiving so much as a scratch,
after having ducked shell and lead for
seven hours. 1t was some experience,
but will go through it again to get that
German sniper and put him away for
once and for ALL
Bully for the Third Liberty Loan
knew you good folks back home would
do that little thing in grand style. 1t
is in things like that which make your
boys appreciate just how serious Ameri-
ca has become in successful fighting.
1t stimulate the morale of the men, puts
food in our ever craving stomachs and
piles up mssives of steel for US to de-
liver with Uncle Sans compliments to