Free trader-journal. (Ottawa, Ill.) 1916-1920, 1918-11-20
HOW A SOLDIER
FEELS IN FIGHT
Alabama Sergeant Gives Graphic
Description of the Hell
OF War.
Inferno Of Noise, Confusion and Death
-Earraae and Gas-"Gott" With
the Germans but Ameri-
cans With French.

Admission, Ala.-Here is the desCrlp-
ton Of big battle as It impressed t.
self upon The mind Of Sergt. Lawrence
Hopkins Of oxford:
They're OFF
1T sends a thrill through you rs
you hear their cry and rise up aud
find yourself in a crowd of men; pauS-
ing a moment TO light our pipes or
cigarettes and We are hurrylng for
ward with glistenIng steel in our hands
TO meet the foe,
If it We're not for these other men
moving along heavily laden to keep
pace with the barrage one might well
stand in amazement AT a wilderness
suddenly become crowded with sway
ing humanity, brayely attempting to
weather the furious storm.
'The big guns roll like heavy thun-
der the little field batteries answer
with a bark, shells scream, whistle,
howl, according TO their moods.
Death Is Everywhere.
1.-THE quick staccato coughing of
machine guns goes on increasingly all
around you and is swallowed up in
its echoes. There Is a spatter Of rifle
bullets as they whiz by you and you
wonder that you are untouched.
Barbed wire tears our clothes to
pieces: mud sticks them together
again. Birds fly at our feet and from
the sky winged airplanes swoop
down. Spitfre tanks plod on behind,
crashing and crushing; burning, boil
ing oil sends flames leaping to the
clouds; molten phosphorus is poured
into dugouts. There is gas TO blind
and choke you.
There are laughs and cries; the
laugh Of a comrade as he struggles
on, or the cry Of another as he drops
his rifle and puts his hand to his
heart-his last cry. There is the yell
Of the hunter, the wild-crylng despair
Of the hunted. The PUNK Of the NOR
tarS and the burst Of the bombs add
10 the tumult Of the storm.
"Stretcher bearers rush to and fro,
running Zlg.zag across the battlefield
with their messages. Then | drop into
shell hole, the cold sweat running
of my face and breathe. Take my
compass out, get direction adjusted
and when the barrage lifts | dive into
the tornado again-and SO on. Ger
mans are scarce; they are down below.
'Moppers up behind will deal with
them. Over broken trenches and torn
ground, slipping, falling, sprawlIng, |
20 for our objective. AS the curtain
Of fire and smoke passes over the vii
lagc we make the final squirt forward
and-dig like hi.
Germans Fear Americans.
"The noise Increases, the guns get
more angry, shells and showers of
mud and dirt are falling all around
you. The devil seems to be raklng
out his furnaces, the sky seems to
crash down on you, then my head
sWims, my arms fail to my sides, my
legs grow limp and l drop down as l
hastily don my gas mask. And when
| open my eyes and find myself ] am
On a stretcher and someone with a
smile ali over his bronzed face offers
me a cigarette
Yes, we ran the Huns for six days
and FIVE nights, and I did not want
to eat or sleep. | tell you it was
grand. and if l hadn't been gassed
feel like | could still be running
them. We started In on the oath day
of July, my birthday, and, mother,
dear, l took no prisoners,
"a German officer said to his men.
why do you run; is not Gott NIT
your And the German soldiers an.
swered: Yes, but the Americans are
NIT the French.
a