The Devils Lake world and inter-ocean. (Devils Lake, N.D.) 1915-1920, 1918-07-24

His hand was over the sore spot in his
lungs. "Are you in painf"
"No. You know what those Bocheo
do, don't yGoiu?" That is just about as
much Of the personal in conversation
you will ever get out of any Of them.
! He continued with his narrative. ''Of
course you're not supposed to shoot
when you see a Red Cross on a mans
arm and he is bearing a stretcher.
Well, we saw a lot of them n day
and let up until all of a sudden 1t &c
Cured to n of us that those stretch
ers had awful queer shapes. One Of
u boys just took the tip of his bayo-
net and Tipped back the gray blanket
covering it. There was a whole noun
tain of cartridges. We uncovered an
other and what do you think showed
up? A machine gun!
"Those were regular soldiers, but
you ought to have see them take to
their heels in the scrap that followed.
We used to say at home that my little
sister would cry if you pointed your
finger at her. Well, let me tell you,
those Germans will fly If you point a
bayonet at them. It was a machine
gun that got me over. in the woods
under cover. We were going over the
top"
No Need Of Brandy There.
"Did they give you brandy before
you started?"
The boys eyes opened in surprise.
The Germans give their men ether be-
fore they send them out into the open.
mo. Americans don't seem to want
anything. You don't feel afraid when
the time comes. Americans haven't
sense enough to be afraid" grinned a
man who lay SO fiat and heavy and
lifeless on his cot that he had not at
tracted attention before.
One of his companions whispered to
me that this was Alva Ketchum Of
Tennessee, and that he was something
Of a hero.
"where are you wounded" I de-
manded.
"In the back" he answered. II got
the bayonet in the back. I was taken
prisoner and I went along with them
for a ways and then I figured it that
I'd rather be dead than a prisoner to
those people, so I started a scrap. I
didn't have anything but my hands,
but I knocked two Of them down. Then
the third stuck the bayonet into me-"
That was all he volunteered about him
self.
John Maier was an engineer from
Rochester, N. Y, who had fought out
in the open and had gone over the
top, he said, and it was very unusual
that one in his branch Of the service
did so. He was complaining that he
had never been in bed-for a day be-
fore, and he simply could not stand it.
His wound was in his arm.
"Oh, WE'LL" I said, "they'M let you be
up in a day or two, and they will send
you home presently. Your contrfbu-
ton to your country is made"
"Don't tell me q thing like that. At
this time home would be a nice place
for met"
That is the spirit Of all Of them.
All Eager to Get Back.
Presently I moved to a different
! quarter in the corridor and a boy from
South Dakota beckoned me. Confiden-
TALLY, he was worried about his leg.
He feared 1t would have to go, and If
It did he would never reach the front
again.
His neighbor wanted me to write q
letter for him. His name was Mike
Sullivan and he lived in Wyoming. He
wanted his father and mother told
that their letter to him had come,
but he had not been able to read 1t
because it was handed to him before
daylight just previous to his starting
for the attack, and just a little after
daylight he vas wounded and the let
ter got blotted with his blood.
But they were not to worry, for It
was nothing and he would be back al
work in a few days. Back at work
meant his Job in the trenches and
not tending cattle in Wyoming.
FUN IN A BASE HOSPITAL