Orleans County monitor. [volume] (Barton, Vt.) 1872-1953, 1918-05-15

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He Betrayed His Country.
own medicine. Our boys are going over
the top at dawn Of the morning to take
their trenches. Well give 'em taste
Of cold steel with their sausages and
beer. You just sit tight now until they
relieve you. I'll have to go now, lad,
| as It's nearly time for my relief, and
don't want them to see me a-talkin'
with you. So long, laddie, cheero."
With this, the sentry resumed the
pacing Of his post. In about ten min
utes' time he was relieved, and D
company man took his place.
Looking into the guardhouse, the
sentry noticed the covering attitude of
Lloyd, and, with q sheer, said to him:
Instead Of whimpering in that cor
ner you ought to be saying your pray
ers. It's bally cOnscripts like you
what's spoilin' our record. We've been
out here nigh onto eighteen months,
and you're the first man to desert his
post. The whole battalion is laughin'
and pokin' fun at ID company, bad
luck to you but you won't get another
chance to disgrace us. They'll put
your lights out in the mornin'.''
After listening to this TRADE, Lloyd.
in faltering voice, asked: "They are
not going to shoot me, are they? Why,
the other sentry said they'd pardon
me. For Gods sake-don't tell me I'm
to be shot ]" and his voice died away in
q sob.
'Of course, they're going to shoot
you. The other sentry was jest a-kid-
din you. Jest like old Smith. Always
a-tryin' to cheer some one. You amt
got no more chance O. bein' pardoned
than have of gettin' to be colonel of
my 'batt.'"
When the fact that all hope was
gone finally entered Lloyd's brain, q
calm seemed to settle over him, and
rising to his knees, with his arms
stretched out to heaven, he prayed, and
all of his soul entered into the prayer.
20, good and merciful God, give me
strength to die like a man! Deliver
me from this towards death. Give me
a chance to die like my mates in the
fighting line, to die fighting for my
country. ] ask this of thee"
A peace, hitherto unknown, ca1ne to
him, and he crouched and covered no
more, but calmly waited the dawn,
ready to go to his death. The shells
were bursting all around the guard
room, but he hardly noticed them.
While waiting there, the voice Of the
CT in,
him. He was singing the chorus of the
popular trench ditty:
I want to go home, I want to go home
don't want to go to the trenches no
Where the "whizzbangs' and "sausages''
roar galore.
Take me over the sea, where the Allemand
can't get at me.
Oh, my, don't want to die! I want to 20
home.
Lloyd listened to the words with a
strange interest, and wondered what
kind of home he would go to across
the Great Divide. It would be the only
home he had ever known.
Suddenly there came a great rushing
through the air, binding, a deafen-
ing report, and the sandbag walls Of
the guardroom toppled over, and then
-blackness.
When Lloyd recovered conscious
ness, he was lying on his right side,
facing what used to be the entrance of
the guardrOOm. Now, it was only a
tumble of rent and torn sandbags. His
head seemed bursting. He slowly rose
On his elbow, and there in the east the
dawn was breaking. But what was
that mangled shape lying over there
among the sandbags? Slowly dragging
himself to it, he saw the body of the
sentry. One look was enough to know
that he was dead. The soldiers head
was missing. The sentry had had his
wish gratified. He had "gone home"
He was safe at last from the "whizz-
bangs" and the Allemand.
Like flash it came to Lloyd that he
was free. Free to go "Over the top
with his company. Free to die like a
true Briton fighting for his king and
country. A great gladness and warmth
came over him. Carefully stepping
over the body of the sentry, he started
on mad race down the ruined street
of the village, amid the bursting shells,
minding them not, lodging through or
around hurrying platoons on their way
to also go "over the top" Coming to
q communication trench he could not
get through. It was blocked with laugh