Bonners Ferry herald. [volume] (Bonners Ferry, Idaho) 1904-current, 1918-09-03
CHAPTER v.
Mud, Rats and Shells.

1 must have slept for two or three
hours, not the refreshing kind that re-
suits from clean sheets and soft pill
lows, but the sleep that comes from
cold wet and sheer exhaustion.
Suddenly, the earth seemed to shake
and a thunderclap burst in my ears. l
Opened my eyes-I was spIashed 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 ii with wall of tossed-up
learth. The man on my left lay still.
rubbed the mud from my face, and an
lawful sight met my gaze--his head
was smashed to a pulp, and his steel
helmet was full. of brains and blood.
IA 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-
lers came up the trench on the double
After few minutes of digging, three
lstill. muddy forms on stretchers were
carried down the communication
trench to the rear. Soon they would
be resting Somewhere in France" with
IN little wooden cross over their heads.
They had done their bit for king and
country, had died without firing shot.
but their services were appreciated,
nevertheless.
Later on, / found out their names.
They belonged to our draft.
/ was dazed and motionless. Sud-
denly a shovel was 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 snipers. One of the
Fritz's is daisy, and he'll get you if
you're not careful"
Lying on my belly on the bottom of
the trench, filed 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 / felt. AL
though the weather was cold, 1 was
lsoaked with sweat.
Occasionally a bullet would crack
overhead, and a machine gun would
kick up the mud on the bashed-in para
pet. At each crack 1 would duck and
shield my face with my arm. One of
the older men noticed this action of
mime, 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
at the time, and from then on, adopt
ed his motto, "If you're going to get it,
you'll get it,.
1t helped me wonderfully. I used it
so often afterwards that some of my
mates dubbed me, "If you're going to
get 1t, you'n get It,"
After an hours hard work, all my
nervousness left me. and was laugh
ing and joking with the rest.
AT one O'Clock, dinner came up in
tthe form of dixie of hot stew.
looked for my canteen. 1t had
ifallen off the fire step, and was half
hurried in the mud. The man on my
Aeft noticed this, and told the corporal,
dishing out the rations, to put my
share in his mess tin. Then he whis-
ipered to me, always take care of your
imess tin, mate"
! had learned another maxim of the
trenches.
That stew tasted fine. 1 was as
hungry as bear. We had seconds"
or another helping, because three Of
the men had "gone West" killed by
the explosion of the German trench
mortar, and we ate their share, but
stin was hungry, so / filed in with
bully beef and biscuits. Then drained
my water bottle. Later on learned
ianother maxim of the front line, go
Isparingly with your water" The bully
beef made me thirsty, and by tea time
I was dying fer a drink, but my pride
would not allow me to ask my mates
for water. was fast learning the
ethics of the trenches.
That night 1 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 it as part of the
nights routine.
Then something shot past my face.
My heart stopped beating, and / ducked
my head below the parapet. A soft