Ladysmith news-budget. [volume] (Ladysmith, Rusk County, Wis.) 1907-1927, 1919-01-03
copyright, 1917. by The Mcclure Newspaper
Syndicate)

The English Lion was roaring, and
his growls could be heard all along the
western front. No doubt many a Ger
man general was stirring uneasily in
his large concrete shell-prOof dugout,
kilos behind the German front line, as
the sever-increasing laundering roar
reached his ears.
We had a closeup view of his ma
jesty, the king of beasts, and to us he
was a sOrry-loolzing specimen. Patches
of hide were worn away, while in his
tail were two big knots. If these knots
had have been labeled it would have
been easy to read "Neuve Chapelle"
and "Gallipoli." The memory and
pain of these two disasters no doubt
increased the intensity of his thunder.
The British bombardment of the
German lines was on, bOmbardment
which lasted over eight days and
nights. 1t was the forerunner of the
Big Push, or Battle Of the Somme."
Atwell and I were sitting in dug
out of the support trench. Atwell was
q great, big, lovable fellow, and was
my mate. We both had been detailed
to the divisional intelligence depart
ment, and We're engaged upon "spy
work."
Atwell, although Of a naturally
CHEEKY disposition, occasionally re-
lapsed into fits of dependency.
In the light from stump of can
die l was making out my previous
days report to turn into brigade
headquarters. Occasionally the en-
trance to the dugout would light up
with red flare as shell burst in the
near vicinity. Atwell was sitting on
his pack, with his back leaning against
the wet and muddy wall of the dugOut.
The rays from the candle lighted up
his face.
Finishing my report, | got out a
stag" lighted it, and with an uneasy
feeling listened to the roar of the hell
outside. A long-drawn sigh caused
me to look in Atwell's direction.
Never in my life have seen such
detected and woe-beg0ne countenance.
This, in a way, angered me, because
/, myself, right then, had feeling Of
impending disaster, a sort of unknown
dread, perhaps intermingled with
far-away longing for the fields and
flowers at home. l wanted to be
cheered, and Atwells face looked like
mOrgue.
Forcing a smile I slapped Atwell on
the knee and said:
"Come out O. your trance. We've
both got good chance for Blighty
with this bombardment on"
Atwell looked in my direction, and
in q tone of voice which from him I
had never heard before, answered:
"Yank, I've been out since II. I've
buried many mate and I've seen
many a lucky blOke on a stretcher
bound for Blighty, and never gave it
a thought, but right now / feel as if
my stay in the trenches will be short.
I've had something on my mind since
September, 1914, and it's been worry
ing me pink. I'm goin' to tell you the
story, and I'll give you my oath that
you're the first one that's ever heard
it from my lips; but I've got to have
your promise that you'll not judge me
too harshly. I've just got to get it
out o. my system"
Just then a signing moan could be
heard overhead. 1t was one Of our
''nine-point-two shells aimed in The
direction of Berlin. We both instinc-
lively turned our eyes toward the on
trance of the dugout and waited for
the burst. Nothing happened.
"Another bloomin' dud." CALCULATED
Atwell. ga few more hundred pounds
gone to Seed" and then again the
gloomy look spread over his counte-
nance. l was getting nervous and I'M
easy. Trying to hide my fear, said:
"For tn love o. Mike. Atwell, crack
a smile Give us that story OF yours.