The Oakley herald. [volume] (Oakley, Idaho) 1908-1961, 1919-04-04

man general was stirring uneasily In
his large concrete shell-proof dugout,
kilos behind the German front line, as
the ever-increasing laundering roar
reached his ears.
We had closeup view Of his ma
5esty, the king of beasts, and to us he
was a sorry-looking specimen. Patches
Of hide were worn away, while In his
tail were two big knots. If these knots
had have been labeled 1t 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."
AtweIl and were sitting in dug
out of the support trench. Atwell was
great. big. lovabe fellow, and was
my mate. We both had been detailed
to the divisional Intelligence depart
ment, and were engaged upon "spy
work."
Atwell, although OF a naturally
CHEEKY disposition. occasionally re-
lapsed into fits of dependency.
In the light from stump Of a can
die 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 l seen such n
detected and woe-begone countenance.
This, in a way, angered me. because
]. myself. right then, had n feeling of
impending disaster, sort Of unknown
dread, perhaps intermingled with a
far-away longing for the fields and
flowers at home. I wanted to be
cheered,-and Atwell's face looked like
a morgue.
Forcing smile l slapped Atwell on
the knee and said:
"Come out O your trance. We've
both got a good chance for Blighty
with this bombardment on"
Atwell looked In my direction, and
In tone of voice which from him
had never heard before, answered:
''Yank. I've been out since IA. I've
buried many mate and I've seen
many lucky bloke on a stretcher
bound for Blighty and never gave it
thought, but right now l feel as If
my stay in the trenches win be short.
I've had something on my mind since
September 1914, and It's been worry
Ing me pink. Tn goin' to tell you the
story, and I'll give you my oath that
you're the first one that's ever heard
1t 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 1t
out O. my system"
Just then a signing moan could be
heard overhead. Ii was one of our
''nine-point-two" shells aimed in the
direction of Berlin. We both instinc-
lively turned our eyes toward the en-
trance of the dugout and waited for
the burst. Nothing happened.
"Another bloomin' dud," calculated
Atwell "a few more hundred pounds
gone to seed" and then again the
gloomy look spread over his counte-
nance. i was getting nervous and I'M
easy. Trying to hide my fear, | said :
"For tn love O. Mike Atwen crack
a smile. Give us that story of yours,
or else I'll go brghousa You had bet
ter get 1t off or your chest, because
Tn thinking that Fritz will soon be
replying to our strafng, and if an
eight-inch shell ever hits this dugout
thcy'l need no wooden crosses for
us. because our names will appear I'M
Ser the caption Missing"
With another sigh escaping from
his lips, which sent q cold shiver up
und down my spaaal column, he lighted
flag end started in. This is what he
told me:
at was back In September, 1914
You know / came out with the first
hundred thousand, the time when al
the fighting was done in the open
The Germans were smashing every
thing before them in their. drive OF
Paris. Our regiment was one of thu
few opposed TO Won Kluck. 1t was {
ease Of hold them for few hours and
then retreat-always retreat. We
oidnt even have time to bury our
dead The grub was rotten. and We
we're ldsi a5Out tagged out, dead tired
Nish ia. prospect OF relief or rest in
froai OF Us.
ras Missionary for small patrols