Northern Wisconsin advertiser. [volume] (Wabeno, Wis.) 1898-1925, 1919-01-03

s.
1t was Christmas eve, and cold: not
the kind of cold which sends the red
blood tingling through your veins and
makes you want to be "up and at
en-" but that miserable damp kind
tnat eats into the marrow of your
bones, attacking you from the rear and
sending cold shiyers up and down your
spinal column. 1t gives you feeling
OF dread and loneliness.
The three OF US, Curly" Happy"
and myself, were standing at the cor
ner of Yankee avenue and 'Yiddish
street" waiting for the word "Stand
TO-" upon which we were to mount our
machine gun on the parapet and go on
watch for two hours with our heads
sticking over the top.
Yankee avenue" was the name Of
the fire trench, while "Yiddish street"
was the communication trench leading
to the rear. We were occupying "Y"
sector Of the front line of our brigade.
The trench was muddy and In some
places thin crust of ice was begin
ming to form around the edges Of the
puddles.
We had wrapped our feet and legs
with empty sand bags, and looked like
snow shovelers on Fifth avenue. My
teeth were chattering with the cold.
Happy was slapping his hands on his
thighs, while Curly had unbuttonec
one of the buttons on his overcoat,
and with his left hand was desperately
trying to reach under his right armpit
no doubt a "cootie" had gone mar
keting for its Christmas dinner.
Then came the unwelcome "Stand
to-" and 1t was up on the firestep for
US, to get our gun mounted. This took
about five minutes.
Curly, while working away, was
muttering; 'Blime me, Christmas eve,
and ERE I am somewhere in France,
'alf starved with the cold"
Happy was humming keep the
Home Fires Burning" Right then, to
me, any kind of home fire would
have been very welcome.
It was black as pitch in No Mans
land. Curly stopped muttering to him
self and Happy's humming ceased.
There was serious work In front of us.
For two hours we had to try and pene-
trate that blackness with our straining
eyes to see that Fritz did not surprise
Us with some Christmas stunt of his.
Suddenly. Happy. who was standing
on the firestep next to me, gripped my
arm, and in a low, excited whisper
asked:
did you see that out in front, Yank.
. little to the right of that black patch
in the barbed wire?"
Turning my eyes in the direction In
dicated, with my heart pounding
against my ribs, I waited for some
thing to develop.
Sure enough, I could make out a
slight movement. Happy must have
seen 1t at the same time, because he
carefully eased his rifle over the top,
ready for instant USE My rifle was al
ready IN position. Curly was fumbling
with the flare pistol. Suddenly, ''plop!"
as he pulled the trigger, and a red
streak shot up into the air as the star
shell described an arc out in front; it
hit the ground and burst, throwing
out a white. ghostly light. A fright
ened s'meouw," and q cat, with speed
clutch open, darted from the wire in
front of us, jumped over our gun and
disappeared into the blackness of the
trench. Curly ducked his head, and
Happy let out a weak. squeaky laugh.
I was frozen stiff with fear. Pretty
soon the pump action Of my heart was
resumed. and once more looked out
into No Mans land.
For the remainder Of our two hours
on guard nothing happened. Then we
"turned over" to the second relief and,
half frozen, wendell our way through
the icy mud TO the entrance Of our
dugout.
From the depths of the earth came
the notes of a harmonica playing
ssPack Up Your Troubles in Your Old
Kit Bag. and Smile, Smile, Smile"
Stumbling down the muddy steps we
entered the dugout. About eight boys
of our section, sitting on their packs,
had formed q circle around wooden
box. In an old ammunition tin six
candles were burning. inwardly shud-
dered at this extravaganza. but sud-
denly remembered that it was Christ
mas eve. "Sailor Bill" was making
cocoa over the flames of ''Tommy's
cooker while 'Ikey" Honey was
toasting bread in front Of trench ire
bucket. the fumes from which nearly
choked us.
AS soon as we made our appearance
In the dugout the circle stood up, and,
MS is usual with the English, made
room for US to get around the fire
bucket to thaw out our stiffened joints.
In about twenty minutes or so the
cold of the trench was forgotten and
we Joined in the merriment. The mu-
stefan put his harmonica away, and,
bursting with Importance, Sailor Bill
addressed us:
Gentlemen. It 70 now time for this